She sat on the cheap government carpet, her spindly legs curled under her. They were the first thing he noticed about her: skinny, caramel colored legs that seemed to go on for miles before they disappeared under her frayed shorts. Her face was tilted up to the bookshelf, the look on the brown surface almost reverent as her long fingers gently brushed the spine of a book. Curls, every color ranging from dark gold to glinting brown, were pulled carelessly away from her face, tumbling towards her shoulders haphazardly. From what he could see, she had a decent chest, considering her slouch. She chewed on her lip.
Ordinarily, there would have been nothing remotely interesting about her: a random chick sitting on the dull carpet of a shoddy library in a little town in the middle of nowhere. But it was either her or the old Indian who’d been here longer than Connor had. The people of this town, it seemed, had a thing for sitting on the floor.
Connor scratched distractedly at his collar and frowned, his eyes glued to the empty dusty street. This town, if anything, had a lot of dust. He missed his dust free streets of London, the dull gray drizzle that would have ordinarily dampened his spirits. Here he wanted it. This place looked like it never got any rain. Everywhere looked burnt, even the people. Especially the people. He’d been the darkest one in his family since he began sailing. But here, in this library, he was pale. His skin, he realized in horror, practically glowed in the fluorescent light.
He set his jaw and angrily tugged on his tie. Screw sailing. A lot of good that had done him. Sailing was the whole reason he was in this god awful mess. If he never saw a boat again, it would be too soon.
A sound jarred him from his reverie. He looked up, meeting the gaze of the old Indian.
“Connor Pembroke?” there was a lilt to his speech, his wrinkly russet skin stretched into what seemed like a friendly smile, and a weathered hand hovered pleasantly in front of Connor’s face. There were certain things he noted about the Indian. One: there was a scar cutting through one gray eyebrown and extended well past his cheekbone. Two: He knew the girl on the floor.
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