Page 41 of The Curveball

Her beliefs are skewed, and I don’t believe her when she says there isn’t a story. Wren doesn’t trust me yet. She doesn’tknowme, not really. I don’t need to argue the point. Words are only words. If this little slip of the tongue has placed us together for the time being, I intend to show Wren she’s wrong through actions.

“I’m going to prove you wrong, Birdie,” I say softly.

“You don’t need to do that. Why would you? We’re not together.”

“For now, we are.”

“No, we’re seeing where it goes, and I happened to be here because we had a fender bender, and I told my dad I was your girlfriend because—”

“It’s what you secretly want.” I grin when red colors her cheeks.

“No, because he ticked me off.”

“Details.”

“Yes, Griffin. Details are important. We need to be on the same page here.”

“We are,” I insist. “We’ll go out a few times, you’ll fall madly in love with me, and my mom andziawon’t think I’ll be alone for the rest of my life. As a bonus they’ll meet their favorite author.”

Wren scoffs. “They haven’t read my book.”

I take note she said nothing about the falling madly in love with me part. It’s staying on the to-do list.

“They have read your book,” I say. “My mom and all those annoying girl cousins.”

Wren pales and tries to bury her face behind her hands again. I curl one arm around her waist, enjoying the little gasp from her throat.

“Nope. Don’t hide,” I say. “They loved it, and they always pressure me to ask you when book two is coming out. Apparently, they find best friend Nathaniel as equally broody and mysterious as the hero, Tyler.”

“Theydo nottell you to ask me.”

“They do. Own it, Wren. You write sexy books, and you kill it. Own. It.”

Her nose wrinkles a little, like she’s fighting a smile. Maybe a sneeze, but after a second, she grins. “You’re right. I should own it.” Rolling her shoulders back, Wren’s voice takes on a strong tone. “You’ll need to tell your cousins it won’t be until Valentine’s Day next year.”

“They’ll love to hear it straight from you. Trust me, Marti is going to freak knowing she was talking to Marci Grey the whole time and didn’t even know it.”

“I’m going to say something, but I need you to know it isn’t a compliment.”

“Oh, I really think it’s going to be since you put a disclaimer on it.”

She snickers and jabs her finger against my chest. “I might like how you make me feel like I’m famous, and not a low-list author who had a few book advances but can barely pay her bills.”

“But isn’t it cool that you are paying them doing something you love? It’s only going to grow, Birdie.”

She tilts her head, a furrow to her brow. “How do you do it?”

“What?”

“See the good things. It’s like you pull the good out of everything. Like right now. I’m scraping by, but you find a way to remind me I’m doing it by a job I love. Most people would find a way to complain about the lack of funds.”

I flex my fingers, unsettled. Here the tables are turning. I have no doubt Wren is keeping things hidden under that beautiful surface of hers, but then again, so am I. After years of practice, I’m good at keeping answers vague. “Pretty simple. If I focus on the positive, the days go better.”

Okay, maybe I’m not as skilled at being vague as I thought. Wren squints at me like she can see the panic rising in my brain. The side too embarrassing to let anyone else really see.

Before she can think twice, I take a step back, grinning. “I smell bad.”

“I was going to fill you in since you kept hugging me.”

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