by Lauren Runow
“You guys ready?” Charisse asks.
I nod as Jake claps his hands together.
“Hell yes!”
I turn to him with a huge smile on my face from just seeing his excitement. He truly wants to do this, and I love how outgoing he is in every situation.
The song starts with Megan more speaking than singing before the beat drops, so I allow for them to be said, grinning over to Jake while the camera’s rolling so whoever sees the video gets that he’s my man and we’re about to do this.
When the song says, “I’m a savage,” I bust out, moving my body to the side like a snake, ending with a slight kick to my leg, like I’m tossing it to Jake.
Jake picks it right up and repeats the move, sending another one back to me. I easily repeat his move and bring my dance up a notch. His face cracks me up as he opens his mouth, trying to act all sexy as he slides his body through the motions. When he tosses it back to me, it’s with a kiss blown. I do his exact movement, including the blown kiss, and when I finish my move, it just so happens to be when the song talks about gagging, so I fake like I’m choking because I took him in too deep. It catches him so off guard that he cracks up.
Instead of repeating my dance moves, he swoops me up in his arms, kissing me like no one’s around or we aren’t filming this to share with the world.
When he pulls back, I hear Charisse and Melody high-five as Charisse says, “Yes! Absolutely post that shit!”
Chapter Twenty
We stayed up way too late last night, finishing off both bottles of wine as well as a few bottles of the hard cider Jake had bought the other day. My cheeks started hurting more than ever from the laughter we all shared. It really was the best night I’d had in a while.
When my phone rings this morning though, I have to remember just how much fun it was because my head is pounding into my skull, screaming at me at just how un-fun a hangover is.
“Hello?” I ask, trying not to strain my voice.
“Girl, you’d better get your butt out of bed because I—your wonderful, amazing agent—just so happen to be having brunch right now with Claudia Shea from Winston Arms. And, yes, I slyly slipped her your manuscript. She started reading it at the table just to appease me, but twenty minutes later, she’s still reading! I snuck away to the restroom to call you. If you can get your ass here quickly, we can make this deal happen for sure.”
I quickly sit up in bed as everything she said sinks in. “Shut up!” I exclaim and then grab my head, regretting my movement instantly.
Jake sits up, curious as to who I’m talking to. I cover the receiver, turn to Jake, and whisper, “It’s Wendy, my agent. She loved the pages I sent her!”
“Of course she did,” he says, grinning from ear to ear at my happiness.
“And now, she’s sitting with a big publisher at a café, and she wants me to meet her.”
“Um, who’s that, and how come I didn’t know you were seeing anyone?” Wendy asks.
I smile big. “That’s Jake.”
“Well, if he was any kind of muse for this book, I need to meet this new man of yours,” she says.
My eyes roam over to Jake. His expression proves he’s just as excited as I am, and he’s dying for me to fill him in on what she’s saying to me.
I give Jake a quick kiss and curl up in his arms. “You will,” I say to Wendy.
“Okay, well, tell your new boy toy sorry, but he has to wait because you need to come down to greet your new future! Can we say three-book deal?” Wendy sings into the phone.
“Really?” I cover my mouth with my hand.
“Girl, you knocked this last one out of the park. It’s so real, fresh. I loved every minute, and I shared it all with her. Now, get up, down some coffee to wipe away whatever hangover you’re dealing with, and get down to Lula Café to join us.”
“Wait. I can’t just happen to be walking by and see you. That’s so cliché.”
“Pfft. Yes, you totally can. This is how deals are made, my friend. Get here and in front of this woman’s face. She’s gonna love you and the ideas for the next series you have planned.”
“But I don’t have a next series planned.”
“You will by the time you get here. Now, let’s get you a deal.”
She hangs up, and I have to sit here for a second to absorb what she just said.
“Ahh!” I scream, not caring one bit how bad it hurts. Okay, well, I do care because it’s throbbing.
Jake chuckles under his breath as I grab my head. “You go shower while I get some Advil and water for you.”
I fall onto the bed and sigh. “I can’t believe she liked it so much!”
“Of course she did. I never doubted she would.” He flips me around in his arms, so I’m on top of him. I feel his length beneath me, and I instinctively grind into him. “We need to celebrate.”
I sigh as I push myself up. “Hold that thought. Celebratory sex will have to wait. Help yourself to any breakfast and grab my laptop to watch a movie or something. I’ll be back shortly.”
“Are you saying you want me naked, in your bed, waiting for you to come home?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
He grips my hips and holds me still. “Sex is definitely in the cards, but I was talking about a date. I want to take my girl out tonight. Maybe some drinks and dancing. A night where we get dressed up and hit the town.”
His smirk makes me want to stay home and forget meeting Wendy altogether.
I lean up to kiss his lips. “A date, huh?”
“A real one. Not the kind where one of us is trying to prove something to the other.”
With a grin on my face, I nod in acceptance. “Jake Moreau, I will absolutely go on a real date with you.” With a quick kiss, I get up and rush into the bathroom for a shower.
I get ready with rapid speed. Jake is still in the bed, wrapped up in my sheets, watching me with a grin on his face. On the nightstand is the Advil and water he promised would be there when I got out of the shower.
