Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
I lengthen my strides. “Screw you, Eric Steinmann!”
“You did! That’s just it. And it was so goddamn unforgettable that I felt angry that you lied to me, that you let a book ruin it. So I took it out on your manuscript.” He grabs my shoulder and forces me to stop, placing himself in front of me like an angry roadblock.
“Oh, gosh … I’m so sorry. I’m sure the blond girl from last night can spread her legs just as wide as I can spread mine. So save ‘the sex was goddamn unforgettable’ story for someone else.”
“It was more than the sex, and you know it.” He steals my coffee and struts in the other direction.
“Hey!” I chase him.
Fishing a key from his pocket, he opens the door to his T-shirt shop. I reach for the handle before it shuts.
He pivots and glares at me, but I don’t flinch. He’s done making me feel bad about myself and intimidating me. Reaching past me, he locks the door and takes my coffee to his office.
“If it were more than sex, you would not have made me feel bad about myself.”
He sets the coffee on the desk and looks up at me with total disbelief. “I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS YOUR BOOK!”
I jump, heart racing.
He blows out a long breath, the expression on his red face softening into regret. “I didn’t know …”
“What would you have done … had you known?” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I … I would have lied. And maybe it wouldn’t have felt like a total lie, and maybe I wouldn’t have been able to read it through clear glasses. A blinding desire.”
“I’m done. I will pull the book from retailers, and I’m just … done.”
Eric’s forehead wrinkles, and he nods slowly.
“That’s it?” I cough for a second in disbelief. “A nod? Are you not going to tell me not to give up? To write another book?”
He eases into his chair and folds his hands over his red T-shirt-clad chest. “Successful people have one thing in common—they’re self-motivated. If I have to tell you not to give up, to write another book, and fight for your dreams … you’ll never be a published author. Period.”
I thought my world was crumbling when he told me his parents owned Roseland Publishing and he had my manuscript. I felt the same when my mom texted me with her lukewarm opinion of my book.
I was wrong.
Right now … I feel like a massive failure because part of me needs outside approval, a pat on the back, and words of encouragement. This is my lowest point.
Picking up my knocked-out ego, I slide it into my pocket and smile at Eric while I close the distance between us with hesitant steps. He sits up straight, spreading his knees wide to accommodate my body to stand between them. My hands press to his cheeks, and he leans into my touch. It makes things so much harder, but I do it anyway. I love him. I will never say those words, but I love him. Despite everything … I love him.
But I’m broken.
I’m lost.
I’m hurt.
My lips press to his in a slow kiss. His initial hesitation tells me he’s not expecting this. Not now. Maybe not ever again. Pulling back, I hold his gaze, admiring the wonder in his eyes. He’s trying to figure out what’s happening, what it means.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Snagging my coffee from his desk, I leave his store and his life.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Three years later …
Eric
When I grow up, I want to be a …
Hell, I still don’t know. After giving the girl a speech on following dreams and achieving success and then letting her walk out of my life, I’ve managed to jump from T-shirts to publishing to journalism. My parents sold their publishing company, which prompted me to write an article on a monetized blogging platform about big publishers gobbling up smaller publishers and the effect on the world. That’s led to several contributing editor positions with major online news outlets.
Then my mom decided to leave my dad.
My dad decided to stop showering, shaving, or caring about life.
Now we’re roommates.
“How do you feel about an exclusive?” Robbie, the managing editor at Benevolence, a digital media company, asks while I type up my next blog. My dad’s napping, so I must get as much done as possible. I imagine it’s like having a toddler who needs to be entertained and supervised during all waking hours.
I stare at my phone screen for a second as if she can see me through the speaker. “I don’t know how I feel because you’re being too vague.” My attention returns to the computer monitor.
She laughs. “Fair. A woman in Nashville saved a three-year-old, a six-year-old, and their family dog from drowning. She was injured in the process. A bystander on a bridge caught the rescue on his phone. It’s going viral as we speak. I’ll have my assistant book your flight and send you the rest of the details.”