I spent the week after Darla left quite despondent; seeing her leave affected me more than I was anticipating. I felt thankful for Roxanne being at the cottage; though I didn't want to admit it, being alone during this time might've been a little much.

The work at the site was more than I could've hoped for, but I found myself counting the days when I could be back in Missouri with my little girl.

A discovery on the site, however, provided just the distraction that I was looking for.

We stumbled upon it by accident; it was a deeper chamber to one of the main buildings at the site, a tunnel that led down to a small storeroom where artifacts from an even older civilization had been stored by the people who were studying. This gave the work a new dimension, and the book that I'd been forming in my mind about the work here now had the makings of an exciting new chapter.

"I hope you're ready to have a busy last couple of weeks," I said to Roxanne as one of the other students brought up yet another haul of ancient tools.

"More than ready," Roxanne said.

I smiled at this; it was a real pleasure to have a girl like her who was so interested in the subject.

And I couldn't help but think about how she'd been with Darla; Roxanne had a natural way with her, and Dee really seemed to taking a liking to her. But I filed this information away for later, choosing instead to focus on the work at hand.

We began spending many late nights at the town library. I grew to love that old place, which had the look of what one would imagine in an old-world library, rather than the boring, functional one on campus that seemed to be nothing more than a big warehouse full of metal shelves. Roxanne and I settled into a routine of working at the site during the day, grabbing a quick meal in town, then going to the library for another few hours at work. Occasionally, we'd head to the local pub on the way back for a pint.

It was a nice routine. I'd realized that I'd been so busy with work that I'd forgotten what it was like to have a woman around.

"So," said Roxanne one night at the library, the steam from her coffee swirling around her face. "I had something to ask you."

My gaze hung on her face, and I paid special attention to her narrowed, sensual eyes, the way her hair lay draped on the sides of her face, the redness of her lips as she crinkled them into a conspiratorial smirk.

I snapped myself out of this; my attraction to Roxanne was growing by the day, and I hoped that the trip would be over before it became too difficult to ignore.

"Oh?" I said, looking up from my notes.

"I was thinking that I might be able to help you with this book you're putting together."

"You are helping," I said. "That's what all the work at the site is for."

"No," she said, tracing the rim of her coffee mug with the tip of her index finger. "I mean something a little more substantial. Like, um, helping you write it."

My eyes widened at this. That was quite the request for an undergrad.

"You want to help write it?"

"Sure. I mean, I know this material just as well as you do by this point. And I think I could add some good stuff. I'm not asking for my name on the cover, just a little ‘thank you' in the back or something, something I can put on a transcript."

It seemed fair. She had been quite the help this summer, and giving her an acknowledgment in my book along with my reference would really help her stand above the crowd when it came time for grad school.

So I agreed. It didn't hurt that I was mildly mesmerized by her beauty as she asked.

The next week or so passed in much the same way, the key difference being our time in the library becoming closer and closer…literally. I found us frequently sitting only inches away from one another, our eyes flicking up to one another's as we looked over a piece of data or an underlined passage in a book. I enjoyed being so close to her, especially when I could feel the slight warmth radiating from her body. I often found us touching one another, her hand landing on my own as she laughed at one of my stupid jokes, her mouth wide open in a toothy smile, her laugh cutting through the silence of the library.

"Feel up for a pint?" I asked one night, feeling about ready to close the books for the evening.

"I thought you'd never ask," she said, stretching her willowy limbs as she stood up, a small strip of her stomach showing as she stretched.

We gathered our things and headed out, arriving at the pub soon after. Our conversations from the library continued, us both talking in excited terms about our recent discoveries at the site. Soon, just like at the library, we found ourselves sitting close to one another, our arms nearly touching.

"It's a nice night," I said after taking a swig of my pale ale. "Why don't we go out onto the back patio?"

"Let's do it," she said.

We went out back, where we found ourselves alone on a small, wooden patio that looked out over the back stretch of grass and the buildings being us. The space was illuminated by the same soft, orange lighting as the rest of the bar, the only difference being the stringed lights that gave the space a somewhat festive air.

"I still can't get over how different you are outside of class," she said, curling up in her chair and taking a small sip of her beer.

"I could say the same thing," I said. "You're actually pretty charming when you're not trying to be a know-it-all."

She playfully slapped me on the arm.

"Besides," I said. "There's plenty that you don't know about me."

"Oh yeah?" she asked, scooting her body closer to mine, as though we were about to hatch a plot. "Some secret side of you that I still don't know about?"

"You never know," I said.

At that moment, my gaze flicked up to her eyes. I became lost in them for a moment, feeling as though I was falling into those beautiful, grass-green circles. There seemed to be something like a crackle of electricity between us, and I realized that all I wanted to do at that moment was to kiss her hard and deep.

And if I wanted to, well, there was no time like the present.

But I didn't. Instead, I rose and drank the last bit of my beer.

"I think it's time to get back," I said, hurriedly heading back inside, my mind swimming with what had nearly just happened.