UnWritten

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “Can I ask a question now?” he said.

  “Sure.”

  “Where is the most unusual place you’ve had sex?”

  That was a question I could answer right away.

  “That happened when I was sixteen. Coldplay concert. Different guy.” It had sounded badass at the time. I’d bragged to all my friends. It had also involved sneaking out of my house, but my parents had never found out about that one. My fear of their wrath was too great to test, so I’d been stealthy.

  “You mean at the concert? Didn’t people see you?”

  I laughed.

  “I wore a skirt and no underwear. He just came up behind me and did it while everyone was dancing. I’m not saying it was the greatest sex of my life, but it happened. Actually, it was pretty bad, to be honest. He didn’t use anything so I had to clean myself up in the bathroom. No fun.” I shuddered at the memory.

  “I can imagine it wouldn’t be.”

  “Okay, your turn,” I said, reminding him.

  He answered right away.

  “The opera. In the bathroom.”

  “Shut up.” His was so much classier than mine.

  “No, it’s true. My father would be very displeased if he knew about that one. So I don’t tell him.” I winked.

  “Your secret is safe from me. What opera was it?”

  He thought about that for a moment.

  “La Boheme. Why?”

  “No reason. Just curious.”

  We moved away from the talk of sex to embarrassing moments and then to random topics. We had so much to say, neither of us could talk fast enough. He was also so funny and self-deprecating it had me in stiches.

  We talked for so long we got hungry again.

  “Would it be a crazy idea to order lunch right now?” he said and I planted a kiss smack on his lips.

  “I love that you think about food as much as I do.” He didn’t look it, but he had a male metabolism.

  We got out the menu and then he called in the order.

  “Be right back,” he said, heading to the bathroom.

  “I’ll keep your spot warm,” I said, rolling to where he’d been lying. After he closed the door, I turned on the television to see if there were any good movies on. Thankfully the hotel had a classic movie channel and Gone with the Wind was just starting. I couldn’t have planned it any better. I just hoped he’d want to watch it with me. This movie was a huge time commitment.

  “Gone with the Wind?” he said as he walked back into the bedroom.

  “Yup. Have you seen it?” I rolled back to my spot, making room for him as he climbed under the sheets.

  “Of course. Who hasn’t?”

  “Lots of people. Do you mind if we watch it?”

  “Not at all. It’s a damn good film. As the saying goes, they don’t make them like this anymore.” No, they didn’t. I snuggled into Declan as the music built and then the movie opened on Tara.

  “My Gran hated this movie. She said it made southerners look bad,” I said as Scarlett flirted with the Tarleton twins. “I didn’t even bother telling her a lot of southerners did that all on their own.”

  “I’d say movies do the same to British people, but the portrayal of us as chronically polite tea drinkers is fairly accurate. Not across the board, of course. But there is something about a cup of tea.”

  “Yeah, but coffee,” I said with a dreamy sigh.

  “Have we found something we disagree on?”

  I sat up and looked at him.

  “I think so. Well, I guess this is over. I can never be with someone who likes tea over coffee.” I turned my back to him and pretended to cry.

  “No. That will not stand. I won’t let a hot beverage come between us,” he said, pulling me back around and then getting on top of me, pinning me to the bed.

  “Then convince me tea is better than coffee.” He circled his hips, stroking me.

  “I have a few ways to convince you.”

  “Oh yeah? I think you need to show me, not tell me.” He growled at me and pinned my wrists above my head.

  And of course there was a knock at the door with our room service.

  Declan looked down, and he was definitely in a compromised position.

  “If you want to let me up, I can put on my robe and get that.”

  He moved off me and I donned my robe and let the waiter in. He wheeled the tray into the room and offered to take the other one without batting an eyelash at shirtless Declan. He’d probably seen a whole lot worse and a whole lot more naked.

  “This is one of life’s greatest decisions. Food or sex?” I said after the waiter had left.

  “Well, some people have both at the same time.” I made a face.

