Page 31 of Smoke and Glitter

"We always have time according to you."

"Usually do."

His mouth finds the side of my neck before he finally backs away.

"I'm getting my jacket."

I turn toward the mirror and reach for my second earring.

There's a space beside his sink for my things now.

I don't remember either of us making it. My makeup ends up there when I stay over. My earrings go on the little shelf while I get ready. One of my hair ties is sitting beside his razor, exactly where I left it.

My hand slows around the earring.

For a second, I can see myself standing here tomorrow morning, then doing the same thing next Saturday.

I put on my lipstick before the picture gets any bigger.

Dom rented a limo for everyone. By the time Sam and I get downstairs, Summer and Colt are standing beside it arguing about her book.

Colt has one foot inside the car and the other on the curb when he turns back toward her. "You cannot kill him halfway through the story."

Summer catches the door before it swings toward her. "I wrote him. I can do whatever I want to him."

Bex arrives just in time to hear that and stops beside Summer. "I'm with Colt."

Summer looks at her in disbelief. "You haven't even read it."

"I don't need to." Bex reaches past Colt to toss her purse onto one of the seats. "If he's the hot one, he stays alive."

"You don't know if he's hot."

"He's the hero. I understand genre conventions."

Sam is standing beside me with his hands in his pockets, trying and failing to keep his face neutral.

I bump his arm. "Don't encourage them."

Before he can answer, Dom comes around the back of the limo and takes in the four people blocking the open door.

"Are we planning to get in?"

"Summer's committing fictional murder," I tell him.

Dom opens the door wider. "She can do it in the car."

That finally gets everybody moving.

Summer climbs in beside Colt so she can continue explaining why emotionally destroying her readers is part of the artistic process. Bex takes the seat near them, still arguing that some characters should be protected by popular vote.

Sam sits across from me.

While Colt tries to negotiate a stay of execution for a man who does not exist, I look at the tie I fixed less than an hour ago. It's still perfectly straight.

Sam catches me looking.

He doesn't say anything, but his eyes drop briefly to my dress before coming back to my face.