Page 115 of Foreplay on Words

I wasn’t sure what to tell him. Honestly, despite the long hours and travel, I liked book tours. “I’m not going to force you. This is entirely up to you. Your contract is ironclad, so Sloane can’t make you do this if you don’t want to.”

“That’s not what I asked. Do you want to go on the tour?” he asked again. I tried to read his facial cues, but he wasn’t giving anything away. Part of me was expecting the panic to set in any moment like it had when we were submitting the manuscript, but he seemed to be clear-headed right now. Irritated but not panicked. Yet.

“I don’t mind them. I like interacting with readers and meeting interesting people. And it makes sense that they’d want to present the ‘are they or aren’t they’ marketing approach. Look at how many shows get huge followings when the lead characters build up the unresolved sexual tension.”

“But our sexual tension is resolved.” He sighed as he settled into my couch cushions. We were staying in Boston while we were in contract negations. My lawyer had already reviewed the contract and submitted a few revisions. Evan was the only thing we were waiting for. I wasn’t going to pressure him into going on tour with me. I’d offered to go on a regional tour by myself, but legal said marketing wanted both of us or neither.

“Do I have to speak?” He wasn’t saying no, but he also didn’t sound enthusiastic about it, either.

“Well, you, as a mute sub, could be kinda hot. Slap a collar on you and some leather pants. I’m sure Kristine would like to see me lead you around on a leash.” Expecting at least a smile from my joke, I cringed when his face remained solemn.

“Chase,” he sighed as he leaned forward, and his head fell heavily into his hands. “I don’t know if I can do this. Panic attacks and awkward staring aren’t sexy. They want something from me I don’t know I can deliver.”

“I’ll be there,” I pointed out. “Not sure if it’s helpful, but Adrian will be there. Usually, they send someone from PR. But you know all this—you used to do book tours back in the day, before...” Knowing he wouldn’t respond well to the mention of Simone, my voice trailed off.

Trying to pull him out of this self-loathing funk, I rubbed my hand up and down his back, slipping it under the hem of his shirt and scratching his bare skin. “I can take care of any requested readings, and I’ll be at the table next to you for signings. You won’t be alone. Just think of all the motivational blowjobs I can give you to ward off nerves. You can’t have a panic attack if you’re a walking—not talking—hard on.”

Evan completely ignored my ridiculous line of commentary, his fingers clenching in his hair.

“What cities do they want?”

“Bare minimum—Boston, New York, Chicago, Denver, Seattle, LA,” I replied. Isobel had been specific about those cities. We could add on if we wanted, but those were locked.

“Shit...”

“What?” I asked quietly, continuing to rub his back.

“My family will want to come if we go to Chicago.”

Mine would probably drive in from Minneapolis if we were there too. “And is that a bad thing? They only want to support you.”

“Or my sister wants more ammo to embarrass me publicly,” he groaned, his voice hoarse, but at least he was still talking. I could tell he was on the verge of totally losing it, but if I could keep him distracted, maybe he could work through the nerves. I was only partially joking about motivational blowjobs. I’d invest in knee pads if getting on my knees kept him coherent enough to salvage our careers.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.” My brothers could be shits when they wanted to, but they never tried to diminish my writing. Having an annoyingly supportive family was kind of amazing as long as none of them asked me about research or where I got my story ideas. There were certain things you never wanted to talk to your mother about—research methods for a scene involving being tied up and spanked were pretty close to the top of that list.

“You’ll see. It’s Kelly’s goal in life to humiliate me as many times as possible.”

“My brothers like to embarrass me too.”

“They’re probably amateurs compared to her,” he huffed.

“I didn’t date most of high school because they had the entire baseball team convinced that I was really their little brother,” I told him with a pointed look.

“They told them you were a guy?”

“Bad haircuts in middle school provided their photographic evidence,” I nodded. Those two assholes better not still have access to those photos.

“Oh my God,” he chuckled a little. “That’s mean.”

“Add in that everyone called me Chase, and I was assigned a locker in the girls’ locker room away from everyone else.” High school was one big awkward suck for me. “Pretty sure half of them thought I had a dick. The boys in my class used to aim for my crotch during dodgeball in PE.”

“I would have pegged you as having been popular in high school,” he confessed as he looked at me.

I laughed a little too loud at that comment. “Nope, not even a little. I was the dorky girl in the school newspaper with giant glasses who no one talked to. Add in my brother’s mission to keep boys from me, and I was a mess.”

“I probably still would have thought you were cute.”

“And I love that you think that, but let’s be honest. You would have been out of my league.”

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