Page 39 of The Write Stuff

“Science fiction romance.”

He made a face. “That’s okay, I guess.”

His response grated. “Well, thanks for that.” I managed to pull my hand away, finally, but it took more effort than I was anticipating. “I should be getting back.” I took a big step to my left, so big I almost fell, but he moved in front of me to cut off my escape angle.

“What’s your hurry?”

“The event only lasts another hour,” I replied. “I’m supposed to be talking to the readers. I signed a contract and stuff.” Surely, he couldn’t argue with that.

“Well, how about this?” he practically purred as he leaned in closer. “How about I walk you home after the event? Then we can get to know one another.”

That wasn’t going to happen, although it did bring up an interesting question. How did he even know I was going to walk home? Rather than ask that, I sent a desperate look back toward the table, hoping Bree or Bella would recognize I was struggling and come help me. I didn’t see them, though.

Who I did see was Huxley. He stood near the table I’d been at before heading to the bar, nodding politely as a woman went on and on about something he was clearly uninterested in. He wasn’t looking at her, though. He was looking at me.

I only had a moment to think. I hated Huxley, after all. I wasn’t afraid of him, though, and for some reason Chad made my skin crawl. Before I realized what I was going to do, I raised my hand and started waving. It wasn’t just any wave. It was a full-fledged panic wave.

Huxley didn’t even hesitate before starting in my direction. He offered some sort of noncommittal apology to the woman he’d been talking to and then beelined toward me, his shoulders squared. He looked like a gladiator about to do battle. Or maybe that was my teenage hormones roaring to the surface yet again.

Either way, he was coming, and I’d never been so happy to see anybody in my life.

11

ELEVEN

Wylie was in trouble. I didn’t know how I knew that, but one look at her face, the way she’d gone white and furtive, told me all I needed to know. She was afraid, and it was the guy who’d been watching her all night who had made her that way.

I’d seen him several times. He always stood at the outskirts of the crowd, pretending to mingle, but he never actually talked to any of the other authors as far as I could tell. I’d started watching him at some point just to see if he interacted with anybody. It was always possible he was shy. He never did, though, and he didn’t follow any particular author except for Wylie.

It was obvious he liked what he saw because once he caught sight of her, he never stopped following her movements. I didn’t like it.

Wylie, of course, was oblivious. I took to watching her as much as the guy who tracked her from one end of the rooftop bar to the other. She lit up when she was talking to the readers. Even when one of the readers dug in on the minutiae of her book — something that always made me uncomfortable because I didn’t always remember what they were talking about — she listened with rapt attention. When Wylie gave someone her full attention, it was as if she turned into the sun and the reader was a plant that hadn’t seen a single ray over the course of a long, brutal winter. Wylie had no idea the effect she had on people.

It had me feeling guilty. Why was I so determined to give her a hard time about the freaking Klingon? It didn’t matter. Other people found it adorable. Hell, I secretly found it adorable. I just couldn’t let it go, though, and I had no idea why.

The Klingon didn’t matter now, though. What mattered was that Wylie looked as if she was boxed in, and like all caged animals, she was about to gnaw her own arm off to get away. She didn’t deserve to feel like that. I would make sure she was okay, one way or another.

I was moving before I realized it was going to happen, and when I cut through the crowd, I made sure to use my wide shoulders to bump Wylie’s overenthusiastic fan to the side to clear a path for me to get through.

“There you are!” My voice boomed so loudly that Wylie jolted. “I’ve been looking for you.” I swooped in and pressed a proprietary kiss on Wylie’s cheek. Even I didn’t know it was going to happen until I was already making contact. And, man, why did her skin have to be so soft? She smelled like something I wanted to eat, something I’d been starved for my entire life. She was coconut on the surface and something else — limes? — underneath. Whatever she was using as body wash was divine.

“Hi,” she said, sounding a little breathless.

I smiled and brushed her hair away from her face before realizing what I was going to do. “Hey, sweetheart. I was looking for you.” Sweetheart? Where had that come from?

Wylie looked confused. “Um … this is Chad,” she said finally, seemingly making up her mind that I was here to help. She might not have wanted to accept help from me — and I didn’t blame her — but she knew that I would never hurt her that way, which made me an acceptable rescuer. “He just offered to walk me home.”

The fear in her eyes at that prospect made me want to start throwing punches, something I’d never done. One of my mother’s husbands — the fourth one, I believe, Chet — decided I needed to know how to protect myself. He’d tried to teach me how to box. It hadn’t gone well. Now, though, I would throw a punch for Wylie if I needed to do it. I didn’t even care if I broke my hand.

“Oh, thanks, man.” I leveled a smile on Chad that was somehow both ice and fire in intensity. “I’m doing that, though. We’re going home together.”

Chad took an inadvertent step back. I might not have been a trained fighter, but I was a solid six inches taller than him, and I worked out, so I had muscles. They at least looked impressive.

“Sorry.” Chad immediately held up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t realize you two were together.”

“No harm,” I lied. If he’d instilled even a moment of fear in Wylie’s life, harm had been done. I was trained in how to handle a situation like this, though, and drawing attention from the other readers wasn’t the way to go. “You didn’t know.” I slung my arm around Wylie and internally cursed when she fit perfectly against my side. She felt small but not weak. She was warm, and I could smell her body spray again. It was unnerving. “I’m glad you were around to offer her protection for the walk. I’ve got it, though.”

“Right. Yeah.” Chad cast one more furtive look toward Wylie. “It was nice meeting you,” he offered lamely.