Page 113 of One More Chapter

The apples of her cheeks shade the color of her hair, pairing with her sheepish smile. Because I can’t help myself, I ask, “What about you? When is your place going to be finished?”

“Umm… Good question?” she laughs nervously, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I think the actual repairs are finished. It’s just a matter of the cosmetics. New floors, new paint, new furniture, that sort of thing. I just don’t know if I want to spend my free time during the school year playing handyman. And, like you said, I guess this place isn’t going anywhere. Icouldstay here a little longer…”

“Then do it. If things get hard, a mortgage is one less thing you have to worry about. You can take the repairs of your place at your own pace, and focus on writing. And if things get tough, I can be the one you fall back on. I will be here to support you through the changes.”

“But what if I fail?”

It whispers out of her in the shape of a ghost.

I toss my dish towel onto the countertop and take both of her hands in mine, tugging her to me.

“What if youdon’t?”

She blinks up at me, doubt written in the deep caves of her eyes.

“A wise wiseass once told me that it’s how we get back up that determines if we’re meant for great things. You’ve gotten back up on your own two feet without someone there to hold your hand for too long. Let me be the stability you need at home so you can go out in the world and take a risk.”

Her expression is unreadable. She gives away nothing, save for the red coloring of her face, but even then, I can’t tell which brush is painting it.

Finally, she lifts her brow, levels me with one of her deadpan gazes, and says, “A wisewiseass?”

“That’swhat you got out of my whole heart-wrenching speech?!” I guffaw.

She smiles, a soft, curve of her lips that I want to trace with mine.

“Sorry. I deflect when people tell me nice things.”

Because I’ve been burned in the past.

I know now more than ever that I can’t start those fires anymore. I need to be the one that helps her put them out. She pulls from my grasp and finishes the dishes. I put myself on the line the same as she had when she invited me to New York. I wish there was a way to describe the way my soul collapses like a newborn star when she turns off the sink, turns to me, and says, “Sure. I’ll think about it.”

forty-four

penelope

“You all ready, boss?”

“I think I am.”

It’s a loaded statement, filled to the brim with gun powder and lead. The explosion could either make or break me.

Still, our words and our smiles are soft around the edges, which makes me think this could be the start of something wonderful.

It’s five in the morning, but it’s no surprise that Anthony is already awake. He doesn’t sleep much most nights, not unless we’re in the same bed. I was up so late last night tossing and turning that I didn’t want to wake him. Ididconsider seeking his refuge, but thought better of it. Because this? This is forme. Stepping out into the persona I’ve been building from the ground up, and letting myself flourish with what I’ve created.

I’m just lucky to have him along for the ride.

Ant insists on lofting my suitcase to the front door. Aaron is picking me up, and will drop Lucy, Juliet, Claire, and I off at Logan to catch our flight. The guys are all meeting us later on, but the girls insisted on being my cheer squad from the beginning. The imposter devils try to make me wonder what I did to be so lucky, but I have too many people in my corner whose cheering drowns them out.

We stand at the front door without saying much of anything. The sky is still asleep, but a steady buzz hums like lightning through my veins.

“What do you have on the agenda for today?” I ask him.

“Aside from being in attendance at rockstar PJ Layne’s first public event?” he says, trying but failing to mimic my signature single-brow lift. He can’t do it. Both of them go up and I giggle silently. “First, I’m going to finishA Shot in the Sun. I have like, two chapters left. I need to be prepared for my big author visit.”

My cheeks flame. Ant has been steadily making his way through my books. I think he stayed up the first night of break after I fell asleep to read one of them in one shot. He’s on four of seven right now, which has me nervous, despite the high praise he gives me after each and every one.

“Then, I’m finishing up a project at the house. Shouldn’t take more than a few hours, but I want it done before Christmas.”

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