Page 49 of Rewrite the Rules

“Honey, don’t fret. I’ll send you the entire line when you get home. It’sgoodstuff. It’s the only reason I don’t need serious Botox right now.”

I roll my eyes. Tessa is beautiful and sophisticated and if she ever doubted herself, the fact that she’s still hooking up with twenty-year-olds should be validation enough. Have I mentioned she’s my hero?

“The entire line?” I ask. “How well isToy With Medoing, anyways? I knew I should’ve asked for royalties.”

“You can have royalties…on your next book. That you should write. Under your name,” she demands. I groan. How did we get back here again? “Addie, come on mama, talk to me. Whatever insecurities you have about all this, let me help you with them.”

“Why do you care so much about me, Tess? Honestly? Are you afraid I’m going to spill our little secret and try to ruin you? Because outside of my innermost circle I haven’t told anyone. You know I’m trustworthy. You don’t have to placate me. Look…I tried the whole author thing before. I failed. I’m not interested in that kind of humiliation again.”

Tessa pinches the bridge of her nose and grunts in frustration. “Adler, what’s on my baseball card?”

“What?”

“Let’s call it my writing stats. Iknowyou know them. What are they?”

“Mmmm, off the top of my head? You’ve been writing for over fifteen years and you’ve independently published six novels with the remaining twelve picked up by the biggest publisher in the game. You’ve been a best seller on New York Times, USA Today, Publishers Weekly, and several more that escape me at the moment. Three of your books have been optioned for movies. Between sales, merch, and endorsements your net worth is roughly in the ballpark of a gazillion.”

Tessa opens her mouth to speak but I’m not quite done.

“And as far as the miscellaneous details—you still plot your novels by hand in a Five Star binder. You don’t like ice cream but will tolerate gelato. You tell everyone your favorite pastime is reading, but it’s really bingeingThe Real Housewives of Orange County. And you have a pet guinea pig named Jelly Belly but interestingly enough the name has nothing to do with jelly beans.”

Tessa stares at me the same way she would at a flying shark. It’s the look I imagine any sane person might have when witnessing an aquatic apex predator take flight. She takes a slow bite into another crunchy lemon cookie. “Gazillion is a major exaggeration. Also, not a word. Also, I’m worried you might be stalking me a bit.”

“Abitis an understatement.” I wink at Tessa and shoot her a creepy smile.

“Okay, psycho. Well, what I’m trying to get at is that you have no idea about the collection of short stories I self-published that someone called so terrible I should hire someone to write my resume…for McDonalds. Or, the regency romances I wrote that a professional reviewer said was gut-wrenchingly awful and that my writing style was ridiculously immature as if I was trying to rewritePride and Prejudicefrom the POV of the cast ofSesame Street.”

“Wow.” I stifle my smile because honestly? A Mr. Darcy puppet would be adorable.Come on!

“My point is, once upon a time I didn’t think I could make it as a writer either. That’s why I care. I look at you and I see me fifteen years ago.” Tessa shrugs. “And I got lucky enough to find a mentor who pushed me when I was scared the most. I’m trying to pay it forward.”

I was planning to be snarky. But Tessa is incredibly sweet and I’m unworthy. She’s offering me everything right now. I at least have to explain myself. I refasten the tie around my fluffy robe as I stand to collect two more beers. I twist the lids off both bottles and hand over another round.

“I’d been ghostwriting for a while when you found me. Working with you changed everything. I’d never written romance like that before.Toy With Mewas so different. It was raw and honest but also fun and sexy. I didn’t know those two could…mesh. It has become the new standard in my world.”

Tessa doesn’t interrupt. She patiently waits for further explanation.

I sigh heavily. “But you spoon-fed me all the scenes. We spent hours on the phone as I dissected your memories and feelings.I never could’ve put that together on my own. Great romance writers, like you, pull from their experiences—their pain, their passion, their pleasure. I don’t have any of those.”

Tessa’s face pinches in a puzzled expression as she takes a long swig from her beer. “As in you’ve never had your heart seriously broken?”

“I’ve never hadanything. I’ve never had my heart broken. I’ve never been in love. I’ve never had sex—”

A disgusting liquid spray catches the side of my cheek.

“Oh my god. Sorry!” Tessa apologizes for spewing a mouthful of beer all over the hotel furniture, and the right side of my face. I nod as I digest her dramatic reaction.Yup, that seems about right.She’s choking at the thought of a twenty-five-year-old virgin. That doesn’t make me feel like a freak at all.

“Sorry again, I just…” Tessa trails off as her eyes bulge. She shakes her head at me in disbelief. “I mean our book…never in a million years did I think—so wait, how did you articulate the details for certain scenes?” The mischievous look on her face indicates the scenes she’s referring to.

I will never ever admit to anyone out loud how much porn skimming I endured to get a clear visual about some of the more elaborate tantric sex positions.I’m willing to bet that’s why my laptop is on the fritz. It probably has a chronic virus that will claim its life any day now. My browser history looks like a horny teenager’s, who finally figured out how to sneak past the child safety internet locks. There’s…variety. Let’s leave it at that.

“Um, you know just like…research…interviews…books and whatnot.” I do not sound convincing.

Tessa snorts. “Mhm, suuure.” She fluffs her platinum-blonde bangs and dabs at her mouth with the backs of her knuckles. “So why not? Is this a religious thing? Are you saving yourself?”

“No, I just never could get over the hump—pun very much intended by the way. Every time I’ve gotten close to goingtherewith a guy, I just couldn’t shake that awful awkward feeling. And I’m not talking about awkward like nerves, I’m talking about being so far in my head that I’m calculating in ounces how much saliva is pouring from their tongue onto mine.” I fake gag as a visual. “I notice how clammy their hands are when they touch me. I notice how long their arm hair is and if it’d be possible to braid it. Every time I get close to something physical with a guy, the least sexy thoughts take over my mind. Like giant red flags. I had a boyfriend for a while in college but the only reason it worked is that he never pressured me to do anything.I thought for the longest time I was broken, or missing some fundamental sexual hardware, until…”

“Until what?” Tessa is practically drooling for my response. She blinks her thick eyelashes at me in expectation. “Until what? Dear god, finish your sentence!”

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