"Help me, I'm hoping," Nate said, glancing at the nearest shelf of books before flicking his gaze back to William. He hadn't missed that instinctive flinch; William looked like he was using all his willpower to keep himself from fleeing. Nate pretended not to notice. "Is this a bad time? I can come back when you're not—" Nate waved a hand. "Shelving." Freaked out by other people.