  “Ew. I’m adventurous when it comes to sex, but I’m not that adventurous. If we don’t eat it now, then it will get cold and then it won’t be as satisfying.” I uncovered my French onion soup and cobb salad.

  “Food first,” Declan agreed, going for his shrimp skewers and Caesar salad. We ate and watched Scarlett O’Hara go to the ball at Twelve Oaks and fight with Rhett Butler and moon over Ashley Wilkes.

  “I never quite understood what it was that she saw in Ashley,” Declan said.

  “Me neither. He was a whiny bastard. And he emotionally cheated on his wife. I mean, she was literally a saint and he still kissed Scarlett. Dick move.”

  But that was the point, I guessed. That Scarlett had been in love with someone she could never have, and the one person who loved her, she didn’t realize she wanted until it was too late. Such was life.

  “So am I an Ashley? Or a Rhett?” Declan said.

  “Like you even have to ask. You have rogue written all over you.” He had heartbreaker written on him too, but I didn’t say that.

  “But I don’t have any facial hair. Isn’t that a requirement?” I rubbed his chin. He barely had any stubble. Like the hair on his face didn’t grow or something.

  “No, you can be a rogue without facial hair. Definitely.”

  We finished our lunch and watched the rest of the movie.

  “I should probably get home to Drake,” he said, glancing at the clock.

  “You should. But first,” I said, climbing over him and moving down so my head was level with his waist. “I’m going to give you something to take home with you. Something to think of when you’re not with me.” I kissed his navel and then moved lower.

  “I couldn’t forget you if I wanted to. Never. Ever.” The last word ended in a moan as my lips closed over him. Oh, I’d make sure he wouldn’t.

  “Ugh, you’re all smug cuz you got laid,” Raine said when I walked into the apartment. My hair was still funky, so I’d slicked it back into a bun.

  “Or maybe it was because I had an amazing meal last night. Have you ever had duck?” She made a face at me.

  “Duck? Where the hell did he take you?”

  “Fancy hotel. Hey, I didn’t ask him to.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Yeah, yeah. You know I’m just giving you a hard time because I like to give you a hard time. Was it nice to get away for a little while?”

  “Yes,” I said, lying on the couch. I missed Declan already and he’d only just driven away. “It was nice.”

  I gave Raine a rundown of what we’d been up to and she listened in rapt attention.

  “Damn. Does he have any cousins? Youngish male relatives?”

  “Why? So you can seduce them?”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  “Are you saying I couldn’t?” No, I knew she definitely could, when she turned it on.

  “You know I’m not. Anyway, he doesn’t. That I know of. In fact, you probably know more than I do.” I still hadn’t told Declan about the dossier, and under the circumstances, it seemed minor in comparison to everything else.

  She snapped her fingers and jumped up.

  “That’s because I only looked for immediate relatives. I didn’t widen my scope.” Her fingers flew across her laptop and I bounced to my feet. />
  “Raine, you have got to stop thinking it’s okay to look this stuff up. Declan is off limits. Understand?” She pouted, but stopped typing.

  “I wasn’t going to pry. God, you’re so paranoid.”

  “Can you blame me?”

  “I guess not.”

  I went back to the couch. “Exactly.”

  Monday found me back at the new temporary library space. Over the weekend it had transformed. Granted, the floor was covered in cheap carpet, and the shelves were creaky and metal, but there were books. Books everywhere. And someone had donated art and posters for the walls. There was a new reading nook with beanbags and a child-sized table with plastic chairs.

  “Well, it’s good enough for now,” Madeline said, walking around and surveying everything. “We had a lot more volunteers show up than we anticipated and you should see the second floor.” She led me up and showed me the boxes of donated books they hadn’t had time to put out yet.

  “I don’t think we can set up here, even though there’s an elevator. If we do that then we won’t have any storage, or any break room or offices. It’s a sacrifice, but I think it’s the best decision. What do you think?” She was right, as always. Madeline never made a half-assed decision. Ever. Her mind was always at work, thinking of potential scenarios and problems.

