Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 19643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 79(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 79(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
"Trying to. I've got a manuscript making the rejection rounds." She makes a face. "Number seventeen arrived this morning, actually."
"Their loss." When she raises an eyebrow, I add, "I used to read your column in the school paper. The horror stories."
She looks genuinely shocked. "Shut the front door. You did?"
"Every issue. That one about the locker room that ate the swim team? Couldn't shower after practice for a week."
Her face lights up in a way that makes my chest ache. "I can't believe you remember that."
"It was good. Really good. Have you ever thought of publishing them as a compilation?"
"Hmm, no. I never thought of that."
"You should consider it. I mean, I'd buy the first one thousand copies. James would buy the next two thousand."
She doesn't say anything.
Silence stretches between us, taut and humming. I can feel it in my chest, the pull toward her, the restraint it takes not to give in. Her hand accidentally brushes mine, just barely, and that's all it takes to make the moment feel unbearable.
She doesn't look away. Neither do I.
James, bless him, starts talking about his renovations, giving me a moment to breathe.
When she turns to ask James a question, I study her profile—the slope of her nose, the curve of her jaw, the subtle dip above her upper lip. I want to touch that spot with my thumb, feel her breath against my skin.
Look at me being pathetic.
The conversation shifts to basketball somehow, and I'm surprised when Elise makes a comment about my three-pointer in the fourth quarter.
"You watched the game?" I ask.
"I was literally in the front row," she points out drily.
I can't help grinning. "Yeah, but you were watching moi."
"James made me," she says quickly, her face beet red.
"Right," James drawls. "I forced you to learn all those stats and player names."
She kicks him under the table, and I feel an unexpected stab of jealousy at their easy banter, the years of friendship they've shared while I've been on the outside, wanting her from a distance.
"You saved my ass in English, you know," I say, bringing the conversation back. "I would've failed without you."
"I'm sure you would've been fine."
"I wouldn't have. You made 1984 actually make sense."
She looks pleased but embarrassed. "It was just tutoring."
But it wasn't. That day changed everything for me. I walked in thinking I just needed help with an essay, and walked out unable to think about anyone else. When I discovered she wrote those stories I'd been reading, everything clicked into place. It wasn't just her looks. No, sir. Well, yes, that too, but... It was also her mind, her imagination, and her dry humor.
I wanted to ask her out after that session, but she started avoiding me. Always looking away when our eyes met in the hallway. Frowning slightly when she saw me coming. I figured she wasn't interested, so I kept my distance. I didn't want to be that guy who couldn't take a hint.
By the time prom rolled around, I had nearly worked up the courage to ask her anyway, consequences be damned. Then I overheard her telling someone she wasn't going. And Mia cornered me one day just to make the point very clear, straight to my face. That Elise'd rather stay home. But she'd be there if I were 'man' enough. So I didn't go either. Sat in my room all night, wondering what Elise was doing. Wondering if she was writing another story that would freak me out.
James never knew why I bailed on prom. Now, watching him watch us both with that smile I'm beginning to hate, I wonder if he's putting it together.
After dinner, outside the restaurant, James pulls out his phone with an exaggerated flourish.
"We need a photo. Something for the 'gram. A soft launch of your fake relationship."
Elise groans. "Is that necessary?"
"Absolutely. We need to plant the seed before the reunion. Nothing obvious. Just you two looking cozy. Trust me, Mia monitors Elias's socials."
I don't ask how he knows this, but it's probably true.
"Come on, stand over here." James directs us to a brick wall with good lighting. "Get closer."
I stand beside Elise, leaving a respectful few inches between us, and once again not knowing what to do with my hands. James just rolls his eyes. If he does that again, he'd likely see his brain.
"Closer. No, CLOSER. Jesus, it's like you've never taken a couple's pic before."
Elise chuckles nervously but shifts toward me. I slide my arm behind her, not quite touching her back but close enough that I can feel her warmth. Her shoulder presses against mine, and her hair brushes my cheek when she turns her head. We're close now. Awkward, but close.
Fucking hell.
The scent of her shampoo hits me, and my body reacts instantly. I angle my hips away, praying neither of them notices the effect she's having on me. My hand hovers at her waist, not quite making contact.