Page 55 of From Us, Forever

Blood rushed to my cheeks. “Ass,” I chided, pushing him away.

His laughter followed my ears as I headed to the kitchen.

Something warmed inside me at the sight of the sparkling new coffee machine standing proudly on the counter. The small things he did without me asking got me the most.

He listened when no one else did, saw when others didn’t notice, and loved when there wasn’t anything to give. That was Jay. My man.

“I love you,” I called out, casting a look at him over my shoulder.

He sat on the breakfast chair while watching me with a smile that made butterflies revolve around my heart.

I placed a steaming mug in front of him and lowered onto the seat opposite him with my own cup.

“You’re too far,” he grumbled.

I rolled my eyes, grimacing as the coffee burned the roof of my impatient mouth.

A notification lit up my phone, and my brows furrowed as I thumbed it open to see I had an email waiting for me. Thinking probably it was some spam, I scanned over the content, and my heart felt ready to jump out of my chest.

“What is it?” Jay questioned, his previous playfulness fading into a serious tone.

My shocked eyes met his. “It’s from an agent. They want to meet with me.”

The lines around his lips softened. “That’s a good thing, right?”

I nodded frantically as my eyes swept over the email again. It was a good thing, but it was uncommon for an agent to reach out to someone on their own. Especially an author who was just starting out. “Yes, but she only works with famous authors, and I never queried with her. How the hell did she find me, and why would she want to represent a debut?”

He gave me a pointed look. “Don’t overthink. That’s your head talking.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, my blood still high from the shock. My hope rose with each moment as I went over her excited tone in the email. “She wants to meet this week. What do I do?”

“You go meet her,” he stated as if it were obvious.

“Should I? I mean, I want to, but I’m already nervous just thinking about it.”

“Evelyn,” he said softly, grasping my hand across the table. “You won’t know unless you try. You show up, and if it doesn’t work out, at least you tried, right? One lostopportunity opens the door to another. You just keep trying until you land on one that opens for you.”

“You’re right.” I nodded again, my mind spinning for a second before I shot to my feet. “I need to prepare.”

“You need to reply first, Evelyn, and set the meeting, remember?”

“Ah, yes.” I dropped as fast as I stood. “What do I say?”

“Here, I’ll help you.” He was by me in a second, leaning as he peered at my phone. “She is based in Seattle, so that’s good. You thank her for the response and tell her you’ll be able to make it anytime this week.”

I sighed while I typed. “My dumbass should’ve known that. Can’t believe I call myself an author when I can’t even write an email.”

“Writing an email takes years of expertise, sweetheart. For someone who failed in English, it is nearly impossible.”

I gave him a nasty side-eye. “That was one time.Onetime.” I waved my finger. “And blame it on Homer, not me. It was the most boring thing I’ve ever read.”

He raised a brow. “I disagree. I thought it was quite interesting that I even got an A.”

“Fine, the best writer of the year goes to you,” I gritted through my teeth as I reviewed the mail that I typed before I hit send.

“Of course, they gave me the title of the best songwriter of the decade last year,” he teased, dragging his lips along my cheek. “But I know a writer who’s even better than me.” His humor faded into a serious tone laced with love. “She pours all her emotions into her words that you can’t help but feel along with her—her imperfections, her rawness—yet that iswhat makes it perfect. It’s like a punch to the heart when you get your first hit and you can’t stop till you’re knocked cold. That’s how beautiful her writing is.”

My lungs lost their ability to breathe as I whispered, “I don’t know whether to cry or punch you or kiss you.”

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