Page 64 of Not in My Book

I needed to focus and write this kiss scene before I lost my mind. I couldn’t keep doing this—setting myself up for disappointment and letting my naivety get the best of me.

“How’re we doing?” he asked, setting a white mug on the coffee table in front of me—with, of course, a coaster underneath it. Steam was rising out of my mug, but Aiden had ice cold water in his glass.

“I made up a pretty good excuse for Max to go to Hunter’s room,” I informed him.

“What’s that?”

I shrugged. “She missed him.”

“What?”

“They’ve been spending a lot of time together, it’s natural. She was going to eat dinner by herself, then she realized she missed him, so she went to his room.”

“So, they’re going to kiss at dinner?”

“Noooo,” I dragged out. “They’re not going tomakeit to dinner. They’re gonna start talking and end up kissing.”

“But—”

“Shh, you’ll see.” I tilted the screen of the laptop toward him so he could read as I continued to write.

“You missed me?” Hunter asked, incredulous.

“Don’t act like you didn’t miss me, too.” I peered into his hotel room. “You were going to eat dinner alone, weren’t you?”

He sighed. “Yes.”

“Well, do you want to get dinner or not?”

“What if we ordered in?” I hesitated, but Hunter jumped back in. “You know everyone else here with us will be waiting for one of us to snap.”

I shrugged and shoved past him into the room, plopping onto his bed and settling in. “Your bed is way comfier than mine.”

His eyes darkened as I lay in his bed, but he quickly looked away. “I’ll get something off UberEats.”

Aiden eventually got into it and we started passing the laptop back and forth. We fell into a rhythm that was so natural, like we had been doing it for years. Sometimes he’d peer over my shoulder and suggest something, or I’d call out an idea as he typed. I knew exactly when he ran out of words, and he knew when I would take the characters too far too fast.

“Here we go,” I muttered. I turned to him and pouted out a bottom lip. “Aw, your kiss scene virginity.” I reached up to pinch his cheek, and he smacked my hand away.

“Just write.” He pushed the laptop closer to me.

We faced each other on the bed, picking fries out of each other’s boxes. Knee to knee, face to face.

“Can I ask you something?” I asked, popping a fry into my mouth.

He reached over, his hand brushing mine. “Shoot.”

“Why do you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you anymore.” He frowned.

“Well, whydidyou hate me?”

Aiden took the laptop.

He hesitated, searching for the right words. “Do you remember your first day here?”

“Vaguely. There was a tour and lots of paperwork.”

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