Page 78 of Rewrite the Rules

Reese is looking down at me from the iron-rod banister that encloses the front half of my bedroom. Her mouth is in a perfect ‘o’. She looks shocked like my reaction was not warranted after a simple morning greeting.It wasn’t. But I was distracted after my call with Tessa and I thought she was still sleeping like the dead.

“Good morning,” I huff as I gather laptop pieces. Go figure, right?Write a best seller, Addie—without a laptop.

I collect the cracked screen, the swollen battery, and a few scattered keyboard tiles and set them on my dining table. I grab a kitchen towel and give my dutiful warrior a proper hero’s burial.Thank you, my friend, for your service.

Reese is beside me in an instant. “I’m not taking the heat for that.”

“Fair enough. It wasn’t entirely your fault.”

She rolls her eyes. “It was time for an upgrade anyways, right?”

I can’t help but scowl in irritation. I need to start writingtoday.I don’t have the money for a laptoptoday.“That’s a great idea, Pieces. Did you check the money tree I planted on the way down here? How’s the harvest today? Pluck a few bills and let’s hit the Apple store.”

“Oooh, boy. Someone is sassy this morning. No thank you to that.”

She’s right. That’s not the way to treat my angel of a friend who came over at a moment’s notice in the middle of the night to comfort me during my highly anticipated post-sex meltdown.

“Sorry.” I hang my head. “That was Tessa on the phone.”

“Oh yeah? Hey before I check, is there anything in your fridge?”

“You already know the answer to that.”

“Want to go out for breakfast?” Reese checks her phone. “Oh, shit. I mean lunch?”

“Under one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“If I pay, may I borrow your messy love life as inspiration for the book I now have to write?”

Reese laughs hysterically. “Wouldn’t Noa’s be better inspiration? I feel like that whole situation with Chase Ford could be a book.”

“Oh, good point. Let’s rally up the troops? I’m going to need all of you and your war stories.”

Reese swipes at her phone with inhuman speed. “Let’s go to that one place we can get breakfast burritos all day.”

“We live in Colorado. That doesn’t really narrow it down.”

This is actually turning around in my favor. My mind is so consumed with my daunting new assignment that I haven’t had a moment to think of Joel and how instead of waking up on his warm, perfectly sculpted bare chest, I froze my butt off last night as Reese hogged all my covers. I don’t have time to think about where he is, what he’s doing, or if he’s thinking about me. He’s gone all week which gives me just enough time to get my emotions in check before he gets back.

“Are you expecting something?” Reese says as she opens my front door. She picks up a large flat box and begins to open it. My best friends and I have never once respected the sacred legalities of official mail. Not since we all shared an apartment. A package is to be opened immediately, regardless of whose name is on the recipient line.

“Jesus,” Reese exclaims. “She got you the good one.” She holds up a brand-new rose-gold MacBook. It’s from Tessa, so of course it’s pink. “Perfect timing, too.” Reese nods toward the laptop graveyard I made on my dining table.

Too perfect. Like planets-aligning and the-universe-calling kind of perfect.

Me:Thank you so much. Please expect a glittery handwritten thank you note in your mailbox. But you know a gift like this is kind of forcing my hand.

Tessa:That was the plan, Stan.

Me:You’re the worst.

Tessa:You’re welcome.

Me:How are you texting? Thought you were on flight?

Tessa:Data messages, girl. I buy the Wi-Fi.

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