Pretending to, and making out with him, andreallyenjoying it.
No response from Felix by the time I was pouring coffee into a travel mug.
But then again, I had no idea what time he normally got up, and I knew it was early for most people. He’d text me back when he was awake.
Or I’d know I’d make a mistake.
Either way, no point worrying about it now. Bookshelves to assemble.
11
Felix
The birds were singingand the sun was well and truly up by the time I rolled out of bed, and if it hadn’t been for the shaft of light cutting right across my face and jerking me awake, I probably wouldn’t have gotten up just yet.
The bed was warm, and comfy, and I wasexhausted.
After Kieran had left last night, I’d written another four thousand words. If I kept this pace up, I’d be done…
Well, math wasn’t my strongest subject, butsoon. Soon enough that maybe Angelica and my publishers would forgive me and we could start talking about what I wanted to do next.
I’d told Kieran last night about my half-assed pirate fantasy idea, and he’d listened patiently and even asked some questions that’d forced me to think deeper, figure out what it was that I actually wanted to do.
He hadn’t kissed me again, and I couldn’t help being a little disappointed about that. The first time had beennice, and there’d never been a worse-timed pizza delivery in the history of pizza delivery.
The sudden buzz of my phone vibrating on the nightstand made me jump. I’d been staring out the window, where there was a big, tall, straight cedar whose branches were gently swaying in the breeze outside, hypnotizing me.
Sighing, I reached for my phone.
Angelica:cute boy posted this on his Instagram
Attached was a picture of what was obviously Kieran’s hand holding my book open to chapter fifteen, taken in perfect, warm lighting, with the hint of a coffee mug over the top corner of the book.
I clicked through to the post out of curiosity.
@FGHarris is pretty talented, huh? Anyone else read this?
Talented.
That was adorable.Kieranwas adorable, which shouldn’t have been a surprise—he always had been.
He was the kindest, sweetest person I’d ever known and I wanted to make out with him all over again. Maybe a friendly blowjob as a reward.
He has a name, I responded, flicking back to Kieran’s Instagram feed. The first few photos were nature and food, but then there was a post-workout selfie with his shirt lifted up that was so hot I had to put my phone down for a second to recover.
Angelica: Yeah, ‘cute boy’
I snorted.
It’s Kieran
Angelica: cool, I’ll put that on his place card for the launch. Right?
Right. Place card?
Angelica: you’re a rock star, honey. You get place cards for your big launch dinner.
Part of me wanted to laugh—place cardsas a rock star privilege was ridiculous—but another part of me wanted to weep for joy.
