I had been too distracted writing yesterday to do it, and now that I realized I hadn’t showered after the plane, I wanted to scrub every inch.
I took the time to scrunch some conditioner and gel into myhair so my curls would look halfway decent for my events today. Wild curls gave an artistic vibe, but without definition, I tended to wander into Einstein territory.
I emerged from the bathroom thirty-five minutes later in a cute sundress and sandals, ready to face the day.
First, I had to face Hayes, who was looking ten shades of pissed off…and also so hot he could burn toast. He wore a skintight black T-shirt, black dress pants, and black shoes. Not a hair was out of place despite probably getting as much sleep as I did. His arms were crossed firmly over his chest, showing off every vein and muscle in his forearms.
Alright, karma, I get it.
“Rough night?” he deadpanned.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
He didn’t respond to that, just led me to the elevator. We headed down to the lobby and walked to the counter in the attached café.
“Good morning, what can I get you?” the overly cheery barista asked, running her eyes over Hayes a little too slowly for my liking.
He wasmycharacter inspiration. She could get her own.
“I’ll have a large black coffee and an egg white omelet.”
“I’ll have the biggest caramel latte you can find, and…what kind of muffins do you have?”
“She’ll also have the omelet,” Hayes said, flashing the barista a smile that had her obeying with a smile of her own.
I put my hands on my hips. “I can order my own food.”
He leaned against the counter and faced me while we waited. “You need protein to stay full until lunchtime. We don’t have time for snack runs. Rule five, remember?”
I huffed. “Well, we’d better have time for peebreaks because this isn’t the only caffeine I’ll be having today.”
He carried our food and drinks to a table when they came up, but predictably, the argument wasn’t over. “You should have slept when I told you, Darling.”
“Darling? Really? Don’t start giving me cute nicknames, Captain Killjoy.”
He pressed his thumbs into his temples. “Darling is your last name, and all I’m trying to do is keep you from crashing halfway through the day.”
I pointed my fork at him. “I thrive on this kind of mess. Writing is not a nine-to-five gig.”
“Apparently, neither is babysitting you.”
“It would be an easier job if you would lighten up and let me do my thing.”
He shook his head and turned his attention to his breakfast.
******
The bookstore was already buzzing when we arrived. Fans were lined up out front, holding tote bags and copies of my latest book. My face stared back at me from a large sign on the front door.
I had been a writer for a long time, but this was my first brush with recognition and being truly in demand. I swallowed hard. This was an author’s dream and an introvert’s nightmare.
I should have gotten more sleep.
“Is this where you tackle people?” I asked Hayes, distracting myself from my nervousness by bothering him. “The lady with the cane looks like she’s plotting something, and nothing sayshere-to-start-a-riotlike mom jeans and a sensible ponytail.”
He shot me a look. “Come on, smart-ass.”
He settled his hand against my lower back as we weaved through the crowd toward the back entrance. His touch was as grounding as it was distracting, which I didn’t want to think too hard about just now. Cameras flashed, and people called my name as if I were royalty. I couldn’t imagine ever getting used to this kind of attention.
