Page 203 of Hateful Games

They hit me with the pillows twice more. Grabbing the one next to me, I wind my arm back, making them shriek in surprise. Climbing to my knees, I push my hair back and hold the pillow as a weapon.

Bianca squints her eyes. “Does Nova know?”

Oh fuck.

“He does!” exclaims Iris, butthurt.

“I didn’t tell him, I swear,” I quickly explain. “He caught me writing late at night and found out.”

They throw the pillow aside and settle down, until we’re sitting in a circle. Bianca crosses her arms over her chest and demands with a hint of hurt, “How long have you been an author and why are we learning it now? Tell. Us. Everything.”

“As you’re both aware, I read romance, but what you’ve never known is that I enjoy the darker type of romance with lots of triggers and themes that aren’t for the faint of hearts. I happen to write it too. It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you both, but I was scared. I was already nervous when I hit publish on my first book, which was when I was nineteen, and it did okay. Just putting it out into the world was a big accomplishment for me. While I was proud of myself, I was also shit scared about whether or not I’ll succeed. Or what everyone will think about me writing irredeemable villains and sex for a living. I wish I didn’t give a fuck about others’ opinions, but I do. Because this has been my dream since I fell in love with books. There were times I badly wanted to confess, especially when my career took off, but my insecurities wouldn’t let me. I guess a part of me,” my voice cracks as I whisper, “felt ashamed too. I don’t anymore, but for the longest time I did.”

“So, what if you write about sex? People make porn—hell, most movies, even Bollywood movies, these days have nudity and sex. And romance is incomplete without intimacy. Why are we taught to see it as bad or equate it with shame? I hate it so much. Fuck society and its beliefs, Ro.”

“We couldn’t be prouder of you, Rosa,” Iris says confidently and in awe. “Besides, you write fiction. Provide people with an escape just like any other artist. If people are idiots to fault and tear you down for writing something that is a fantasy and can’t know the difference between reality and fiction, then it’s on them.”

Tears sting my eyes as I listen to them. I constantly tell myself the same when I’m overwhelmed but hearing it from the two people I love the most is the boost I desperately needed.

There’s also no denying the push I needed to confess to them came from Nova.

He unknowingly gave me the courage I was searching for.

“Thank you,” I tell my girls. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Doesn’t matter. You needed time and we understand.” Smiling mischievously, Bianca claps her hands. “I think we’ve gotten enough sappy, not something I had in mind for this trip. Now we have one more reason to celebrate. I just want to let loose now and have an unforgettable vacation.”

“I want memories that say… What happens in Vegas…”

Wearing matching devious grins, the three of us shout together, “Stays in Vegas.”

Chapter Fifty-two

Nova

Nathan does a double take when I open the front door in my disheveled state at seven in the evening. His comical gaze flying to the horny devil, aka Fire, in my arm and then to Maggie running circular laps around my legs.

“I’m sorry, it seems I’ve come to the wrong house,” he jibes. “My best friend Nova used to live here, know him?”

“Stop being a prick and get your ass inside.” I turn and walk down the hallway.

Nathan’s footsteps follow after me. “You’re babysitting your wife’s dogs?”

“Sort of.”

“Gonna elaborate?”

I rub at my temple, contemplating my decision. Either I tell him the truth or lie. Both make me look like a fool with guaranteed mocking for the rest of my life. I choose the former, knowing an interrogation will follow. “I turned away the sitter Rose found.”

“You’re willingly taking care of the dogs?” Disbelief is evident in his tone. He scoffs, “Out with the truth, asshole.”

Because I have an ulterior motive. “Is it hard to believe I like them?”

“Or you’re just trying to impress your wife?”

“I have other skills to impress her with.”

Another sardonic laugh. “Which you’re failing at to resort to turning into a nanny for her pets. A task she didn’t trust you with herself.”

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