“Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Tell you the truth? Noia, when’s the last time you talked about a guy the way you’re talking about him right now? Or the last time someone made you this excited?”
I shut my eyes in defeat. “Never.”
“Exactly. So maybe stop overthinking it and just... see where it goes.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one falling for a fictional character.”
“Honey, from what you’ve told me, he doesn’t sound so fictional anymore. In fact, he sounds pretty damn real to me.”
My phone buzzes with a text and my heart skips.
RYDER:I made it. You were right—this is fucking surreal.Everyone here knows who I am, and apparently, I have appointments booked out for the next three weeks!
I read the message to Sasha and I can hear the smile in her voice when she says, “Noia, I think you need to accept that whatever this is, it’s happening. So. What are you going to do?”
“What am I supposed to do, Sash?” I stare at the text. “Write him a happy ending? Write myself into his story and hope for the best?”
“First of all, youarehis story. And second, I’m coming to see this hottie for myself.”
I nearly drop my phone. “What? No!”
“Yes. I’ve got some vacation days saved up. I’ll be there Friday.”
“But—”
“No buts! My best friend manifested a hot book boyfriend into existence. I need to see him with my own eyes, make sure he’s treating you right, and ask him about any other fictional hotties he might know. Maybe he has a friend.”
I groan, pressing my palm to my forehead. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love me for it. Text him back, clean up whatever disaster zone I know you’re living in, and prepare the other guest room.”
My voice sounds small when I ask, “What if he’s gone by the time you get here?”
Sasha’s voice softens. “Then we’ll figure it out together. But I have a feeling he’s not going anywhere.”
After we hang up, I text Ryder back.
ME:That’s incredible. How do you feel?
Three dots appear, disappear, then reappear.
RYDER:Better than expected.Gotta go. TTYL.
I toss the phone on the coffee table and lie backon the couch.
Goonie saunters in, meows, leaps onto the couch with a grunt and pads his way up my body, kneading his paws against my stomach before making himself at home on my chest.
“Oof! Damn, fur ball. You’re getting heavy,” I grumble. Sliding my hand over his soft fur, he starts to purr and I begin to relax.
I stare up at the ceiling, watching the patterns of sunlight shift across the plaster.
“Guess we’re running with the punches from now on, huh, boy? And between you and me? I sure hope it’s going to be a bumpy ride.”
SIXTEEN
ryder
