“Lemme see this long WIP, then.”
Ro cuddles up to me again as I click on Michael’s latest post. I know that she’s into this stuff, but she pretends not to be. She’s way too focused on the words she’s reading to not be interested, but she tries to hide her inner freak a little too hard. The WIP is the first page of Michael’s newest book. His last one was called Into Your Eyes, and it’s easily the best thing I’ve ever read. It became my favorite book the second I finished it. It’s about a woman who escapes a bad relationship and ends up meeting the man of her dreams. But it’s more than that. It’s more than just another forgettable romance novel. The main character is an empowered woman, someone who finds herself along the journey that she goes through in the book. She’s someone I admire, as corny as that may sound.
I was surprised to see this post because since then Michael hasn’t been on social media as much as he used to be. This many months without much activity is rare for an indie author. I’m not a stalker or anything, I’m just a real fan of his work, and I love following authors and seeing what they’re working on.
As crazy as it sounds, I probably read twenty books a month, sometimes even more if I have a lot of free time. Romance is escapism, fantasy, something to take me out of my life and give me something to look forward to reading each night. Some people binge Netflix shows for entertainment. My version of that is scrolling through an entire five book series in a week on my Kindle. I devour them, and I’m insatiable.
My other best friend, Harley, is just like me. Scratch that, she’s way worse than me. That girl can tear through two books a night if she’s into an author, and she’s into a lot of them. And she has no qualms about telling everyone she knows that she loves a good piece of smut now and then. Me? I’m a little more selective, and I’m a little more secretive. I feel like people can be really judgmental, and the last thing I need judged is my choice of reading materials. So I mostly keep my love of all things romance to myself, my girls, and my indie book community that I talk to on social media. Ro is the most conservative one of our little group, but low key I think she’s the biggest freak.
“Wow,” she says a few seconds later as she reaches over my arm and hits the down arrow to see the next part of Michael’s WIP.
“What?” I ask. “I didn’t get to read it yet since you were hogging the screen. Is it good?”
“It’s not just good. It’s. . .it’s fucking hot! Holy shit. And I wasn’t hogging. Who’s this guy again?”
“Michael,” I tell her. “That’s Michael Knight. I read all of his books like a month after I discovered him on Facebook. They’re really good. He knows how to write a sex scene, let me tell you.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” she answers. “I’m reading right now. I’m getting all hot and bothered.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. That’s what a good romance does. Good story, funny characters, and hot fucking sex that makes you all. . .tingly.”
“I see that. How do you just read this in a room by yourself and not wanna reenact every page?”
“Listen to you,” I joke, seeing the intensity in her face as she stares at my screen. “I think you might need to pick up a good book to read. I know a few great authors.”
“I’m not paying for this stuff. Do you have any actual books I can check out?”
“I have a few paperbacks, but I’m not giving them to you.”
“What?” she asks, looking away from the screen finally. “How come?”
“’Cause they’re signed copies, and those are just for the bookshelf. I don’t actually read those. Just bite the bullet and splurge $2.99 and get one. No one will be able to see, don’t worry. You can read it on your phone or tablet and I can make some good recommendations if you tell me what you’d like.”
“All right,” she says. “I think I might have to. And how do I know what I like if I’ve never read it?”
“Well, what kind of stuff would get you reaching for the vibrator?”
“Everleigh!”
“Stop, don’t pretend to be such a prude. I bought it for you, so I know you own one. Unless you threw it out.”
“Of course I didn’t throw it out,” she says. “And you could have really warned me that was in the box when we were all opening my birthday gifts in front of my family.”
“What fun would that have been?” I laugh. “I know how conservative your parents are. I wish I could have taken a picture of their faces. I don’t even think your mom knew what it was. Unless she’s like you and just pretending to be a prude.”
“She’s not pretending, trust me. And I told her it was a shoulder massager from Sharper Image.”
I start laughing hysterically. “And she bought that?”
“Yeah. Or at least she pretended to so the situation wouldn’t be awkward. I’m fine with whichever one of those it was.”
Rowan smiles ear to ear, and I start to giggle. “Glad to have you join our little romance sisterhood. Harley and I were starting to feel like the weirdos.”
“You are the weirdos,” she says. “But maybe I wanna be one, too. To answer your question, I guess just give me something not too out there. One of your top ten favorites.”
“That’s easy. And here.” I say, handing her my laptop. “You might as well finish what you were reading.”
“Okay,” she jokes. “If you insist.”
As I put my computer on her lap my phone goes off. Jeremey likes when I leave the ringer on because he says it’s easier to get to me. I don’t know why I listen to him, but he gets annoyed when I don’t answer his calls or texts right away. “I’ll be right back.” Ro’s not even paying attention as I get up and step outside. She’s falling quickly down the romance rabbit hole and I love every minute of it. “Hey,” I say. He already sounds angry. “I answered as fast as I could, relax. Rowan and I are just out getting coffee, like we always do.”
