Page 7 of Room 1212

“What?”

“The books. They’re not mine. They actually belong to the seniors at the retirement center I work at. They couldn’t make it today, so they asked if I would bring them in to get signed. I, uh, put post-it notes on the covers with the names of who each one belongs to, to make it easier for you.”

“Oh. Right. Thank you, that was very considerate of you.” My face was so hot, I hated to imagine how red I must’ve looked. I kept my eyes on the books in front of me, focusing on the name for each personalization, working through the stack.

"I have read some of them,” the alpha admitted sheepishly. “You know, out of curiosity… but I found them a bit cliché.”

I paused, my pen hovering an inch over the page. “Cliché? How so?” I asked, that all-too-familiar feeling of doubt creeping over me. I didn’t often get criticism at my own signings. Usually, the people here were die-hard fans with nothing bad to say about my books.

“Well, for starters, the sex scenes are a little…” I held my breath, waiting for him to finish the sentence. “…Unrealistic.”

I nearly choked. “Unrealistic?!”

“Yeah. For one thing, they always ‘forget’ condoms, and that is so incredibly irresponsible. And they never pee after sex. I mean, that would give anyone a urinary tract infection, don’t you think?”

I scoffed, dropping my pen onto the table. “Pfft! Everyone knows that, but nobody wants to read about bathroom practices.”

“Well, you’re not wrong about that, but don’t you owe it to your readers to be more accurate? What if they don’t have parents to teach them this stuff, and so they’re learning about it from you? Using you as an instruction booklet of sorts? And don’t even get me started on the stereotypes.” Wow, he was really on a roll now.

“What? What stereotypes?” I sputtered, leaning back and crossing my arms over my chest.

“Oh, please. Every omega needs to be saved, and every alpha just happens to have this massive ‘member,’” he said, putting air quotes around the word. “And everyone is ridiculously good-looking, with their bulging muscles and flowing locks. Just once, you should have a character look average, you know, like me.”

I found it hard to believe he didn’t realize he was definitely above average, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. Not after he had so very efficiently torn apart my livelihood.

Blowing a hard breath out through my nose, I snatched my pen back up and quickly finished signing the last of his books. The faster I could get this asshole out of here, the better. Stupid alpha, what did he know? He wasn’t even one of my real readers! Who the hell did he think he was? You could be damn sure I was writing him into my next book as a villain—and then I would kill him! No! Even better, I would disfigure him, so that stupid dimple of his got ripped off his stupid handsome face.

The last book in the stack didn’t have a post-in on it. I looked around for a lost piece of paper, but there was no sight of it. “Do you know who this one is for? There’s no name.”

“Oh, uh… that one is for Drew.”

“Right.” I signed it, nearly stabbing my pen through the page, and pushed it back across the table at him. “There you go.” Then, because I needed to maintain a professional appearance, I tacked on, "Thanks for stopping by." The smile I offered him was tight, though.

At least he seemed to realize he’d really stepped in it. He winced and started shoving the books back in the bag. “Sorry if I—”

“It’s fine. Have a great rest of your day.” I didn’t want his apology. I told myself that his opinion didn’t matter, that I couldn’t please everyone, that he was just the personification of a one-star review. It wouldn’t change anything. I would still write my books, my fans would still read them, and this alpha could go on judging them—but I would really appreciate it if he would do it from far, far away.

He hooked his bag over his shoulder and, with a final pained look over his shoulder, he disappeared through the crowd, back to whatever swamp he’d crawled out of.

It took a lot of effort to go back to smiling for my fans, but I did my best. I listened to their praise, their over-the-top compliments, and yet, the only thing I seemed to hear were the alpha’s harsh words ringing over and over again in my ears.

Because in the back of my mind… I wondered if maybe he was right.

4

Drew

Imovedtoblockthe door and looked down on the elderly woman with the sternest expression I could muster. “Lavender…” I began, narrowing my eyes. It was hard not to laugh, though, as the tip of a cat’s gray tail flicked back and forth from under her coat.

She tilted her chin to look up at me and batted her eyelashes in faux innocence. “What?” she asked. “Did I do something wrong?”

I folded my arms over my chest and tapped my toe. If it came to waiting her out, I knew I would win. The others had already boarded the bus, and there was no way they would let her delay their trip. Inevitably, someone would need to pee, and if she was the cause of any kind of accidents, there would be hell to pay.

Davis slid his window down and stuck his head out the window. “Give it up, Lavender! Hand over the cat and get on the damn bus.”

Lavender huffed but relented with minimal fuss. She reached into her coat and pulled out Felix, the center’s cat. His fluffy gray fur was standing up in all directions, and he was purring in full force. “I just thought he might like to get out for a bit, stretch his legs. He’s always cooped up in there. It’s not fair.”

“I promise you that Felix loves it here. He’s got a sunny sofa with his name on it, and I’ll even pick up some cat treats while we’re at the store. How’s that sound?”

---