Knowing his neglect was for the greater good, I returned to my book sorting, which allowed half of my brain to churn over the Alec problem and how I was going to get to GQ Poet Guy.
Getting ahold of Wilson in the evening was never easy, but I'd see him at work tomorrow. He'd offered Alec's number to me once; hopefully he'd be as obliging this time.
I finished my cataloging and shelving job around two in the morning.
All the books had homes on either the office or living room shelves, and all the books were indexed by genre and author in a way Star City might have lauded. The office now had room for the desk.
In the bedroom, Gabriel still typed in the dark, lit by the glow of his monitor. I kissed his cheek once more and fell asleep in his bed, exhausted.
I awoke hours later to someone kissing my cheek.
"Hey," I murmured drowsily, trying to pull Gabriel into bed with me.
"You're giving me funny ideas."
