Page 47 of A Billion Dollar Romance
“No, you’re right,” she sighed, biting her lip again. “Ugh. I just don’t know why this is sohard.” She was in her glasses, one of my tee shirts, and a pair of tiny shorts, her laptop perched on her knees. It looked uncomfortable.She’s younger than you are, old man,I thought grimly. Her back wouldn’t ache for writing in bed. She certainly looked the part of a college student, working on an assignment due tomorrow.
A college student, working side by side in bed with her professor.
I frowned at the manuscript. In it, a woman best described assassywas spilling coffee on the front of a stranger’s suit on the train. Was this how true love worked? Two people, meeting by happenstance, bonding over coffee and banter? Falling into bed together and having the best sex of their lives? I glanced at Edie, and she looked over at me.
“Is that it?” she asked.
I blinked.Was what it?
“The romance?”
It took a second before her question landed. “Oh. The manuscript, yes.”
“Well?” she asked, letting her head fall back against her pillow.Thepillow. My pillow, on my bed.
On her side.
“Well, what?”
“Is it any good?” she asked.
I nodded, slowly. “I guess so. It’s hard for me to judge. It’s unrealistic.”
It was her turn to blink. “Sure. It’s a romance novel.”
“It’s not my genre,” I shrugged.
“Well then,” she said, crooking her fingers. “I’m not making progress here. Pass it over.”
I raised my eyebrows. “After reading celebrity memoirs all day, you really want to read a half-finished romance novel?”
“If it’s not ready for me to read, then I understand,” she said, closing her laptop and arching her back in a stretch. Her breasts pushed against the thin cotton of the shirt, making my mouth water. “But if you want me to take a look at it, I could.”
“You would do that?”
She nodded. “I should, eventually, I guess. I mean, this whole thing,” she gestured between us, “is supposed to be marketing for the book.” She smirked. “Right?”
“Right,” I said, and I lifted her closed laptop from her knees, placing it carefully on my bedside table. “And you’re just really dedicated to realism.”
“Mmm,” she said, “it has to be believable, right? It has to look natural, in public…”
“When I touch you…” I said, taking her by the hips and rolling her on top of me. “When I kiss you…” I pulled her down to kiss her smile. “We have to be convincing.”
“In that case,” she mumbled, her forehead touching mine. “The convention is coming up. I think we’d better get some extra practice in.”
I rolled her over onto her back, lowering myself down on top of her. I would never, ever tire of this. Her body, and mine, together, her expression as I pulled away from the kiss.
Her.
CHAPTER24
Edie
I tappedmy pen against the manuscript, fidgety. I’d had too much coffee. Hadn’t gotten my dosage right, Margaret would say.
After the initial surprise of it all, they’d treated me the same as ever. I was thankful–and nervous. At some point, they’d find out I was lying, wouldn’t they?
Even if it didn’t quite feel like lying, not anymore. Even if I had to keep remindingmyselfthat this wasn’t real.
