You could fall in love with her.
My inner voice didn’t shout it, but the truth of those simple words shook me to my very core. I hadn’t been looking for love—not even a little—yet here she was. Unfortunately, she wasn’t looking for love. Not that she would even look to me for that. I needed to redirect this conversation, because if I dwelled on the fact that I had feelings for her for too long, I might blurt out something stupid.
“I was a huge fan of Serena Williams,” I said. “I’m sad she retired. I loved watching her.”
“Yeah. I’m looking for a new tennis player to watch,” she said.
“Maybe we can start doing research and find one together.” That was as close as I allowed myself to get to making plans with her. Anything more in-depth than that might break me.
She grinned. “That sounds kind of fun.”
We stood together, checking our limbs to make sure nothing hurt and brushing each other off so no grass or twigs clung to us.
“Do you mind if I sit over there and write?” Bree pointed toward a table across the pathway from the one I’d been using. “Ipromise to be quiet. If this is your place, though, I don’t want to ruin that for you.”
I didn’t give the question any thought. I already knew my answer. “There’s more than enough room for both of us. In fact, I like the idea of having company, even if we don’t talk to one another.”
When she smiled, everything inside me went warm. “I like that idea too.”
And just like that, I knew I was in big trouble. I was going to fall head over heels for this woman, and we hadn’t even been out on a single date. What the hell was I supposed to do with these feelings?
19
NINETEEN
The original plan had been to avoid Brody Bates at all costs. I didn’t want to know him. I didn’t want to be friends with him. Somehow, he had made it through my defenses, however, and it wasn’t possible to ignore him.
Then I decided we should be friendly. We had to go to these author events together after all. It turned out he wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d imagined. He was witty, self-deprecating, and ridiculously hot in the nerdy way that turned me on so much. We were just going to be friends, though. I was adamant about that. I wasn’t looking for anything else.
The past month had taught me that even the best laid plans can go awry. Brody and I were stuck in a strange limbo where we were more than friends but not dating. We both made sure not to crossthatline. We were, however, constantly together.
It had been a month since we first wrote together near the pool. Since that day, we’d had a standing date. Three times a week—weekdays, to avoid the kids—we sat at our respective tables and competed to see who could get in the most words.
It wasn’t a true competition. The stakes were low. Whoever lost had to buy iced tea for the other when we were on our wayout. We were both winners, no matter who won for the day, because we were cranking out words at a fantastic rate.
I’d already finished one book and was working on a side project that I hadn’t told anybody about. It was a contemporary romance trilogy—no paranormals in sight—and different from my other books. It felt more adult, although I couldn’t put my finger on why. It didn’t matter. I was enjoying the writing and was way ahead of my deadline on the other book, which was ready for beta readers. It all worked out.
I could have taken time off and done nothing. My house still wasn’t put together from the move and needed some attention. That didn’t dissuade me from meeting Brody to write. I didn’tneedto write. Iwantedto, and I wasn’t going to just give it up.
Deep down, I understood that it wasn’t just the writing fueling me. Time with Brody was fueling me. We didn’t even talk when working. We just sat across the pathway from one another, typing away. There was no doubt we were there together, however. We were a team. I wouldn’t—or rather, couldn’t—give that up, and I refused to justify my feelings to anybody else.
Brody was getting close to finishing his fantasy book. He was writing with abandon, and he had a second project too. I’d noticed him switching between projects more than once. I never called him on it. I figured it was his business. I would have been lying if I said I wasn’t wildly curious, however.
In addition to the writing, we’d had two more author events. I’d held my breath at each one, expecting Joey to make an appearance. He didn’t, which had me hoping he’d found another endeavor to eat up his time. That made the events so much more comfortable for me.
Brody didn’t have the same good luck. Blair Bernstein—we all recognized her sickeningly cloying floral perfume now—was relentless with her lists. At each event, she showed up with new bullet points she wanted to go over with Brody. She would sitacross from him and monopolize his time. I wouldn’t have put up with it. I would have stopped engaging with her weeks before. Brody apparently had infinite patience.
We’d stopped traveling separately to the events as well. We shared an Uber, which I told myself was for convenience, but I knew better. I just wanted time with him. He seemed to want the same with me. He looked at me in a way that told me he loved spending time with me. He never pushed, though. He never asked if I felt the same way. He seemed content waiting for me to make the first move, which wasn’t going to happen. I just wanted to be friends. Or at least, I was still trying to convince myself of that. I wasn’t having a lot of luck, but I was not a quitter.
As we prepared for our latest author event, Brody glared at the scooter I’d parked in the driveway. Even though we’d fallen into a routine, I had a different plan for that night.
“Come on,” I prodded, grinning. “It will be fun.”
“No.” He vehemently shook his head. “It’s not happening.”
“Come on.”
“No.” He crossed his arms. “You’re not even supposed to be driving that thing. It’s not allowed on the grounds.”
