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Donation
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Chapter 19: Donation (London's POV)
Surprisingly, I had a lot of fun with Ronan yesterday. While we shopped and looked around, we talked a lot about the past. It felt nice, familiar, and safe. On the other hand, it only made me realize how much I missed him and that was just making things worse. I don't want to rush into anything, especially with him. We already messed this up once. I won't forgive him just yet and when and if I do, I won't just take him back. No matter how much I want him in every sense of the word, I just can't let it all happen so quickly.
I had just opened the store and was waiting for Dylan to show up. Today is supposed to be a long day. Once in a long time, we filter out the store. We look through every single shelf and take out the books that have been here forever and are just lying around, abandoned. The books with only one or two copies that nobody even talks about anymore. We have to take them out to make space for the new books, and usually, we donate all these old books. I was sitting in my chair when the store's telephone rang.
I answered, "Hello?"
"London, it's Dylan," he said sleepily.
"What's up? Are you taking the day off?"
"Um..." He cleared his throat. "I sort of went out with friends and got hammered last night."
I rolled my eyes. On the busiest day. "So, you're extremely hungover?"
"Yes."
"So you're not coming."
"Yes," he grunted, shifting in his bed.
"So, you're losing a day's worth of salary."
"Yes. Wait, what?"
"Yup."
He sighed in defeat. "Fine. Yes."
"All right. Coming in tomorrow?"
"Probably, yeah."
"Okie-doke. See you then, go back to sleep." I hung up, leaning back in the chair. There is no way in hell I can do this on my own and it can't be delayed either, the charity is waiting, they need these books by today.
Most of the books we give, Runville's charity here gives away to some open schools and old age homes. There's one main charity here which runs multiple services for free. Schooling, old age homes, a few hospitals. It's not really in central Runville, where we live, more towards the outskirts, smaller districts than ours. To do this, I need someone who knows books and how to organize them and besides Dylan, the only person in this town that can do that with me is Ronan. I pulled out my phone, finding his number and dialing it. It rang three times before he answered.
"Hello?" he asked.
"Hey, it's London."
"I know, I have your number, darling" he chuckled, "what's up?"
I blinked in surprise. "D-darling?"
"Sorry, it slipped out. How come you called?"
"Right, um, I need your help, actually. Can I steal you for the day?"
"You can steal me any day, all day."
"Jesus," I laughed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Dylan isn't working and I really need help at the store today, we're clearing out some books. Think you can come?"
"Of course. I'll be there in say... fifteen?"
"Perfect. Thank you so much."
"Anytime."
I hung up, staring at my screen with brows furrowed but a smile on my lips. He's... chirpy today. A few customers came in and left, our lovely three old ladies came and settled at their table, bringing their breakfast in lunch boxes with them and sharing it with each other. It's like they're still in middle school even in their seventies. The door opened and I looked over as Ronan walked in.
Oh... my... God. He even looks chirpy, he looks... oh shit. He looks good, extra good today. He's wearing black joggers with a fitted full-sleeve black v-neck. It hugs every inch of him, you can make out every muscle in his body. From the way the sleeves hug his biceps, going just a little loose around his wrists to the way the black fabric stretches over his back and shoulders. He looks different.
I blinked about a thousand times in the time he walked into the store and over to me. "Well, hello there," I breathed out.
He raised his brows at me in confusion. "Hi?"
I cleared my throat, shaking my head dismissively. "Nothing. You know what, let's uh... let's just sit for a while, let me greet a few customers, and then I'll tell you what we need to do. Is that fine?"
He nodded, standing to the side of my counter.
After the store had picked up its daily buzz, I turned to Ronan, grabbing a notepad and pencil. "It's going to take a long time. We're going to go through each book on each shelf in each aisle and find the books that aren't bought any more. Old books that are still in good condition. Then we'll sort through them by genre and targeted age group, pack them up, and send them out to the Runville Head Charity."
He stared at me, blinking. "All in one day?"
"Yes."
He nodded slowly and then took the notepad and paper from me. "I'll write the books down, you can do the rest."
I rolled my eyes, "Haha. You'll have to grab the books I can't reach, stack the books when I give them to you and make sure I don't fall."
He sent me a lazy smile. "Okay. Duly noted."
We started at the first shelf and worked our way up. I grabbed the stool and went as far as I could before climbing back down and switching positions with him.