I pop the pills and drink the entire full glass. Then, I lean down to kiss him good-bye.
“Love you,” he says, and this time, I can’t ignore it.
I don’t know how to respond to that, but he’s staring at me with his eyes narrowing slightly as he looks at my puckered face.
He tilts his head with a soothing glance. “It’s okay, Lace. You don’t have to say it back.”
“It’s just … it’s sudden. We’ve only been dating for a few days. Seriously, like, one week really, and it feels so—”
“Sudden. Yes, I know.”
“Very. And you see … well, I just don’t think you love me as much as you lust for me.”
“Excuse me?” He sits up in bed fully.
“Great sex is often confused with love.”
His mouth pinches, and I know I hit a nerve with that one.
“I know what love is. The question is, do you?”
“I don’t do love, Jake.” My tone is entirely rude, but not on purpose. I care about this man deeply. “Shit. Sorry. This is not how I wanted to have this conversation and certainly not now when I’m rushing off to a really important meeting. Can we talk about this when I get back? Stay here. Or if you go home, I’ll knock, but please, let’s have this conversation later today.”
“Yeah.” He takes a deep breath. “Go. Good luck.”
I lean in to kiss him, and thankfully, he kisses me back, though it’s short and rushed.
“I won’t be long.”
I race out the door and down to my car. Once I know my phone is connected through the Bluetooth, I dial Charisse.
“I’m a horrible mom this morning, thanks to you,” she says as her hello.
“My agent loved the book, and she’s having brunch with someone from Winston Arms, so I’m rushing to meet them, but before I left, Jake said it again.”
“Whoa, wait. That’s a lot to take in after everything we drank last night. So, first, OMG! Cong
ratulations. That’s super exciting. I’m talking about Winston Arms and Jake being candid with his feelings.”
“Yes, but …”
“But what, Lacey? Stop pretending you don’t love him too. I was there last night. I saw the way you two looked at each other. It’s obvious that he loves you. Even if you hadn’t told me he said so, I would have thought it. Stop fighting this. You’re getting your dream career the same time you found your dream man. You need to sit back and enjoy life, not worry about what might or might not happen.”
I sit silently as I drive down the road. My mind is a mess with everything that’s going on. I’m so freaking happy yet so absolutely terrified that something has to go wrong because it’s all too good.
“Get out of your head,” Charisse says when I don’t say anything. “Let every single thing happen with Jake. And treasure it!”
I let out a deep exhale.
“Now, tell me about this publishing house,” she says like the Jake topic is solved and over with and it’s time to move on to the next.
The meeting went amazing even though I felt really awkward, just appearing to be in the same area. My acting skills were severely lacking. Thankfully, I was ushered into a seat, and the three of us discussed romance tropes and writing styles like we’d been in the same book club for years. A few Bloody Marys later—which were tremendous for getting rid of my hangover—we talked ideas for a book series I could write.
Between the three of us, we came up with a story line that was unique and filled a niche the publisher was looking for. I didn’t have a deal yet, so when Wendy started kicking my ankle under the table, I knew she wanted me to skedaddle, so she could start the negotiations groundwork.
On the way back to the apartment, I envision all the exciting things I’m going to do to Jake and what he’s going to do to me. For a lady who hasn’t had sex in years, I am certainly looking forward to trying some risqué maneuvers. The pretzel, the X-position, and the human wheelbarrow are at the top of my list. I’ve written about these sexy moves but never tried them. Now, I have a smokin’-hot man to experiment with.
When I arrive home, I notice my apartment is quiet. So much for him waiting in bed. I suppose it would be rude for me to expect him to stay there for three hours.
I rush over to his place, knocking on the door. There are no footsteps or movements on the other side. I knock again, and when it still goes unanswered, I head to the front of our apartment complex, where I can see out of the window to where he normally parks his car. He’s not here.
Bummed, I reach for my phone and click on his name. The phone rings until I get his voice mail. I leave him a playful message as I head to my couch, wondering if he left me a note or anything.
Five hours later, I still have no idea where he is. I could call the flower shop, but I don’t want to come off like a needy girlfriend. So, I’ll just wait.
And still …
Something doesn’t feel right. When I saw him this morning, he was sexy and sweet.
And he said he loved me.
I told him it was too soon, that it was only lust, and he seemed fine. He was fine, wasn’t he? Yes, he didn’t take too kindly to me assuming he didn’t know what love was. But who would? Some say it’s a feeling you get, but feelings are fleeting. People outgrow the way they think every day. Others believe love is physical. Both carnal and nurturing. In both cases, I can love a man as much as I love ice cream or a puppy. It’s all so easy to dismiss when the puppy is gone, the ice cream is eaten, and the man walks away.
Running my hands through my hair, I walk to my kitchen and grab a bottle of wine. I have no idea where he went, and I need to prepare myself for the truth that he might be second-guessing this whole thing.
Chapter Twenty-One
As I drink my coffee to try to make up for the sleep I didn’t get due to worrying about Jake all night, there’s a knock at my door.
