“Did you hear that?” I asked.
“What I just said? Or…?”
“No, there was… there’s something in the fucking attic. Shh.”
Angelica went quiet on the other end of the line as I listened for the sound again.
Nothing.
Fuck. Was I finally about to crack? Was I due a nervous breakdown? Authors were supposed to have those from time to time, right?
Hell, Angelica had ordered me out here, to a creepy little cabin in the middle of fuckingnowhere, in an attempt to stop exactly that from happening.
I wasn’t convinced it was the best possible cure.
“If it’s an axe murderer, get his number before he kills you,” Angelica said. “I’ve got another author writing a thriller that starts like this.”
“… that’s so, so comforting,” I said. “Thank you so much. I’m gonna sleep a lot better tonight.”
“I don’t want you sleeping,” Angelica pointed out. “I want you writing.”
“I’ll write if Alex can be gay,” I said, which sounded like an ultimatum, but was actually just a statement of fact. I didn’t know how to write this next book if Alex and Eliot didn’t get together. They’d lived in my head for five years now, I knew what they wanted, and I couldn’t make them want anything else. “What the hell does wrong kind of gay mean?”
“Your last ten relationships have been less than two hours long,” Angelica said.
I opened my mouth to object, but couldn’t decide whether to go withsome of them stayed the nightorit’s probably been more than ten.
Colin had really done a number on me, huh? It’d been two years, and I wasstillpicking up the pieces.
“I know you’ve been having a rough time after Colin,” Angelica said, as if she could read my mind.
Not that she’d really need to. She’d been there for the fallout.
“But you’re not exactly a wholesome role model in real life, y’know?” she continued, gently.
“Alex doesn’t have to be like me,” I said, and evenIcould hear how pathetic I sounded. “I’ve never asked you for anything. I’ve taken every suggestion you’ve given me with grace. Let me have this?”
“It’s not about what Alex is like. It’s about the publisher wondering whether you’re gonna attend book signings with your adorable boyfriend or slip your number to one of the dads.”
“That happenedonce,” I said. “And he was into it. No harm done. My gaydar is laser-accurate, thank you.”
“You know what I’m saying, I know you do. You’re not stupid, you can see what works and what doesn’t. Either find that adorable, safe, wholesome boyfriend or Alex and Eliot are really good friends and you can write fanfic under a pseudonym about them later.”
The sound of a car driving up the gravel drive outside stopped me from arguing further.
“I think my maintenance guy just turned up,” I said.
“What makes you think it’s a guy? Could be a maintenance woman.”
“Could be a maintenance non-binary person,” I allowed. “I’m still working on not usingguyas a gender-neutral term. We can’t all be born perfect.”
Angelica snorted. “I never said I was perfect. Just that some maintenance people aren’t men.”
A glance out the rain-streaked window revealed an approaching figure who, while blurry, definitely looked like a man to me.
My sense of attractive, potentially-available men approaching was also laser-accurate.
“I’d bet money that this one is. Wait, no, I’ll bet Alex’s sexuality that this one is.”
