Page 48 of Presley's Christmas Catch
“Calmly,” she says firmly, eyeing the crowd. Brock presses his lips together, his expression amused. “Mr. Thornridge is only signingVeil of the Queenand one additional book for time’s sake. You are welcome to chat with him for a few minutes, but I will be limiting the time so that everyone has an opportunity. Thank you so much for coming.”
Brock stands first and takes my hand in his, pulling me forward quickly. There’s murmuring in our wake, but no one’s going to challenge him. There’s one guy in here who’s almost as tall as him, maybe six-four, but he’s still at least half Brock’s size. We end up fifth in line to talk to Gideon.
My hand is shaking, and I don’t know if it’s because I’m nervous or because Brock is still holding my other one. It’s not romantic. His hand engulfs mine. It must feel like a child’s hand to him the way he’s wrapped it around mine—no fingers tangled together. That’s probably why he hasn’t noticed that itdoesn’t feel like we’re just friends right now.
I remind myself that for Brock, this is all about getting me my moment to talk to Gideon, to ask him about my aunt. It’s about friendship and taking advantage of who he is to get favors called in. This is all stuff he’d do for Lincoln or Layla.
It’s nothing special, and I tell myself that for the twenty minutes we wait for it to be our turn.
Gideon looks at Brock when we reach the front, a grin splittinghis face, but Brock nudges me forward gently with a hand on my back. Gideon gives Brock one more glance then turns his attention to me, still smiling.
I set down my new copy ofVeil of the Queenon the table. “Hi, my name is Presley Tatum. It’s really cool to meet you.” I want to slap my forehead for sounding like a fourteen-year-old at a One Direction concert, but I just keep my smile plastered on.
“Ah, Miss Tatum,” he says like he knows me. Does he frequent the forums? He’d see my name there often enough. My hopes that he’ll remember Aunt Shannon raise. “Are you ready for this?” he asks, handing the book back when he’s signed it.
I draw in a breath. Given that I just said I’d read it out loud with Brock, probably not. “I’ve been waiting a long time,” I say instead. A year ago, if I’d had this chance to meet Gideon Thornridge like this, conversation with him would have been easy, even the small talk. But the only thing I can think of is Aunt Shannon and that mysterious signature. I reach inside my bag and pull out the collector’s edition ofRebirth of Darkness.
His eyes light up as he takes it in his hands. “Yes, a true fan indeed to have this edition. Do you have all fifteen?”
“Of course.”
He moves to open it, and I hurry to speak. “It’s actually already signed,” I say in a rush. He arches a brow, and words tumble around in my head but none come out. I swallow. How will I talk about Aunt Shannon without falling apart? Then Brock’s hand moves lightly across my back, and he slips it around my waist, cupping it there in a comforting way. Everything inside me settles. Whatever this is between us, Brockismy person.
“My aunt left that for me when she … uh, passed away a year ago. But I don’t know how she got it signed. She never told me, and I didn’t know she’d done it until it was too late to ask. I was hoping you’d remember.”Prayinghe’d remember. Banking on the fact that he signs so few books that something would stick with him about this book.
He opens the book in a reverent way, looking down at the writing there. After a moment he smiles sadly. “She passed?” he asks, looking up at me, his expression full of compassion, not curiosity.
I nod, unable to say anything else. Brock squeezes my side, and I take a deep breath, letting his touch settle me again. Maybe tomorrow we’ll go back to dancing awkwardly around our relationship, but for now, this helps.
Gideon signals to Alexis, and she asks the people standing behind us in line to please take a few steps back. I lean in on instinct when he lowers his voice. “I also write romantic comedies, under a pen name,” he says. I was not expecting to hear that. Beside me, Brock sucks in a startled gasp. “They are … quite a bit more lucrative than TOK,” Gideon goes on. “TOK is my passion, but those books pay the bills.” I can’t help it; I let out a small breathy laugh. Aunt Shannon would have loved knowing that. “In one of my romcoms, there is a passing reference to Lyra and Kael. Your aunt found it, probably one of only a few people who would have even noticed it. That author persona is much more present online, and your aunt hunted me down and figured me out. In exchange for keeping my secret, I sent her this. That was about”—he looks at his watch—“just over a year ago.”
I clamp my lips together to keep a hiccupping breath from escaping. It would have been weeks, maybe even days, before her accident. She probably planned on telling me all about it.
Gideon looks down at the signature again and then closes the book as reverently as he opened it. His eyes are shining when he hands it back to me. “Her personality showed through those emails. I’m more sorry than I can say to learn that you lost her.” He gives a quiet chuckle. “She was very complimentary about my other books.”
I have to read them. If Aunt Shannon loved them—if she found that small piece of TOK in them—I want to love them too. “Mr. Thornridge?—”
“Gideon,” he corrects.
“May I know your pen name?”
He looks around, and I hide my amused reaction to how secretive he is about the TOK faithful finding out about his other books. He reaches for a sticky note from a pile of things beside him—sharpies, bookmarks, even a few paperclips—and scribbles something on it and then hands it to me.
I read it and then look up at him, eyes wide. “You? Seriously?” At least three of his books are movies, one in theaters and two others on streaming platforms. I’ve heard two more are in the works. Everyone on Booktok has read these books. Bella the Booktoker would die if she knew.
He grins.
I tuck the sticky note intoRebirth of Darknessand close it, putting it in my bag and then giving him a solemn nod.
“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Tatum.” He holds out his hand and I take it, shaking it. He holds on, patting my hand softly with his other before letting go.
“Thank you.” I step aside since Alexis is getting shifty. She obviously picked up on the importance of our conversation and didn’t interrupt, but we’ve gone over the few minutes of time she has allotted to each ticketholder.
Also, no wonder he has a shark for an agent. I patRebirth of Darknessagain, thinking about the name he gave me. Impressive.
CHAPTER 20
BROCK
