Going quiet on my audience as I lose all track of what I’m supposed to try and say once I see her again.
The lighting doesn’t help me any and I’m almost tempted to just go fish her out of the audience and show everyone just what the perfect girl looks like, and tell them all just how perfect she makes me feel.
Tell them to all stop wondering what I like because Nathan Cartwright has found his perfect match already.
In fact, it’s Lucy herself that’s giving me the idea to put an end to all my character’s loneliness for good.
My next book may well be my last, a true life happily ever after.
But I remember what Lucy said about the limelight, and having her photo taken.
She’s just private, maybe more so than I am, so no. I won’t talk about her publicly like that right now, not without her say so.
It’s hard for me to fight that reflex though, to go to her and hold her. To show her to the world.
I content myself by talking about the things I like most about her, without mentioning names or drawing attention to her, I hope she understands that everything I say right up until the end of my first talk is directed at her. Nobody else.
Chapter Thirteen
Lucy
I thought I dreamed the part where Nathan had to leave, but the effect of having his head between my thighs last night is that I’ve slept like I’ve never slept before.
Never felt so totally relaxed and unworried about everything in my whole life.
But once it registers he’s not by my side, and I feel his note in between my fingers, I almost dart awake.
Needing him again already, but contenting myself with his note, and the breakfast he’s already ordered for me which arrives not long after I’m fully awake and reading his note to me over and over again.
A handwritten note by the man himself, signed and left in my hand.
Why couldn’t I wake up? Why wouldn’t I wake up fully for him?
A pleasant little ache between my legs and whole body reminds me.
Probably about as close to a full body workout as I’ve ever had and it gives me another shiver at the thought of what I know he has in store for me next.
I’m hungrier than ever for the first time this early in the day and eat as much as I can because I know it’s from Nathan himself.
He’s so thoughtful, and it gives me a pang of guilt as I remember how I mumbled something about getting up to go with him, grabbing breakfast on the way.
He didn’t press the point and let me sleep in, but by the time I notice how late it is, it’s clear I’ll have missed most of his first speaking session at the convention.
There’s still the meet and greet, but I feel my lip curl in a satisfied grin once I tell myself for the hundredth time that I’ve had more meet and greet from Nathan Cartwright than anyone else that I’ve ever heard of.
I shouldn’t be so cocky, but something tells me what we shared last night isn’t just a once-off thing.
Laying back in our bed, full of food and fighting off the urge to go back to sleep, I spot his open laptop on the side table.
Mind your own business, Lucy. Check your own email and messages if you want something to-
Oops, too late.
I figure if we’ve already seen as much of each other as we have, what’s the harm in me closing his laptop for him. He might appreciate me taking it with me when I go to the conference.
He might not.
As I decide what the best thing to do is, I can’t help but notice the open document with a flashing cursor.
My instinct tells me it’s a book draft. A series of ideas and chapter intro’s that any author might type out when they’re working on a new project.
What I don’t expect to see is a graphic description of what a certain male character has planned for a certain female character.
I blush as I read the explicit details, my hands trembling by the time I realize Nathan’s described me perfectly (or imperfectly), as well as making it clear just how he intends to have me do as a lead character in his next book, falling madly in love with his hero from his books, but after that, the scene goes cold.
Obviously, the part where I interrupted him late last night.
Right before I figure I’ve intruded far enough and am about to close his laptop, I scroll to the next page by accident and read the highlighted note he’s left for himself:
Female lead can be generic blond(?) Nothing like Lucy.
I feel my heart sink, followed by my stomach. Almost feeling like I’m gonna lose the breakfast I just ate.