Page 45 of I Love to Hate You
Kendrick frowns and tilts his head. “Okay, but that only makes the new title more confusing to me. It’sA Good Girl’s Guide, which makes it sound like it’s in the woman’s POV.”
I roll my eyes. “God, men are dumb.”
Kendrick throws his hands up. “What the fuck?”
“Okay, it’s notallmen. It’s just you.” Kendrick’s eyes widen, but I ignore it and keep going, grinning to myself. “Look, Nasir’s name is golden at this point. His books have made a permanent home on the NYT bestseller’s list. He’s known asthe namein BDSM romance because he lives the lifestyle in real life. Obviously he knows what it takes to be a good Dom … because he is one. Get it?”
Kendrick glares at me without blinking.
“Wow. Since he knows what it takes to be a good Dom, and he also has extensive experience with submissives—who he often refers to as good girls—he clearly has written a book from a submissive’s POV to explain to men what it takes to be a good Dom. It’s a brilliant strategy, which is why you can’t see it.”
“What? Because I’m not brilliant?”
“Exactly.”
Kendrick suddenly lunges forward and digs his fingers into my side, making me jump and laugh at the same time. Every head in the room snaps toward us as he jabs me in the leg for good measure, extending my laughter and adding his own smile to the mix. I may have said he’s not brilliant, but seeing that smile of his makes me feel like I’m sitting on air above the clouds.
“Keep fucking with me,” he jokes.
I fail at suppressing a grin. “Maybe I will.”
The room falls silent, and it’s the sound of my own blood rushing that makes me realize that everyone is watching us. I look around and see both teams have stopped working to stare at us, and even Denver is gawking, his brows raised to the ceiling and his lips pressed into a line. The look on his face tells me what he and everyone else is thinking—there’s something between Kendrick and I, and it’s glaring.
Kendrick, noticing the same thing, clears his throat and sits back in his chair. “Umm, so I see what you’re saying there. He’s switching to a woman’s POV to tell men how to be better Doms for submissives.”
I straighten in my seat and re-focus on the computer. “Exactly. The change gives us a lot to go off of as far as marketing.”
“Switching POVs to speak directly to men. It’s literally a guide,” he says.
“Just in case his other books went over men’s heads, here’s a book with the wordguidein the title to make it clear.”
“You’re right. It’s brilliant.”
“Told you.”
“Yeah. I see it,” he says. “I see it as clear as day now.”
I pull my eyes away from the computer for a brief second, but that’s all it takes to see the way he is looking at me. It’s the same look he had as he sat across from me in his car, and it gives me a head rush. He’s not even trying to hide what he’s thinking, and I want to smile but I can’t let myself.
“It’s about time,” I quip, before going back to the computer and opening a blank PowerPoint document. I feel Kendrick’s gaze fixed on me, but I do my best to not let it distract me.
We spend the next few hours reading through Nasir Booker’s career and reviews, while focusing primarily on the premise behind the new book. Out of nowhere, we fall completely in sync and begin feeding off each other. I come up with the layout for the presentation, while Kendrick thinks up brilliantly worded descriptions. I marvel at how fast he can come up with something after all I’ve given is an image of a book cover. If there’s one area that he excels, it’s in his ability to formulate words in a way that he doesn’t speak them. It’s like his brain has a switch, and the minute he puts his fingers to a keyboard, he flips into another person who speaks a different language, one that is much more complex and beautiful. It’s like everything in his mind is written in calligraphy and it comes out of his fingers as art. By the time we’re finished, we both know we have brilliance in front of us.
“Damn,” Kendrick says, his eyes bouncing from the screen to me.
“Yeah,” I reply. “Looks good.”
“No doubt.”
“So, we’re ready?”
He nods. “I think we are.”
“I guess you did a good job,” I jab jokingly.
“Thanks. I guess you were all right.”
We smirk at each other, just in time for Denver to clear his throat.