I open it to see Jake looking no better than me on the other end. He’s still handsome, hair coiffed and his clothes looking straight out of a catalog, but those chocolate-brown eyes are glazed and tired.
Either he stayed up until the sun went down or he never came home. Yes, I checked multiple times last night—even as late as three o’clock in the morning—to see if his car was here, and it never was.
“Where have you been? I was worried,” I say, reaching my arms up to give him a hug.
As I hold him, his body feels looser than it usually does when I’m near him. It’s like he’s putting in very little effort.
As I step back from his arms, I see he’s carrying a large stack of printed papers.
“Can we talk?” he asks.
I invite him in without saying anything. He heads toward the kitchen, where he puts the stack of papers down and leans his hip against my counter. He crosses his arms as he inhales, still planning out his words. I give him the time to say what he needs to say as we stand in silence together.
“What is that?” I point to the papers.
“It’s The Artist.”
My eyes bug out of my head, as I didn’t expect him to have a copy of my book. “Where did you get that?”
“Charisse.”
I’m at a total loss for words. I knew he was going to read it eventually, but I didn’t tell him he was my muse. That said, I assumed when I did tell him, he’d get a huge kick out of it. I wasn’t prepared for him to show up here, looking so downhearted. He’s upset, but I still can’t figure out why.
He meets my eyes. Keeping his body language closed, he asks, “How come you freaked out when I told you how I felt about you?”
I tilt my head in confusion. Here I thought, this had to do with the book, but this is not what I figured he would ask first.
I close my eyes and make my way to the cupboard, reaching for a mug. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
He places his hand on mine, stopping my movements. “I don’t need coffee. I want an answer.” He picks up the book. “Is this how you feel? Obviously, I’m your hero, and this book is our entire relationship with everything we’ve done together, so I ask, is this how you feel about me?”
I bite on my thumb, and he pulls it out of my mouth, staring straight into my eyes, waiting for my answer.
“I don’t know yet,” I say under my breath as I turn away.
He moves around the counter to where I am and stands in front of me, making sure he’s my sole focus. “So, you’re saying I’m good enough to use to write a story, but I’m not good enough to be in love with?”
My shoulders fall as I tilt my head up to him. “That’s not what happened, and you know it.”
He raises his eyebrows, and he steps back to give me my space. “Explain it to me because it sounds like you took our entire relationship from the day we met and turned it into a love story.”
“I thought you’d be happy about that.” I place my hand on his chest, but it’s obvious my touch is not welcome, so I pull it back.
“You thought I’d be happy about the fact that you think our life was good enough for fiction, yet you’re not sure if you believe in what you write? Do you even like me, or was this just to get story ideas since you were suffering from writer’s block?”
“You know it wasn’t like that. I’m crazy about you.” I step toward him, but he puts his hands up, silently asking me to stay where I am.
“No, I don’t. I told you I was in love with you, and you freaked out.”
“You can’t love me. No one falls that fast. Besides, that’s not love; it’s lust and some fun jokes and great moments, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to last.”
“Bullshit.”
He steps closer, and I take in a sharp inhale.
“Excuse me?”
“You fell in love with me too.” He’s even closer now, and I can barely breathe, having him so near.
“You sound so sure,” I say under my breath as I reach for my cup to have some kind of security even if it’s false.
“You did, La
cey.” He places his fingers under my chin to turn my face back toward him. “You fell in love with me, and it’s right here in all two hundred and eight fucking pages. You think love doesn’t last? Well, even you gave us a damn epilogue, saying it did.”
“It’s fiction,” I yell as tears prick my eyes, mad that they’re appearing.
“It’s reality, and you’re scared. Admit it. You’re afraid of what this is. It’s love. It’s you and me, and it’s happening. Yes, couples fight. Yes, they probably even hate each other’s guts some days. But that’s the real world. Loving someone so damn much that you’ll weather through the storm is what I want. I’m willing to try that with you, but you’re not.”
“No, that’s not true.” I shake my head as I let everything he just said sink in. “You’re too much of a dreamer, Jake. You can’t even see that what we have is moving so fast. Too fast. I mean, who even says I love you this soon?”
“You do. It’s right here in your book.” He slaps his hand on the pages.
“Stop throwing my book in my face.”
“You don’t think you’re a walking hypocrite? You’re still on birth control, Lace. Why? And don’t give me some bullshit about how it regulates your period. You’re hiding behind the fact that you still care about meeting someone. Being intimate with someone.”
“Sex is not love.”
“It was for me. With you, it was love. I wasn’t even expecting for you to say it back. I knew you wouldn’t be able to. Not yet, anyway. Yet, you couldn’t even handle me expressing it. You can’t handle a man feeling love toward you.”
“I can only give you so much of me,” I say as tears fill my eyes. “Why can’t you be okay with what I’m willing to give?”
“You have no idea how cruel you are.”
I shake my head again as tears fall down my face. “Don’t say that—”
“You used me.”
“How can you say that? You wanted me to write about you. Let me be your muse. I’m the perfect book boyfriend. A total catch. You are so two-faced, you know that? You want me to write about you, and when I do, you flip. You wanted this. Admit it.”
