Page 27 of Paper Hearts & Plot Twists

Emily yawned, lifted her arms above her head, rolled her shoulders, and slid out of bed, clutching the coffee close to her chest. If she had to be up she might as well do something. She made her way to the table and sat cross-legged in the seat across from Miles. He continued writing for several minutes before he acknowledged her presence with a raised brow then went back to his document. Emily grinned. She loved to watch other people as they dwelt in their passion. Uncle Joel was like that about anything with engines, while Uncle Leo was like that about sports, claiming soccer was number one, and about sewing, though he told her to keep that to herself with a hearty wink.

Deciding not to waste the opportunity, Emily grabbed her bag from the nearby chair and pulled out her laptop. It wasn’t nearly as nice as Miles’s MacBook, but it typed well enough and was as reliable as she needed. She did all of her typing on Google docs, so even if the laptop died, at least her work would automatically be saved. Someday she’d love to get fancier software like Dabble or Scrivener, but she needed a better financial position first.

Emily pulled up her current document, jokingly titled Thoughts Among Pillows. She had seventy-four pages of poetry written, and was currently working on editing/revising her work. Occasionally inspiration would strike and she’d add another, but she really wanted to get this as polished as possible so she could send it to an agent. She couldn’t wait to use the list Leo and Joel had put together for her. She’d already edited five times, but Emily was a perfectionist when it came to her writing, and though she liked her own work, she often wondered if it was good enough to cut it among the thousands of other amazing writers.

“What are you working on?” Emily was startled and glanced up. She hadn’t realized Miles stopped his work and was staring over his screen at her and her computer. Emily flushed. The only two people who even knew of her poetry dreams were her uncles, but she should’ve expected this would be something Miles would ask about.

“I’m working on a poetry collection,” she admitted. She lightly tapped her fingers on the keyboard; they rattled under the touch, soothing her in a way, though her touch wasn’t hard enough to type.

“You write?” he asked, his brows rose almost to his hairline.

“Don’t act so surprised,” Emily teased, rolling her eyes. “I dabble in some poetry when I have a moment, though nothing exceptional.”

“I want to read it,” Miles said, already standing and coming around to Emily’s side of the table. Emily grabbed her computer screen and tilted it toward the side, away from Miles’s seeking face.

“You can’t just come over and try to read someone’s poetry,” she said, aghast.

“Why not? I’m a writer, you’re a writer. We both appreciate the craft,” Miles said. “I bet it’s amazing, and I’d love to see it. You don’t have to hide your screen like a guilty middle school kid.”

Emily looked down toward the table and shrugged. “I’m not acting like a guilty middle school kid! It’s just . . . you’re going to think it’s dumb,” she said.

“I won’t think it’s dumb. I doubt you could produce anything considered dumb, not after knowing you for only one day.”

“You give me too much credit,” Emily said, though she realized his reassurance was working. Already her shoulders were relaxing and she was looking up again, looking into his eyes to gauge his sincerity.

“I give you just enough credit,” Miles rebutted. “Now are you going to let me read your poetry?”

“Ugh fine,” Emily conceded. “But I’m not going to be in the room while that happens.”

Miles chuckled. He held out his hands for the laptop, wriggling his fingers for her to hand it over.

“Here you go,” Emily said, pushing it toward him. She stood from the chair and went over to her bag, grabbing a change of clothes. “I’m going to take a scalding hot shower and then go to a morning panel while you pour over my embarrassing writing.”

“So much drama,” Miles mused teasingly. He sat down in the recently vacated seat and pulled the laptop closer, eyes stuck to the screen. Emily flushed and hurried away, wanting to hide from any judgment she was sure would be forthcoming. Miles was so entranced by the words on the screen that he barely noticed as Emily came out and quickly made her escape out the door of their room into the greater hotel.

Chapter 21

Miles spent an hour scouring over Emily’s poetry and with every word he read, he fell a little more in love with the woman who could craft poetry that captivated him so completely. He was sure that a dopey smile covered his face, but he couldn’t help it, enchanted by the work that he was reading. Every few minutes he glanced at the door, expecting Emily to walk through.

Miles frowned and decided to get up and get some work done. If he kept waiting around, he wouldn’t have enough time to get through his entire list. As he started to get items together he realized how much that extra hour had set him back.

“I’ve got this,” he said to himself as he got into the work. Miles was lost in the rhythm of preparing attendee items for the next conference event. He started unpacking boxes and worked to put together packages that would go to fans who visited his table. Thankfully the books were signed from his time with Ben before the conference, but they didn’t have the time to put together the completed packages. Miles was lost in the repetitive work, though he occasionally glanced at the clock and furrowed his brow in concern as time dwindled. At this rate he wasn’t going to finish by the required deadline. If Mason had been in his place it would’ve already been done.

Miles continued his packing, barely noticing when the door opened to allow Emily entrance into their shared space. He looked up and nodded before going back to his work. His face was set in a stressed frown. Each of those took much longer than he’d originally anticipated.

“What are you working on?” Miles looked up, and Emily was standing in front of him after setting her bag by the door.

“I have a signing later today that I haven’t finished preparing for,” Miles admitted. “I’m supposed to have these packets together for them really soon and delivered to the signing room.”

“Would you like some help?” Emily asked.

“I’d love some help if you’re willing,” he admitted. “I don’t think I’ll finish if I try to do it on my own.”

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t willing,” Emily responded. She stepped up next to Miles and watched as he put a couple of the packets together then started grabbing different components and copying his process. The two worked side by side. Emily flushed as her hand pressed to his when they each reached for the same item, a common occurrence during the process. Miles didn’t show that he noticed, but he did have a permanent smile on his face as they continued working.

“Thank you for the help,” Miles said as the work came to an end. “I was starting to think I wouldn’t be able to finish this.”

Emily shrugged and paused her work long enough to smile up at Miles before turning her focus back to the packets. She worked quietly for several minutes before asking in a quiet voice, “What did you think of my poetry?”

---