Page 95 of His Reckoning

Of course he did. The universe apparently wants to test my patience today.

I cross my arms. “Well, don’t let me interrupt.”

He glances briefly toward the couch, specifically toward my laptop, which is still open. The blank document is absolutely visible from here.

Fantastic.

“You working?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He nods once, then walks into the kitchen. He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t even look at me again. Somehow, that’s more irritating than if he did.

I go back to the couch, sit down, and grab my laptop.

The cursor blinks.

Still judgmental.

Fine.

Let’s try this again.

I start typing. Fast.

He stepped closer, his voice dropping as he?—

My fingers pause as I realize the words are suddenly coming easily.

I write another paragraph. The scene is moving, dialogue is flowing, and tension is building. I glance up without meaning to.

Sawyer is standing at the kitchen counter, making coffee. He hasn’t even looked in my direction, yet somehow, my brain just produced five hundred words in under ten minutes.

I stare back down at the screen and toward the kitchen again, then back at the screen.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Apparently, Sawyer Maccini doesn’t even have to talk to me to ruin my productivity. He just has to exist in the same apartment, and suddenly, I’m writing like someone lit a fire under my keyboard.

The worst possible thought creeps into my brain.What if he’s right?

I immediately shake my head. “No.”

Sawyer glances over from the kitchen. “Problem?”

“Yes.”

“What kind?”

“None of your business.”

He takes a slow sip of coffee. “That doesn’t sound good.”

I narrow my eyes. “You’re enjoying this.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You walked in here, and suddenly, I write half of a chapter.”