Something quivers inside of me at her words, the recognition of them slamming into me.
“I know the feeling,” I murmur, remembering the dark days after my parents’ deaths. “Okay, we’ll pack the books and send somebody by to collect the rest. Or I’ll buy you a whole new wardrobe.”
“Really? You’d do that?”
“I’d do anything you for,” I growl, sudden passion flaring beneath my words.
Our eyes meet and then we both laugh, and we don’t have to discuss why we’re laughing. We both know, wordlessly, we know because we’re fused in a way neither of us can explain. And we should be able to explain, considering the fact that we’re both writers. We laugh because this is mad and yet it feels so right, too.
“I would, too,” she says once the laughter has passed. “For you, I mean. How crazy is that?”
“Fucking crazy,” I growl. “Now let’s hurry the hell up so I can get you someplace private.”
She nods and we begin transferring the books, together.
I pause when I see a copy of my first novel, Promenade in the Rain, clearly well loved with how often it’s been read.
“Sue me, I’m a fan,” she says, seeing my look. “I’ve got all your other books, too. One is hardcopy and the rest are on my Kindle. You’re an incredible writer, Tanner. But obviously, you don’t need me to tell you that.”
“The apartment,” I mutter after a pause, the sight of that well loved book triggering something inside of me. “You asked why I’ve got a second apartment.”
“Yes …”
“The truth is I bought it as a way to try and overcome my writer’s block. A separate place, a sanctuary away from where I spend my regular life. But it didn’t work. Nothing works.”
She places a hand on my shoulder, giving it a supportive squeeze.
“You’ll write again, Tanner,” she whispers. “I know you will.”
For the first time in over two years, I believe it, I believe I actually might.
Why?
The answer hits me with sudden certainty.
Because I’ve never had Tess with me before.Chapter ElevenTess“Isn’t this place just crazy?” Kaitlyn says, standing at the window in a silky purple bathrobe, gaping down at the city laid out before us.
The midday sun hangs like a shiny penny in the sky, glowing down warmly and causing the entire city to glitter and wink.
The whole apartment is amazing, sleek, looking more like a show home than a real living space, which makes sense considering that Tanner was only going to use this place as a writing sanctuary. Still, it’s incredible, my bedroom a large room with a ginormous bed and an ensuite straight out of a science fiction flick. The kitchen is dominated by an obsidian island and the floor to ceiling windows let in glorious swathes of light.
I smile along with her, my hands absentmindedly stroking Gizmo as I sit at my place at the bar. But I can’t help but feel a pang when I think about walking in here with Tanner’s hand on the small of my back, the tingling implication that we’d fall upon each other the moment we were alone …
Only to find that Kaitlyn had beaten us here.
Still, what was I supposed to do, tell her to get lost, me and Tanner wanted to smooch? After the day she’s had?
Anyway, there’s a silver lining here—I don’t have to embarrass myself by going any further with Tanner.
Because no matter what he says, I’ve got no idea what I’m doing, and even if he’s right, even if the kiss did feel natural, who’s to say that the rest of it will?
A shiver moves through me when I think about his face warping into disappointment, or him telling me that he doesn’t want me anymore, or…
Stop. Freaking. Catastrophizing.
“Tess?” Kaitlyn says, turning to me and walking over with dainty elf like steps.
There’s another silver lining to Kaitlyn interrupting us, too, and that’s that Tanner didn’t gape at her, not once. Usually, whenever Kaitlyn and I are in a room together, it’s my thin, drop dead gorgeous friend who gets all the attention. But Tanner just calmly introduced himself, his eyes flicking to me every few moments, devouring every inch of me with his sultry gaze.
“Yes?” I say, snapping myself from this overthinking rut.
“Your lover man will be back later. He said so himself.”
I glare at her, but I can’t keep the smile from touching my lips. “Let’s not make this about me,” I say. “You’ve got enough to deal with without heaping all of that on yourself, too.”
“I knew it,” she sings, pulling up a chair at the sleek kitchen bar.
“Knew what?” I say, my cheeks flushing, my neck following suit.
“You didn’t deny that that tall slice of hunk was your man. So is he? I want all the juicy details. I can’t believe it. You and Tanner Telford.”