He does his usual thing. He tells me I’m not a good girlfriend. Tells me that I make him feel like I don’t love him. Tells me he doesn’t know what he’s doing wasting his time with an ungrateful girl like me. I don’t know why I even listen. I’ve been listening to his bullshit for too long. He used to be a totally different man when I met him, but once we were in a real relationship he changed into this guy. The needy, clingy, verbally abusive person I hear every time I bother to answer the phone. I think that’s the first time I’ve let myself think of that word when I think of him, but I know it’s the right one. He’s abusive. He’s never touched me or anything like that, but there are different types of abusive, and his weapon is his mouth.
“Listen, listen, you need to calm down. I answered as soon as I could and. . .” He goes on some more, his voice raising past where it should to the point that I need to hold the phone away from my ear. Somewhere in his rant something changes in me. I don’t know what it is, but, something about his tone just gets to me. I can see Rowan inside. She knows that Jeremy can be kind of an asshole. She’s finished reading and put my computer down. She’s looking at me like a concerned mom would look at her kid after they fell on the playground. My face is tense, I can feel it. She stands up to come outside and I put my finger up to tell her to stay and she sits back down. But she never takes her eyes off of me. I love that she wants to take care of me, but today I don’t need her to.
I don’t know what comes over me, but I don’t scream or yell, I just pull my phone away from my ear and hang up. I’m done taking his shit, and I’m not going to be told that I’m a bad person any more. I never should have listened to that man. I put my phone on silent before going back inside because I know he’s going to call back and probably text me a million times, but I don’t have time for this shit. I walk back inside, pushing through the lunch crowd, and sit back down.
“What was that?” Ro asks. She still looks concerned, but I try to put her at ease right away.
“Usual bullshit,” I tell her.
“Jeremey?”
“Yeah, who else?”
“I know,” I say, cutting her off before she makes the speech that she’s made to me a thousand times before. “I think we’re done.”
“Wait,” she says, looking surprised that I’m agreeing with her instead of defending him for once. “Like, done done? You’re leaving him?”
I think about it for a second. Hearing those words makes it seem a little more real than just hanging up my phone because I was sick of what he was saying. But the thought of breaking up with him doesn’t upset me at all, and that tells me that it’s probably the right move. “Yeah,” I say, looking her square in the eye. “I’m leaving him. I’ve had enough.”
This seems like it’s coming out of nowhere, I realize. But far from it. This has been building up for months, and sometimes things just happen that way. A long build up and then a spark that sets off the explosion. For me, that phone call was the spark.
“Does he know?” Ro asks. “Did you tell him that?”
“No,” I tell her. “But he’ll find out soon enough. He’s away on a business trip for a few days. Do you wanna come help me get my stuff from his place?”
“That’s the best question I think you’ve ever asked me.” She leans over and gives me a big hug. A best friend hug. A hug like she’s proud of me. Hell, I’m proud of myself. I don’t need him, and I know for sure that he doesn’t deserve me. “I’d love to,” she continues. “But can I ask what changed?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been telling you to leave that jerk for months now, and Harley’s been telling you to leave for longer than I have. So what changed in a thirty second phone call? Did he say something?”
“No,” I tell her. “Nothing I haven’t heard a million times.”
“Then what?”
“If I tell you, you’re going to either think I’m joking or think I’m stupid. Either way it’s a lose-lose.”
“Everleigh, you know the last thing I think you are is stupid. I don’t care what you say right now, I’m proud of you for what you did outside, whatever your inspiration was.”
“It was one of Michael’s books, okay?” I feel dumb saying it, but it’s true. I look down like I’m embarrassed, but then look right back up. “His last one.”
Ro smiles at me. “Why would you think I’d judge you for that?”
“Come on, I know you think I’m just reading stupid books that are basically soft-core porn.”
“First, it doesn’t matter what I think about what you read. And I’m about to have some of that soft-core porn on my phone, so who am I to judge? I’m your best friend and I just want you to be happy, no matter what. If this book helps you, that’s all that matters.”
I give her a hug this time. “Thank you, you’re the best.” I squeeze her tight. I really am happy that her and Harley are in my life. I don’t know what I’d do without them.
“So what’s that book about, anyhow?”
“Into Your Eyes?”
“Yeah. If that’s the one that made you brave.”
“What isn’t it about?” I start to gush inside just thinking about it. “I love that book. And I’m not just using that word in the way I say that I love strawberry ice cream. I really do LOVE that book!”
“Wow,” Ro says, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t love many things more than you love strawberry ice cream.”
“I know,” I joke. “Not only did it make me cry when I read it, but it taught me something. The main character is this woman who’s stuck in one bad relationship after another-”
“Sounds familiar already,” she interrupts.
“Tell me about it. Anyway, this woman finally finds her voice and builds the courage to leave her abusive husband. Jeremey’s not as bad as the guy in the book, but it’s not about the guys, it’s about the strength and courage that the woman showed. It inspired me. For some reason that story popped into my head when he was berating me on the phone before. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Courage,” Ro says. “Courage came over you. And good for you. Jeremey’s a fucking tool, and you deserve better. A lot better.”
Ro’s the best. Between her and Harley I have the two greatest friends a girl could ever ask for. They’re there for me and I’m there for them, through thick and thin, no matter what. And it’s moments like this that make me appreciate them even more.
