Page 120 of Rewrite the Rules

“Weeks ago. Cody gave me your author copy.”

Ah. I gave it to Quinn—she never gave it back. I thought she was the slowest reader on the planet, but now it makes sense. Quinn Sabin and Cody Kartlin—puppet masters this entire time. “Look…um, I realize it was probably a lot and very emotional, but no one besides our close friends knows it’s about you…or us. I hope you don’t feel like I violated your privacy.”

“You know I lied—right?”

“About what?” We both nervously laugh. Déjà vu. We’ve had this same conversation before.

“Did you mean all the wonderful things you wrote about us? Is that honestly how you felt when we were together?”

“Why would you doubt it?”

“Because I fucked it up.” Joel dips his head. “From day one. I think about it all the time. The first day I met you.I felt it.Why didn’t I just ask you out? Why did I choose to hurt us both instead?”

I stride over to him. I cup his cheek in my palm. It’s smooth and soft. He’s freshly shaven, like he prepared for this evening. “We were meant to collide exactly how we did. We both had hurts to heal. We both had to grow up a little.”

“You finished this manuscript before we broke up. It’s like I didn’t get to read the last chapter. I’m dying to know…do you hate me now?”

“You were my first love, Joel. Just because it was unrequited doesn’t mean it wasn’t real. Look at what I did with love. I found a way to be the bravest version of myself and finally put my name out there.Youinspired that for me. I don’t hate you. I’m grateful for you.”

“Loved or love?” He wraps his arms around my waist. My nerves explode, like it’s the beginning all over again. “How do you feel about me now?”

Like riding a bicycle, my body’s muscle memory kicks in and I lean into Joel’s chest. That familiar tug pulls me back, encouraging me to get wrapped up in hope for what I know I can’t have.

“I feel how I always have felt about you. Since day one. But I can’t be what we were.”

“Friends or fuck buddies?”

“Either. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this. I want it all. I want the fairy tale. I want to get married one day. I want kids. A real family. I don’t want to have to hide that anymore.” I speak with more confidence than I could ever imagine. And I imagined this conversation so many times over the past six weeks. “I think it’s best we keep our distance for now. But I am really glad I got to see you.” I nod to the fluffy white blob on the couch. “And meet her.”

Joel’s eyes dance all over my face. Up and down, side to side. His brows furrow a bit. “Will you humor me for old time’s sake? Let’s play the question game.”

“The question game?”

“Yes, but this time, I’ll lead.”

forty

Joel

Adler looks even better in person than in all the dreams I’ve had about her lately. She looks a little more grown up, yet the same. Her black business jumper gracefully hugs her body, giving her a sexy sophistication. She looks amazing, but I still love her best in ratty sweats and the sloppy bun thrown on the top of her head. I like it when she’s herself. Relaxed. Comfortable. Like all the times before when she used to trust me with her heart.

I meant to do this at the party, in front of all her friends on the most important night thus far of her author career. But everything feels perfect right now. Just Adler and me. In the place we know best. The way it should be.

I want to grab her and draw her to me right now. I want to weave my fingers through her chocolate-colored hair and kiss her rosy plump lips. I missed her so damn much. But I have to play this perfectly if I have any shot at keeping her. Everything I read in her book is giving me hope that it’s not too late.

Adler pulls off my coat and hangs it over the back of the sofa. She sits next to Kitty and plops her feet on the table.

“You want to ask the questions?” Adler raises her eyebrow at me. I join her on the sofa and it sinks a little as I sit. A puff of her sweet perfume bursts around us. The smell of home.

“Yes, what is that look for?” I ask when I see the skeptical pull on her face.

“You suck at the question game! You always ask open-ended questions. You’re supposed to ask either-or questions.”

“Can we play it my way—just this once?”

“Fine. Have at it. I’m ready.”

Are you? Am I?

---