He kept sneaking glances at me as he thumbed his way through the thicket of file folders. He was in his mid- to late thirties and by no means conventionally handsome: pockmarks along his left cheek and jawline; a prominent nose that was angled to the right, possibly from a break that didn’t heal correctly; and eyes that were set a smidge too far apart. All the same, I could imagine him outside of this staid branch and his buttoned-up librarian’s uniform. Strip him of that tweed sports coat, the collared shirt and argyle tie. Put him in a tank top and short shorts and discover that his arms and
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