When we walk by the town’s library, I don’t miss Blondie’s lingering look.

“Wanna go inside?”

She nods her head eagerly and pulls my hand.  With a stumble and a huff, I enter into the shop.  Mr. (name) looks up from his reading.

“Eugene Fitzherbert,” he greets warmly.  He takes off his glasses and studies me for a second.  “It’s been a while, lad.”

I shrug.  “I’ve been staying busy.”  Running from guards, climbing up mysterious tower...becoming Corona’s most notorious thief takes up a lot of time.

“I see you brought a friend with you,” he gestures towards Blondie who is scanning the shelves with unabashed interest.

I nod as Blondie flashes a grin at the two of us.

He looks at me with a slight crease in his forehead.  “I was going to leave for the day to prepare for this evening’s celebration.

The disappointment on Rapunzel’s face is impossible to miss.  “Would you mind if we stayed here while you eat?  I’ve never seen so many books in one place before!”

Mr. (name) glances at me.  I give him my most sincere Eugene Fitzherbert look (which is nothing like the suave smolder of Flynn Rider, let me tell you.  It’s more like a cross between a lost puppy and the sad look of a child who hasn’t had dessert in a week.) and say, “You can trust me.”

It’s true too.  The kindly bookkeeper is one of the very few people who will never be burglarized by Flynn Rider.  After all, I owe my alter ego all to Mr. (name).  He is the man who introduced me to The Tales of Flynnigan Rider so many years ago.

For a second or two, it seems as if he is going to say no.  Finally, after looking at Blondie’s pleading look, he lets out a sigh.  “Aye, the two of ya can stay here.  But,” he says, pointing a slightly crooked finger at me, “no snooping through my desk drawers.”

Oops.  I guess that means he figured out what I was doing that last time I visited.  I hold my hands up in innocence.  “I promise.  Your desk is safe.”

I turn back to Blondie who is already holding a half dozen books.  I rush over to her and take several from her hands before she drops them on the ground.  Mr. (name) might overlook my questionable past time, but he can’t tolerate anything happening to his books.

She looks at me appreciatively before turning towards Mr. (name).  She holds her arm open and takes two steps, crushing him in a half-embrace.  “Thank you!” she enthuses.  

He returns her embrace with a grin.  I’m starting to wonder if anyone is impervious to Blondie’s charm.  Mr. (name) releases him and faces me.  “Quite a friend you have here, Eugene.”  He wisely exits before I have a chance to stammer out some sort of response.

I watch him walk down the road as I set the books on the ground.  Blondie takes a seat in the center of the room and grabs my wrist, pulling me next to her.  She starts to fan out the books around the two of us, studying each cover carefully.  “Where should I start?”

I look at the large assortment of book she has gathered.  There are books about mathematics, reptilian anatomy--that figures, I think, amused--, astronomy and physics.  Heavy reading for someone who has lived in a tower her whole life.  I shrug as I glance at the booking, trying to figure out which one will be the least boring.  My eyes land on the cover of the astronomy book.  How bad could a book about stars be?

“Let’s try that one,” I say.

She reaches over and picks it up before setting it in her lap.  “This is so exciting!”

I don’t say anything as she opens the book to the front page and starts reading out loud.  She’s not even past the first page and I’m already in danger of slipping into a boredom coma.  

Oh, this is bad.  Really bad.

I force myself to not start drooling as I sit there, uninterested and indifferent.  It was almost impossible, but somehow I manage not to drift off to sleep as Blondie continues to read.  I won’t bore you with the details (for the concern of my well-being) but let’s just say that astronomy not only has the misfortune of having everything tied to Greek mythology, but mathematics as well.  

Oh Galileo, I think as I refrain from rubbing my eyes, you must have been real smooth with the ladies.

Unlike me, Blondie seems to soak up everything she is reading and enjoy it.  Finally, when she finished the first chapter, I still her hands from turning to the next page by laying mine on top of them.  “About we try something else?  Something that doesn’t require intimate knowledge of mathematics.”  I punctuate my plea with a smolder for good measure.

Maybe my good looks are starting to charm her (but, more than likely, she just wants to read something as “fun” as calculating the circumference of the moon) because she agrees to my request.  Without hesitation, she picks up the book on reptile anatomy.  

I make a face.  I already know too much about a certain chameleon's tongue, thank you very much.  Fortunately, she seems content to skim through the pages before grabbing another book.  What was she doing?

I must look as confused as I feel because she looks up at me and gives me a small grin.  “I want to see them all!”   

I feel my stomach do a flip flop at the sight of her smile and I start to wonder if Gusto slipped something into my cupcake earlier.  I watch as she goes from book to book.  It doesn’t matter what topic she is reading, she is equally as excited about any topic.  

As she gets to the end of the pile (which has now been fanned out across the entire floor of the store), I get inspired by an idea.  “About some geography?”  For some reason, I want to be the one who shows her just how big the world is.  I am her guide after all.

Her eyes light up and she claps her hands together.  “OK!”

Honestly, I had no idea that it was possible to encapsulate that much excitement into one word.  

I move to stand and Blondie is close on my heals.  Apparently, she is really as excited as she sounds about the prospect of looking at these maps.  “If I remember Mr. (name)’s filing system correctly, they should be over here,” I say, nodding to the shelves in the far corner of the room.

Blondie practically skips across the room.  She approaches the shelves and starts looking at the titles.  Unfortunately for her, she’s just too short to reach the highest shelf where the books are.  I quickly make my way across the room before she tries to climb the shelves herself.