  “I think you’re right. The lighting isn’t that great up here either and there are only a few windows.” Honestly, the place was gloomy. Not as nice as the downstairs with the windows that faced the street and out the back.

  “Good. Good.” We went back downstairs and she started inspecting everything again.

  “Where’s everyone else?” I asked. Madeline and I were the only ones here. The space felt empty without the other employees and definitely without patrons in it.

  “Oh, they’re not coming in until this afternoon. We’re having a staff meeting. The volunteers are coming too. We’re going to have to make some hard decisions.” That didn’t sound good. Not good at all.

  “Can I ask what kind of decisions we’re talking here?” I could assume, but I wanted to know for sure.

  She blew out a breath. “Staffing cuts, for now. There just isn’t enough space or enough work for everyone. And the insurance company is totally dragging its feet on getting the claim started and processed so we can get paid and begin looking at repairs. Real pain in the derriere.” Madeline never swore. In fact, that was the closest I’d ever heard her get to cursing.

  “Anyway, you don’t have to worry about any of that. But I’m only going to need one children’s librarian right now, since the area is so small. We’re still going to do story hour, but it’s definitely going to be a smaller group.” I could sense where this was headed and I didn’t like it, but I cut her off before she could say it.

  “It’s okay. I know Sabrina has been working here longer than I have. I’ve got other things to do with my time,” I said.

  Madeline breathed a sigh of relief that I’d caught on so quickly.

  “It’s nothing personal and you’ll still get paid the amount you’ve been getting. At least we don’t have to worry about that.” Seriously. I couldn’t imagine if we weren’t getting paid. Not that I didn’t have writing and now that money from Gran to fall back on. Ugh. I got a sick feeling in my stomach every time I thought about that money. I wished she’d never left it to me. The jewelry was different. That I could hold in my hand and it would make me think of her. I had good memories associated with it. Money? Not so much.

  “I can still come and do story hour if you need me to. Or if Sabrina can’t do a day for whatever reason. I know this hasn’t been easy for you. I’m not mad. It is what it is,” I said and Madeline gave me a hug.

  “It’s been a rough few weeks. But we’ll get there in the end. I wish Time Turners were real and we could just move forward to when this is all finished.” Me too.

  I gave her another hug and she asked if I wanted to get an early lunch. I agreed and we walked down the street to the sandwich shop.

  “How’s everything going with you? Other than the fire, obviously,” I said as we ate. She told me about her youngest son, who was in high school and up to normal youthful shenanigans.

  “His latest thing is that he wants a tattoo. I told him that no tattoo artist is going to touch a sixteen-year-old, but he’s determined. So I agreed to take him when he turns eighteen, God help me.” I smiled at the conversation topic.

  “Maybe if my mother had done that I wouldn’t have so much ink,” I said, glancing down at my arms. “Or maybe not. I think I only did my first one to piss her off. The rest were for me.”

  “And yours are beautiful and meaningful. I’m just petrified he’s going to get some sports team logo on his back.” We both shuddered at the thought.

  “Well, if you want me to give him a tattoo-talking-to,” we both laughed at my bad pun, “I’d be more than happy,” I said.

  “Oh, that is so sweet of you. I might have to take you up on that.” We finished our lunch and she gave me another hug. I missed her and I missed everyone else from the library. I’d gone from seeing dozens of people every day to mostly only seeing Raine and food delivery people. And Declan. Oh, Declan.

  “One thing I have to ask before you go. I’m not one to believe gossip, but I’ve heard that you’ve been seeing that British fellow with the little boy. Any truth to those rumors?” Of course she’d heard about it. Sabrina had been blabbing it everywhere. Not that I minded that much, and I hadn’t told her not to share it with anyone.

  “Yes. I am seeing him.”

  Madeline raised a knowing eyebrow.