“This is going to sound corny,” I say, looking down again because that’s what I do when I think what I’m saying is stupid but I want to say it anyhow. “But I wish. . .”
“What?” she asks after I stop mid-sentence.
“I wish that I could tell Michael how much his words mean to me. I mean, like, in person, not just in some corny social media post.”
“Well, funny you should say that.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“How do I know about this and you don’t?” she answers.
“Know about what? What are you talking about?”
“I have been monopolizing your computer, so I get it, but look at what he just posted.”
“Lemme see.” Ro hands me my computer back and I open it up to take a look. “Holy shit!” I hardly believe what I’m reading as I look down. It’s a post by Michael, and there are two other writers tagged in it—Grayson Blackman and Colton Chase, two of my other favorite authors, only I don’t love their stuff nearly as much as Michael’s.
***ANNOUNCEMENT***
Colton, Grayson and I are pleased to announce that we’re joining forces and forming our own all male romance and erotica readers group—The Wordsmiths! Now you can still belong to all of our individual reader groups, but we’d really love if you could all join our newly formed group as well. And we’ll be hosting a signing this summer for just our readers. Details and dates TBA.
I can hardly believe my eyes as I read. “I’m joining, hold on. You join too. We can say that we were some of the first members of their group when they’re famous.”
“You’re nuts,” Ro says to me, but I see her pulling out her phone to join up. “But why not, right?”
“Don’t hate,” I tell her. “Just give into it a little. You like this stuff.”
“How can I like it when I’ve never read it?”
“Okay,” I say, conceding her point. “Maybe you don’t like it, but you sure don’t hate it either. I think you’re fascinated by all of it.”
“I find it interesting, sure.”
I’ve known Rowan long enough to read her. She’s been hesitant ever since college. Secretly she’s a freak, but in the open she still feels like she has to put on this front of the good girl—the chaste one—the one who has to resist all things sexual for everyone else’s benefit. But I know my best friends, both of them. Harley’s a whole different type of puzzle, but Rowan is easy. She was raised to be the prude, but she’s really a closet sex kitten. My job is just to help her self-actualize and let go once in a while. “It is interesting,” I say. “You should join up. It’s not some fringe thing. Look, they probably have 10,000 people between their three groups. That’s a lot of people. You’d just be one more.”
“Have I ever told you how convincing you can be sometimes?”
“You don’t have to tell me, I know already.” I’m smiling, but it isn’t because I won our little exchange, it’s because I’m happy to see her let go a little bit. Plus now both of my best friends will be smut readers like me. Yay. “Wait, there’s more.” We both look down and see that there’s another post in our notifications. I click on it.
“I want to go to this event. I want all of us to go. You, me and Harley together.”
“An event?” Ro asks. “What are those, exactly?”
“Like a signing,” I explain. “You go there, they sign books, we all take some pictures. Like a meet and greet, get it?”
“Ahh, now it makes sense.”
“We’re going. All three of us.”
“Fine,” she s
ays right after I’m done. I’m all ready to make a speech about how I need her to come and support my unhealthy smut habit, but then she just gives in before I can make it.
“Oh,” I say. “That was easier than I thought.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes I can be a surprise.”
“You sure can.”
I’m beyond excited to get tickets to this event. Maybe it’s dumb. Maybe there’s a fine line between being a loyal reader and being a straight up groupie. I hope I fall into the first category and not the second, but the fact of the matter is that my heart beats a little faster at the idea of getting to meet Michael. He’s not just an author whose books I like—he’s someone whose words speak to me in ways no words have before. People hate on the type of books that he writes, as if nothing meaningful can exist in a book that has sex in it. But I know the truth.
Michael can move emotions like the wind can move grains of sand. There seems to be no effort in their power, and even though I’m not crazy and the book is not written for me, Into Your Eyes made me feel like he could see inside me, and it changed the way that I see myself. It might sound dumb to be changed by a romance novel, but I was inspired by the main character in that book. I always loved his writing, but the story of that one hit close to home. I can’t wait to meet him and tell him everything that it’s meant to me.
On top of that he’s really, really hot. That shouldn’t matter, right? His words should be enough—and they are—they’re more than enough, but it doesn’t hurt that the man looks like he’s never missed a session at the gym, is over six feet tall, and is just a beautiful man. Yeah. . .that doesn’t hurt at all.
I can’t wait to have him sign my books.
But, really, I can’t wait to just stand in front of him and look up into those beautiful eyes.
4
Knight
Present Day
“This place is sick!”
For such a good writer, Grayson doesn’t always have the most eloquent vocabulary, but he’s absolutely right in this. The place is sick. We just spent a little over four hours driving from New York to Pennsylvania, and as soon as we got close to the place I knew the guys were right in suggesting this whole thing to me. The truth is that when I first heard the idea I was a little skeptical, even though I jumped on board right away. I didn’t want to be the one who said no, but I definitely had my reservations. It sounded cool enough in theory, and I certainly wasn’t against the idea of a signing for just us, but I had my doubts as to whether or not it would make a difference for any of our careers. Seeing this place now has me thinking that maybe it will.
Knight: The Wordsmiths Book One Page 4