I reach up for the large book with the gold binding.  I remember glancing at it the last time I was here  (I may or may not have been using the detailed maps for nefarious purposes.) and I’m pretty sure Blondie would like the artistic aspect of the maps, especially seeing her creation earlier.

“What about the blue one up there?” she asks.  She pushes herself up on her tiptoes.

The sight of her with her eyebrows pressed down in concentration combined with seeing her tongue peeking from between her lips causes my stomach to flutter again.

Time to get a grip, Rider.

But I can’t.  Not when she looks like this.  Not when she’s so close to me.

So, I do the only thing I can think to do.  

I start to move away.

Fate, however, seems to have other plans.

Suddenly, Rapunzel starts to lose her balance and falls towards me.  One second, I am holding an old book, the next, I have an armful of Rapunzel.

I don’t know how it’s possible--maybe I should grab a book on physics--but time suddenly slows down and the world around me fades away.

There is nothing beyond the fact that Rapunzel is quite close to me.  My one arm is solidly wrapped around her tiny waist.  Her soft breath tickles the skin on my neck.  Our chests are pressed together tightly enough to where I’m pretty sure I can feel her heart beating.

I let the book fall to the ground and bring my other hand to her hip.  You know, to keep us from falling to the ground.  Really.  It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she feels so good --too good-- in my arms and I find myself unwilling to let her go.  

I lean my head forward and inhale.  She smells like sunshine, flowers and happiness.  And, for a blissful few seconds, I’m able to fully appreciate what it feels like to hold Rapunzel.

“Eugene.”

Have I mentioned how much I enjoy hearing my name--my real name--on her lips?

At the thought of her lips, my mind demands that I kiss her.  She’s so close.  So perfectly close.  All I have to do is released my hold of her hip and tilt her head up just slightly.  I pull my hand away from her and start to move it towards her cheek.  I notice her big, green eyes widen and wonder if she knows what I’m thinking about doing.

“Eugene.”  This time it’s a little more urgent.

Oh, don’t worry, Sweetheart, I won’t make you wait much longer.

I’m a breath away from framing her freckled face when she pulls back slightly.  “You dropped the book.”

And, like that, time comes rushing back at its normal pace.

I push away from her.  What am I doing?  More importantly, what was I thinking?  Sunshine and happiness? Honestly, Eugene Fitzherbert can’t be more of a sap if I tried.  

I stammer out some kind of apology as I bend down to retrieve the book.  When I sneak a glance at Rapunzel, I’m pleased to notice she seems a bit flustered herself.

Maybe she’s not immune to the Flynn Rider charm after all.

No, I immediately correct myself, she’s not immune to the softie otherwise known as Eugene.

As I straighten, Rapunzel reaches for my free hand and drags me to our original position.  She takes the book from my fingers as I lower myself to the ground.  Before she opens it, she turns to me and does something completely unexpected.

She kisses me on the cheek.

Her lips are soft and warm and gone before I have a chance to really enjoy the sensation.  I’d be willing to bet a half a dozen crowns that I have that same idiotic smile on my face that the owner of the Snuggly Duckling had on his face yesterday when Rapunzel gave him a peck on his cheek.

“What’s that for?”  I hope my voice doesn’t sound as breathless as I think it sounds.

She gives me a grateful smile.  “To thank you for keeping me from falling.”  She shrugs slightly and suddenly seems embarrassed.  The smile is gone and replaced with a grimace.  “Mother says that I’m clumsy.”

I think back to the previous twenty-four hours.  Rapunzel had managed to deftly escape the royal guard, perform quite the song and dance number and help me claw our way out of our watery grave.  That didn’t seem particularly clumsy to me.  “I don’t think you’re clumsy, Blondie,” I start without thinking, “But, if you do fall, I’ll always be there to catch you.”  

My eyes widen --and she does hers-- at my statement.  

I panic. And stutter.  “Um, you know, until tomorrow, when, er, I go back to, um, running from Max.  And the rest of the the royal guard.”

It’s impossible to miss the disappointment in her eyes, but she quickly pushes it away.  She smiles a little too brightly.  “So, you were going to show me some maps?”

I am relieved by her question.  Thinking about running from the guards is bad enough.  Thinking about running from the guards without Rapunzel is much, much worse.  “Um, yeah.”

I open the book and start showing Rapunzel the drawings inside the book.  Any awkwardness is eradicated by Rapunzel’s unbridled enthusiasm at the maps I show her.  When I turn the page, a map of the entire world is displayed.  

She lets out a gasp and grabs my forearm.  “The world is so big!”  She releases her hold of my arm and trails her finger along the page.  “Have you been to all of these places?”

I let out a laugh.  If she only knew how I felt about sea travel.  “No.  I pretty much stay in the Corona area.”  I point the kingdom’s position on the map.  “Though I have ventured to Trist a couple of times.”

She stares at the map for several seconds before proclaiming, “I want to see it all!”

Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.  She turns to the next page and gushes about the next map.  It goes in the same pattern for the rest of the book.  When she’s finished looking at the last page, she looks around the library, sheepish.  “I didn’t realize I had gotten so many books.”

“Don’t worry, Blondie,” I say with a wink, “I’ll help you put them away.”

It takes the better part of ten minutes, but we finally have the library looking like its former self.  She looks out the window and her eyes widen.  “Eugene, it’s almost evening!”

Which means it’s almost time for the lantern show.  I give her a smile as I hold the door open for her.  “Come on.  Let’s go find your frog.”