Talon
What about you? Any pets?
Livvi
Nope. Just me and my books.
Talon
Figures. You strike me as someone who’d pick fictional characters over real people any day.
Livvi
Depends on the people.
I stared at those four words on the screen, my thumb hesitating over the send button. Too much? Too obvious? But I pressed it anyway.
The dots appeared. Disappeared. Then came back.
Talon
Fair enough.
That was all. But my stomach still did this weird twisty thing, like his short reply carried something unsaid beneath it.
The conversation slowed after that, drifting intosilence the way texts sometimes did. The quiet filled my room, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind that made me want to keep checking my phone, just in case. It wasn’t until I adjusted and my neck cracked that I realized how late it had gotten. My eyes burned from staring at the screen.
And that’s when I noticed what I hadn’t done.
I hadn’t once thought to check BookPad.
Normally, I’d be halfway through a conversation withTheWriteGuyby now, hanging on every word, grinning like an idiot at his messages. But tonight? Nothing.
My shoulders dipped with guilt.
Because it wasn’t that I’d forgotten him. It was worse. I’d been so caught up in Talon—his teasing, his stupid aquarium, the way he’d said he’d read every single one of my favorite books—that I hadn’t evenwantedto check.
Heat crawled up the back of my neck.
I likedTheWriteGuy. I did. He was safe, easy to talk to, someone who made me feel understood. But Talon … Talon was real. Tangible. Messy and frustrating and right there in front of me.
And now I was stuck between the two of them—caught in the middle of something I wasn’t ready to acknowledge but couldn’t ignore either.
I sat up, tugging the blanket away as if sitting straighter would clear the heaviness pressing down on me. My phone felt suddenly heavier too, the glow of the screen far too bright.
I opened BookPad with a swipe, my heart thudding harder than it should’ve.
There it was—his username at the top of my inbox. A new message. Sent hours ago.
The screen blurred for a second as guilt pricked sharp behind my eyes. I blinked quickly, forcing myself to focus.
My finger hovered over the notification, the words taunting me:You have a new message from TheWriteGuy.
I wanted to tap it. I wanted to read what he’d said. But another part of me—the part that still felt warm from Talon’s texts, the part still hearing his voice in my head—hesitated.
I was standing in two worlds, and I wasn’t sure which one I wanted more.
CHAPTER 13
