Page 3 of Book Boyfriend
His hand rushes through his hair once more. “Could I buy you a drink?” he asks.
Oh jeez. Hereallyfeels bad. I place my hand on my heart. “No. Thank you. Oh my gosh. It was an accident. You don’t owe me anything. Please stop feeling like you do. It was nice to meet you and thank you, but I have a lot of work to do and I need to go.”
He opens his mouth and closes it abruptly before smiling and nodding. I take the opportunity and speed walk away from him. I slowly glance over my shoulder to see he’s still watching me. He raises his hand to wave and I face forward, itching my chin on my shoulder like I wasn’t intentionally turning to him. I finish my walk like it’s an Olympic event and I’m determined to win first place. Once I’ve made my way through the lobby and I’m safely inside the closed elevator, I start to laugh. What the hell was that? Weird shit happens to me all the time, but this is one for the books.
“You can’t come home. You owe me a book and so help me God you’re going to atleastgive me an outline.”
I wish I hadn’t answered my phone when I returned to my room. She might be my publisher, but she was my best friend first. I’m certain it comes as no surprise to her when I speak my mind. “Fuck it, Luna. It’s not going to happen.”
Yes, her name is Luna. Luna Lord. And no, she’s not a porn star, she just has the name of one.
“It is going to happen. You’re three months late on a deadline I pushed back a year already. Do you know how far I’ve bent for you?” she asks.
“Like a gymnast who wants to be fucked with her head by her ass?”
“Farther than that,” she responds.
“I know.” I sigh as I toss my beach bag onto the couch and wander over to my oceanfront balcony. “I thought coming here would help, but it didn’t. I think we just need to face the fact that not only did Oliver get the house in the divorce, but he also got my mojo.”
“No, he did not. That piece of shit, cheating scumbag does not get to take your career along with his old ass whore and half your income.”
Opening the doors, the cool breeze calms my flaming skin. I’m either stressed or burned. It’s hard to tell right now.
“I know it was painful for you. I know he hurt you. But you’re only thirty-one. You’re young, and single, and in prime position to have this fall’s new blockbuster book. I know you’ve got it in you. You’re not a bestselling author for nothing. You have skills. You write like no one I’ve ever seen. You can do this. You just need a story. Give me a line. Even a title. One fricking small idea and we’ll run with it!”
“I know you’re trying to help and I’m sorry I’ve been such a slug all these months. I don’t know why I thought traveling to Florida would somehow make me write. There are beaches in California and I can’t write there either.”
“You can write. Stop saying you can’t. How many times do I have to tell you about the law of attraction? Stop putting all those negative thoughts out into the world. Be positive. Positive attracts positive.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I say, rolling my eyes. I drop my phone to the table and press the speakerphone button so I can change out of my bathing suit.
“Am I on speakerphone? Dammit, I hate that!” she shouts.
“I know, but I’m full of sand and I need to shower. I can’t stand the way I feel right now.” I carry the phone with me to the bathroom and place it on the sink while I run the water.
“You hate sand. I thought you checked out a beach chair for that reason.”
“I did, but, well, some guy ran me down and I ended up under him. It’s everywhere.” I step into the shower and immediately turn down the water temperature. Now IknowI got burned. Crap.
“I’m sorry, what? You were under a guy? Why am I just hearing this now?”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“You anywhere near a guy is a big deal.”
“Shut your pie hole!” I half shout, half laugh. She’s right, though. Ever since I caught my now ex cheating, I’ve barely held a conversation with another man, much less wanted to date one. I avoid them like the plague. I see all of them as potential liars now. I can’t help it.
“Tell me what happened. I want all the details. Was he cute?”
“No.”
“Aww, he was fugly?” she asks.
“No.”
“Well, what was he then?”
I can tell she’s flustered.
