Page 46 of Unearthed Dreams
I’m still in yesterday’s dress…
The innocence in her words contrasted sharply with what they implied. That’s part of what drew me to her—those contradictions. The shy writer who created bold characters. The innocent girl with fire in her eyes.
KAI
Even better. Brings back good memories.
I set my phone down and ran a hand through my hair. Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes to convince myself this wasn’t going to blow up in both our faces.
I paced behind the bar,straightening bottles that were already perfectly aligned. The morning sun slanted through the windows, catching dust motes in its beams. Everything sparkled from my obsessive cleaning while waiting for her.
The bell above the door chimed. My heart actually fucking stuttered.
Charlie stood in the doorway, backlit by the morning sun. Still in that yellow sundress, wrinkled from my hands fisting it as I carried her upstairs. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, face freshly washed. No makeup. Just... Charlie.
“Hi,” she said softly, clutching her backpack like a shield.
“Hi.” My voice came out rougher than intended.
She bit her lip, hovering by the door. “So... you really read it?”
I nodded, rounding the bar. “Cover to cover. Twice actually.”
Her eyes widened. “Twice?”
“Had to make sure I caught all the nuances.” I gestured to one of the booths. “Want to sit? Talk about your dragons?”
A smile tugged at her lips as she slid into the booth. “They’re not technically dragons. They’re wyrms.”
“Teach me the difference?”
I reached under the bar where I’d stashed her manuscript earlier, pulling out the well-worn pages. She opened her manuscript gleefully, and something in my chest tightened. This. This was what I wanted to see—her passion, her brilliance.
Her eyes—a striking stormy blue that still caught me off guard every time—widened at the sight of all my notes in the margins.
“You really made notes,” she breathed, taking the manuscript with reverence. Her fingers traced over my observations, questions, places where I’d simply written “!!!” because the writing had knocked me on my ass.
“Of course I did.” I slid into the booth across from her, fighting the urge to pull her into my lap instead. “Your worldbuilding is incredible. The way you’ve structured their society around the bond between rider and wyrm...”
“You don’t think it’s derivative?”
“Of what?”
“You know...” She waved her hand, those blue eyes dropping to the pages. “Every other dragon book ever written.”
I leaned in, catching her fidgeting hands. “Charlie. Look at me.”
Her stormy gaze met mine reluctantly.
“Your take is unique. The way you’ve woven the political intrigue with the romance...” I squeezed her fingers. “And that scene where Aria first connects with her wyrm? Fucking brilliant.”
She ducked her head, but not before I caught her pleased smile. “That’s actually based on research about how horses bond with their riders. I just... expanded on it.”
“See? That’s exactly what I mean. You took something real and made it magical.” I tugged her hands, making her look at me again. “Your imagination, the way your mind works... it’s beautiful.”
The way she was looking at me now had nothing to do with books.
“And let’s talk about this age gap you wrote.” I tapped a particular passage I’d marked heavily. “Five hundred years between your immortal commander and the young wyrm rider? That’s... interesting.”
