Page 114 of One More Chapter

At this, he blushes. But I don’t get much time to linger on why.

“But! I have seventeen different alarms set.”

He pulls his phone from the pocket of his black joggers and shows me. Impressively, Idocount exactly seventeen. He puts his phone back, shoving both hands deep into his pockets.

“Do you have your luggage?”

“Already in the car,” he nods. “I’m driving myself so that when we get back, I can take you home with me.”

My chest aches with the thump of my heart against my ribcage.

I write so often about these overwhelming feelings, the ones that take over my characters’ bodies in different manners; fireworks and chokeholds and coming up from a near drowning to get your first breath of fresh air. Never in my life did I think I’d get to feel them all at once.

But all in the same, my body is none of those things. Aside from the tightness in my chest, which I fear might be my heart trying to wrestle its way to Ant’s, I am filled with immense peace. A calm laps through my body like low tide, telling me that this is exactly where I’m meant to be. I’m a little bit frightened, but overwhelmingly settled.

Headlights pierce through the otherwise darkness of our still slumbering neighborhood, and we both inhale at the same time. I look up at him and he looks up at me. I wonder if he’ll kiss me. I wonder if waiting until after would be sweeter.

Anthony grips my bicep and gently pulls me into him, banding his other arm around my back so tightly, I know I’ll feel him with me for the whole plane ride. The soft kiss he drops to the crown of my head sends a rush of warmth down my spine.

“See you on the other side?” he asks, pulling away, his grip on my arm not wavering.

“Yeah. See you on the other side.”

“Claire, what do you think about Pen’s hair?—”

“Shhhh, two more pages.” It’s a strange combination of whisper, demand, and sob—which is fitting. All of the emotions I packed into Finn and Delilah’s story are meant to have the reader crying through the epilogue. Tears streamed down my face while writing it.

Lucy and Juliet put the finishing touches on my hair—big, soft waves that contrast my everyday. It’s fitting, because I’m not going on that stage as Penelope Barker. PJ Layne deserves her own style.

“Youbitch,” Claire sobs. I hear the case to her Kindle snap shut before Claire steps over to the makeshift beautificationstation we’ve set up in my hotel suite. When she steps in front of me, she has matching tear tracks running down her face. “They… I… It’s the best book you’ve ever written, Pen. They’rebeautiful. I can’t… I need a mental health day to process!”

I know she’s my friend, but Claire was a PJ Layne supporter before she even knew her favorite author was me. My smile competes with the warm fuzzies in my chest for size.

“Thank you. I put my whole heart into them.”

She shakes her head and disappears to find tissues and gather herself.

“I’m halfway through, and my heart hurts for them,” Juliet concurs, spraying a shining mist over my hair before combing her fingers gently through it.

“You really did putyourwhole heart into them,” Lucy nods.

I tense. It isn’t an accusation, but there’s still a knife tip roughing up the edges that Ant and I have smoothed out recently, picking like a scab that I haven’t quite let heal all the way.

“Do you think he’ll notice?” Juliet whispers. “Better yet, is he even going to read it?”

I swallow the lump in my throat that appears at the thought.

“Yep. He finishedA Shot in the Suntoday.”

I have a stream of his thoughts in the form of text messages to prove it.

“That was my first of yours,” Lucy sighs. I know she’s only trying to make me feel better, but in my heart, I’m still torn. Especially when Claire comes out of the bathroom, makeup washed from her face, and starts singing Finn and Delilah’s praises.

“They just… Pen, I already knew your story going into this book, but the way you describe her hurt made me want to hug you all over again.”

I let her. And then, all of a sudden, we’re in a giant hug pile. Me and my three best friends, who have stood by me through all of the ups and downs of my Anthony Ellis rollercoaster.

A knock on the suite’s door ends our little love fest, but before Lucy goes to fetch it, I pull us back into a huddle.

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