Page 33 of Books and Hookups

“No. I mean, can you give me a couple of hours before you bring the rest of the stuff? I’m working.”

“Working?” Leo scoffed. “You’re on social media.” He waved at my second screen, which had Mercy Echegini’s Instagram pulled up. My conscience twinged. My father didn’t think I did proper work either.

“Lucie’s a writer, Leo,” Danny said through gritted teeth. “She’s doing research.” He grabbed Leo’s arm. “We’ll put the rest of the stuff in my apartment. Let me know when to come back, okay? My shift doesn’t start until six.”

“Thanks.” My gaze drifted back to my screen, and it jogged my cloudy memory about what I’d written earlier. If I could get these two out of my apartment, I was certain I’d be able to recapture it. Without looking, I stepped toward the door and bumped into something hard.

Danny’s chest.

His black T-shirt was a little damp, and it smelled…fantastic. I took a deep inhale. He smelled like soap. Faintly floral detergent, plus that cheap green woodsy drugstore soap. And the slight musk of his sweat. I wanted to bury my face in his chest and bring the scent deep into my lungs. Instead, I looked into his eyes, which glittered with an expression I couldn’t identify. Didn’t want to identify. I stepped back.

“Off you go. Thanks for…” I waved at the crib, which wouldn’t be useful as anything but a laundry hamper for months. “Thanks for all this.”

Danny’s feet stayed planted, crowding me just like that crib. “Sure. Just text when I can bring up the rest of it.”

“Okay. You guys can let yourselves out.” Because if I followed him to the door, I might not let him leave. I sank into my chair and listened to his sneakers squeak across the hardwoods.

“Bye, Lucie,” he said from the door.

I set one hand on the keyboard and raised the other in a dismissive wave. “Bye.”

I stared at the screen, but no words came to me.

The zone? I couldn’t find it again with a map and a bloodhound.

The crib seemed to take up more space as the hours passed. Although it was silent and empty now, its presence reminded me that sooner than I was ready, there’d be another human in my apartment who’d steal my attention more effectively than Danny and his brother had. Every few minutes, my eyes would stray from my screen to the crib. Once, I even thought I heard a baby cry, but it was only a cat down in the alley.

I had plenty of time to prepare for the baby later. What I didn’t have time to do was fuck around with my book. My manuscript had to be done by the time the baby came, or I might never finish. I’d end up like my mother, a prisoner to other people’s needs, never having time for my own goals. I ripped my gaze from the crib back to my screen.More words,I urged myself.

I’d finally started to write again when another knock came at my door.

“Shit, Danny,” I muttered. “This baby’s going to have more changes of clothes than Beyoncé at a concert.”

I made sure to click Save before I hauled myself out of my chair. My toe snagged on something hard, and pain shot up my leg. “Ow!”Goddamn crib.

I kicked it with the side of my other foot for good measure, and a pang shot across my instep. I howled again before tossing out a series of curse words.

I hobbled to the door and wrenched it open. “Damn it, Danny, I don’t need?—”

Savannah stood in the hall, both eyebrows raised. “What don’t you need from Danny?”

“Nothing,” I grumbled, stepping aside to let her in.

“I tried to call first,” she said, “but…”

“I keep my phone off when I’m working,” I said.

“Bad time?”

“No.” I sighed. “I wasn’t getting much writing done anyway, with the interruptions.” I gestured at the crib.

“You bought a crib?” She stepped closer to examine it.

“No, Danny and his brother brought it. They have a ton more stuff to bring me, apparently.”

Savannah peered at the crib. “How old is this thing?”

“I don’t know.”

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