"Gone With The Wind?" he asked, looking down at me. "Nobody reads this anymore?"
"I've sold one copy in the four years you were gone. Because frankly, my dear, nobody gives a damn," I scoffed, quoting the movie.
He laughed, handing it down to me once I scribbled the name onto the list. This went on for the whole day, both of us only pausing for a lunch break. Even then, we didn't leave the store, only ordered some delivery food and ate here.
We sat at the last table while customers still roamed around, some of them glancing at us. The golden trio kept talking about us too, it was obvious with the way they said something, then looked at us, then smiled at each other and whispered while nodding excitedly.
I watched them before chuckling softly, shaking my head, and poking at my food.
"Why are you laughing?" he asked.
"Huh?" I turned to him, pointing at the women with my fork. "They keep—"
He leaned forward, using his thumb to wipe the corner of my mouth casually.
I stared at him, blinking, wide-eyed.
"They keep...?" he trailed off questioningly.
"Talking about us," I mumbled. He nodded.
"I can tell," he smirked, going back to his food.
I looked at my food, pushing the empty container away after closing it back up once we finished. "Ronan," I cleared my throat.
"Hmm?"
"We have to talk at some point."
"About what happens next?" he asked, taking the empty containers for me, ready to throw them away.
"About all of it. Past, present, future."
He nodded in understanding. "I was thinking about that."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. We should talk when we camp at the beach. What do you think? How does Friday sound?"
"Friday sounds good. I can close up early since it'll be the weekend."
His eyes traveled across my face, lingering on my lips for three beats too long. "Great." I hummed in response, both of us packing up and getting back to work. "So, you're ready to talk about it now?" he asked.
"I figured we shouldn't waste time. We had four years to get ready. And we have four years' worth of stories to tell. I want to know you in the four years we missed," I explained as we walked to the aisle we stopped at.
"London, despite the four years we missed," he paused to grab the stool and push it over for me to stand on. I grabbed his arm, standing on the stool and starting where we left off. He continued, "You know me better than any other person does in this whole world."
I stood there, staring down at him.
He sat down on the floor, kneeling and ready to write the names of the books as I handed him the copies. I started handing him copies as we talked. "Can I ask you something? Something personal?" he questioned.
"I can't promise an answer. What's it about?" I asked, going on my toes to reach the next shelf.
"It's about Mr. Ryan."
My fingers froze on the spine of the book but I forced myself to grab it and pull it down. "Why are you asking about my dad?"
"Mrs. Nora..."
I closed my eyes. She knew.
"Yesterday when I was here, she told me not to leave you again."
I frowned in confusion, handing him the next book. "Why did she say that?"
"She thought if I left again, you might not be able to handle it. When I asked her why she thought that, she told me your dad isn't doing too well."
I clenched my jaw.
"What did she mean by that?" he asked gently.
"Nothing," I mumbled, going on my toes again.
I heard him sigh and then stand up, dropping the books and notepad on the carpeted floor. "London, I'm only asking because I'm worried. Is he okay?"
"He's fine," I said quickly, grunting as I struggled to reach the book.
"London," he called out softly. "You can tell me."
"Why? It doesn't matter if you don't stay in Runville. I'll tell you when you know if you're staying or not," I replied.
"Is that really a solution?"
I huffed, turning to look at him, gasping when I felt my foot slide off the stool as the stool tilted to one side from my weight. I stuck my arms out to brace myself and caught his shoulders but he grabbed my waist and caught me first, falling back in surprise.
He fell straight onto his back but managed to keep his head up so it wouldn't hit the floor while I fell right on top of him. He grunted softly before he sighed, staring at me while his arms remained around my waist where he caught me.
I moved to get off of him but stopped when he tightened his hold on me. "You should let me go," I said, squirming.
"You should stop moving. I still have an open wound."
I stopped immediately, not wanting to hurt him.
"You should tell me, London. You should tell someone. I know you, I know you bottle things up."
"I never used to bottle them up from you," I replied.
"So don't do that now either. Just tell me. I'll do what I can to help, I promise."
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Chapter 19
I just put up the picture of the kind of shirt I was talking about for Ronan, in case y'all didn't get it, obviously without the gun holder strapped around the guy in the pic. I'm sure you got it tho but that picture is hot to me. just me or anyone else?
next chapter: time