  “You know, your voice changed when you said that. Got all soft and dreamy. You must really like him.” My voice had not changed. Had it? I’d have to ask Raine about that when I got back. No one had ever mentioned it to me before.

  “Oh. Well. Yes. I like him very much.”

  Madeline just nodded and said that she’d see me soon.

  “Oh, and thank you for being so understanding. I really appreciate it.” She waved as she walked to her car.

  “Question,” I said when I walked in the front door after having lunch with Madeline, “does my voice change when I talk about Declan?” Raine looked up from her laptop, her eyes unfocused.

  “Wait, what? Can you repeat that? Sorry, I was just reading this email from Hugh. Our edit letter came back.” Shit, that was much more important than whether my voice changed when I talked about Declan.

  I rushed over to her.

  “And you’re reading it without me?”

  “Calm your tits, I just opened it up to see what it was. I haven’t even read the first line. Besides, the letter is in a Word doc and it’s attached. See? Haven’t opened it yet.” She was telling the truth, but I ignored her as I skimmed the words from Hugh. It was quick and dirty. The publishers loved the concept, but there were some changes they wanted to make to the plot. There always were, but the amount of changes and how extensive they were would determine how much Raine and I would freak out and to what level. Extensive rewrites would probably send us into tears for a little while.

  “Crap. It doesn’t sound good,” I said.

  “We won’t know until we open it,” Raine said, looking over her shoulder at me. “Want me to do it?” She held out her hand and I held it as she clicked on the document and opened it.

  “Oh dear jeebus fuck,” Raine said and I had no words. Ten pages. Ten. Fucking. Pages. Of. Edits. And these were just preliminary. We still had galley copies to go through and then copy edits. This was just the beginning.

  I jumped as Raine slammed the laptop shut.

  “No. We can’t do this without booze.” She dashed to the cabinet where we kept our alcohol and pulled out a bottle of scotch I didn’t even know was in there.

  “I’ve been hiding this in the back for an emergency. I think this qualifies.” She unscrewed the top and poured us both shots. “Down the hatch.” I took mine and we both threw them back and slammed our empty
glasses on the counter.

  Sure, it was barely noon and we were drinking, but we were writers. It was part of the job. Writers and booze were like cops and donuts.

  I belatedly coughed from the effect of the alcohol and Raine’s eyes watered. We didn’t drink hard stuff very much.

  “Okay, now we can look,” she said, but brought the bottle and the empty shot glasses with us.

  I pulled my office chair around and we sat and skimmed the letter. It was pretty bad. Our heroine wasn’t likable, our hero had stalker tendencies, and we’d taken some of the sex scenes too far. There were also a few little inconsistencies (as were to be expected in a first draft), but they pretty much tore us apart. It. Was. Awful.

  “Shot time,” Raine said when we finally got to the end.

  We each took another shot and Raine shut the laptop so we didn’t have to see it any more.

  “They hate it,” she said, and I could tell she was holding tears back. Sure, we’d done this before, but edit letters like this never got easier. We worked so hard and it was like all they could see were flaws and problems and things to fix. Plus, the time it was going to take to fix those problems? I didn’t even want to think about it.

  They’d given us a deadline of two weeks for a corrected draft. That was actually one of the longest we’d gotten. Once, it had been less than a week.

  “You should tell them about your grandmother. Might buy us some more time. There’s no way we can tear this thing apart in two weeks. And you shouldn’t have to deal with this shit right now,” Raine said, flopping back on the couch and closing her eyes.

  “I don’t want to use that as an excuse. There are people who have major health problems who still meet deadlines. I’m not going to be working at the library for a while because they don’t need me, so with both of us full-time? We can do it. And don’t worry about me. I need something to help me stay busy.” Sitting around and wallowing about Gran wasn’t going to do anyone any good. I had this fear that if I did sit around and think about her, and how I was never going to see her again, the tears would come, and then I’d never be able to stop them. I’d told Declan I didn’t think I was going through the levels of grief, but the truth was, I didn’t want to. I couldn’t handle it.