1
Ali Mitchell
As an author, not being able to produce words felt like failing.
It felt like I was a gun with no bullets.
Worse, I was working under a deadline, which only made the pressure more intense. My days of writing for a publisher were long gone, but I was offered a seven figure book-to-film deal that my literary agent told me I’d be a fool to pass on. So here I was, staring at a blank Microsoft Word document, hoping the words would flow.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d experienced writer’s block, if ever. Writer’s block was a narrative I refused to subscribe to. Any time the words didn’t flow in the past, I was able to figure out why. If I couldn’t, I’d move on to a different book or set of characters that wanted to talk to me and let me tell their story. Because that’s what I was, or who I was—their narrator. Since this was a contracted project, I didn’t have the luxury of simply moving on to something else.
It didn’t help that this book was supposed to be, at minimum, one hundred thousand words . . . and it was contemporaryromance. Since the start of my published career, I was known for urban fiction and thriller. The last three books I wrote were erotic thrillers and romantic suspense. Somehow, that put me on this up-and-coming streaming service’s radar, and they presented the challenge of me writing a contemporary romance since they would be launching their new ad-free streaming service. Their logic was, if they streamed movies from creators their audience was already familiar with, they’d be more willing to pay for the service. I advocated for thriller, or even erotic thriller . . . something along the lines of Tyler Perry’sMea Culpa, but they wanted a straight up love story.
How in the hell was I supposed to give them a love story when I wasn’t even sure I still believed in that shit? Well, not for me at least. Every woman I loved and let get close to me romantically betrayed me, and I believed coming to that conclusion was why it was so hard for me to write this love story.
Sighing, I ran my hand over my face and shut my laptop. The words wouldn’t come just because I was sitting here staring at the screen like a damn fool. I needed inspiration. A storm was rolling through Jasper Lane today, and it was the perfect time to eat sweets, drink liquor, and watch movies until I passed out. All I could do was hope what I chose to watch would inspire me.
As I made my way to the kitchen, the lights flickered. Regardless of how bad the wind howled, I wasn’t worried about the power going out. Not only was my home a new build, but I had a backup generator as well. I wasn’t a complete recluse, but I didn’t want to deal with people unless I absolutely had to. When I built my home in the middle of the country, I made sure it was equipped with everything I could possibly need.
Moving from Memphis to Jasper Lane a little over three years ago had been a huge adjustment. While I wouldn’t call Memphis a big city, it was home and operated at a faster pace than Jasper Lane. The quiet and peace that came from being inJasper Lane made the small town living worth it though. The only thing I missed about Memphis was the food and my family. Thankfully, they understood my need to be alone.
“Aight, let’s see what we got to work with,” I mumbled, opening the refrigerator. I didn’t mind cooking, but a lot of my meals were prepped by my favorite chef. She would do two deliveries a week because I hated eating leftovers more than once. On the weekends, I usually cooked myself.
Thunder cracked the sky just as the kitchen darkened. When my son started barking, I thought it was because he was scared, then I heard someone knock on the door. For a second, I just stood there. No one ever randomly stopped by my home, so it had to be someone who was lost, or a delivery person. I let the refrigerator close behind me as I walked out of the kitchen.
Gremlin made his way around my feet before rushing back over to the door. The dog hadn’t been a part of my plans when I decided to move, but my mama insisted on getting him for me. In her mind, he was supposed to keep me from being lonely. When I first got him, I was annoyed because I didn’t want the responsibility, but he’d truly become my four legged child. It was still a running joke that she’d gotten me a Shih Tzu instead of a Pitbull or Cane Corso, or hell, even a Labrador Retriever. A part of me felt like she got that in case I gave him back, because that was the kind of dogshewanted.
“Who is it?” I yelled, nearing the door.
“Uh . . . A-Avery!”
The name wasn’t familiar to me, and neither was the face behind the door when I opened it. The most beautiful woman I’d ever seen stood there shivering and soaking wet. Shoulder length curls were stuck to her face and neck. She awkwardly pushed her hair out of her face with a huff, and it was the cutest thing I’d ever seen. Sniffling, she pushed her glasses up her nose and looked up at me, and because of the height difference andher slow gaze, it felt like it took forever for her eyes to finally meet mine. When they did, it felt like my heart literally skipped a beat.
Her dark yet bright slanted eyes widened as she smiled—and what a beautiful smile it was. Whoever Avery was, she was pretty. Fine as fuck yeah, but pretty. And petite. Her short, peanut butter hued frame continued to shake, and I was starting to wonder if it was nervousness because it was Springtime and not too cool outside. Well, shewassoaking wet, and remembering that had me opening the door wider so she could step inside.
“Go to your room, Gremlin,” I commanded to keep him from circling her ankles. I didn’t usually put him up when I had guests because this was his home, but since I didn’t know this woman or what she wanted, I figured getting him out of the way was for the best.
“Gremlin?” she repeated before sniggling. “That’s probably the cutest little dog I’ve ever seen.”
“Don’t let the looks and size fool you. He’s vicious.” Avery laughed as I closed the door behind her, but instead of inviting her further into my home, I asked “Are you lost?” because quite frankly, I couldn’t think of any other reason for her to be standing in my home.
2
Avery Felix
I’d been in love with Ali Mitchell since I was in the ninth grade. Well, in love might be a stretch. That was what the hopeless romantic in me would say . . . That part of me that fell in love with every man who showed her the slightest bit of attention and affection. I knew I fell quick and hard, but when a man proved he wasn’t worthy of my devotion, I had no problem getting back up. To me, that was the perfect balance.
What I felt for Ali was different.
It was real.
If it wasn’t love, it was a desire to know him, to have him, to experience him.
The feeling consumed me sixteen years ago.
I remember it just like it was yesterday.
I was in the school library looking for a book for my biology class. Up until then, I hadn’t really been much into reading. My eyes shifted around the library in search of my best friend, and they landed on Ali. For a while, I couldn’t stop looking at him. It wasn’t just because he was the most handsome boy I’d ever seen,though that was the case, but it was also because he’d captivated me. I didn’t realize I was staring until he looked up at me.
