by M. E. Carter
The downsides haven’t changed though. There have always been the typical offerings: parties, women, drugs, and living life a little wilder than most. I never found myself too far into any of those situations. That has mostly been attributed to my extreme dislike of publicity, fame, and all the brown-nosing and kissing up that comes with that. Sure, I have a few sponsorships that require me to do some publicity and work with photographers, and Freddy is always up my ass for some red-carpet event, but social media, interviews, and public speaking are low on my list of priorities.
Watching Adeline, I have a strong suspicion she is the same way. If I know anything, it’s how exhausting being “on” can be. If I were a betting man, I’d say she goes back to her hotel room after a long day of signing books and taking pictures with her fans, flips on the television, orders room service, and doesn’t reappear for at least eighteen hours. At least, that’s what I do.
When Kate is about three people from the front, I begin making my way toward the line. I know my role here today, and it isn’t holding up this wall with my back, it’s taking Kate’s picture with the authors, and pulling that damn cart when necessary. A cart. Ridiculous.
By the time I reach the line, Kate is setting a stack of books back in the cart. Somehow, I know she has more.
“There you are.”
“Oh! I was looking for you,” Kate says to me. I recognize that excited gleam in her eye. She’s in heaven, and I’m going to have a hell of a time getting her out those doors before this event is over. “I know you met Adeline Snow in the hallway earlier, but I was just telling her she should come out to the next X Games. You could show her around, maybe introduce her to people, right?”
I look up at the woman in question and something about her expression makes me freeze up. It’s like a mixture of awe and fear. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”
“Great! Just track me down when you need to get hold of him.” Kate continues to babble, so I tune her out, too focused on the woman in front of me. She’s intriguing, to say the least. Awkward and unsure, yet comfortable around chatterboxes like my sister. Then all of the sudden, she appears to straighten her spine and laser focuses on the conversation in front of her. I shuffle over a few inches, putting myself in her line of sight again. Why I move, I have no idea, but it bothers me that she’s ignoring me.
That’s a really strange feeling to have about some random romance author I never knew existed until about three hours ago.
I tune back into the conversation just as Adeline is working her way around the table to stand in front of a large banner with her name on it. Thankfully she isn’t like a few of the other authors I’ve seen around here with half naked dudes on the banners. I don’t need to be that up-close and personal with a guy’s nipples.
Kate looks over her shoulder for me but it’s the sight of Adeline falling that has me rushing to her and scooping her in my arms before she falls to the ground. She’s light in my arms and the gasp she gives followed by the “Karma is a bitch” she grumbles makes me chuckle.
“Whoa there,” I say as I tighten my grip on her. Looking down, I see her heel is tangled in the base of the banner. I adjust my hold on her with my left hand and glide my right down her calf to grip her ankle. With a tug, I set her foot free but not before I note the goosebumps all over her skin and the light pink blush on her cheeks.
“You okay?”
Nodding, she stands up and takes a deep breath. Her eyes are fixated on my chest while my hands grip her waist. On reflex, my fingers widen, and my grip strengthens just a bit. She smells amazing. Like lemon and sugar. Slowly her gaze rises from my chest to meet my eyes. Smiling, I watch as her eyelashes flutter and her blush darkens.
Damn, she’s beautiful.
“Sss . . .sorry. I’m fine. Thank you for saving me. That could have been disastrous.”
“Ohmygod Adeline, are you okay? Spencer, let her go. Quit manhandling her,” Kate admonishes as she pushes me out of the way. I stand awkwardly to the side, never taking my eyes off Adeline as my sister runs her hands down her arms and moves her around like one of her kids after they eat shit on the sidewalk.
“I’m fine, thank you so much for checking on me, Kate. How about that picture?”
“What? Oh, yes. Okay. Umm, Spence can you take it?”
Nodding, I pull Kate’s phone from my back pocket and snap a few pictures of the two of them. After the last photo, Kate steps back from Adeline. On impulse, I snap one more photo of Adeline talking to Kate and without thinking, text it to my phone.
“Wait!” Kate exclaims as Adeline turns to walk back around to her seat. “Will you take one more, with my brother?”
I watch as Adeline stumbles a little. Clearly flustered, I can’t help but laugh a little at her awkwardness. It’s fucking adorable.
“Sure,” she says with a forced smile.
I switch places with Kate and stand next to Adeline awkwardly, nerves suddenly getting the best of me. Rubbing my now sweaty palms on my shorts, I move to place my arm around Adeline’s waist when she stiffens.
Leaning down to her ear, I whisper, “I promise not to bite. Just smile so my sister will move along. Otherwise, she may invite you over for pot roast, and she’s a horrible cook.” That last comment earns me a giggle and ultimately a smile as she looks up at me through her long lashes.
“Perfect! Thank you so much, Adeline. I’ll email your assistant about the games.”
With a few more goodbyes and me calling Kate a “line hog,” I manage to maneuver my sister away from her favorite author and into the abyss of this event. Lord help me.
•••
Two hours.
That’s how long I lasted in the large room filled with dedicated and loyal fans. I had a few other words to describe the women I met today but that is the description Kate demanded I use when talking about her fellow readers. While I wasn’t the lone man holding the handle to a rolling cart filled with books, I’m sure I was the only one who was less than two months post-op from his second knee surgery. By the time my knee swelled to the size of a small melon, I had already made eye contact with a few guys who had also entered the Twilight Zone also known as a book signing.
When we were in line for an author that my sister declared to be the author for ugly cry books, I looked to the man on my right, and he rolled his eyes in time with me. Solidarity. We were men, there in solidarity, supporting the women we love, one photo and two lip balms at a time.
Unfortunately for Kate, my body wasn’t on board with my role as support system, and I had to abandon my duties and hobble to the bar. A few beers, a basket of wings, and a college football game later, she appeared to retrieve me for phase two of the day—dinner. I had a bad feeling the “dedicated and loyal” readers she met in line throughout the day were going to be at this dinner and was thinking of a million excuses to avoid going. Looking down at my knee as she pushed the button for the elevator, I realized the bum knee was not a viable excuse.
“Stop trying to get out of this. I’m taking you to dinner to thank you. Seriously, Spence, this was the best birthday gift ever. I had such an amazing day. I mean, we talked to Adeline Snow for like ten minutes.”
Laughing, I pull the rolling cart into the elevator behind me before answering. “It was more like fifteen, and by the way the others in line reacted, it may have been longer. And, you’re welcome.”
“I’ve been in her reader group for a while now and admit to freely stalking her social media, but she doesn’t post many photos of herself. That girl does like her coffee though. Anyway, I had no idea how pretty she was until you stopped her in the hallway.”
I listen to my sister ramble on as the elevator ascends to our floor. Thoughts of Adeline Snow and her beauty fill my head. It was her quirky outfit and obvious awkwardness that I liked the most. And her smile. That damn smile.
“Is that okay?”
“What?” I ask, completely missing anything Kate had been saying.
“I said I want to ta
ke a quick shower before we go.”
“Oh yeah, that’s fine. What are you going to do with all of these books?”
Kate slides the key card in front of the sensor a few times before the light turns green, granting us access. As we step in the room, she asks, “What do you mean?”
“Are you going to read them all?”
“Oh, I’ve already read most of them.”
Say what? Why would we stand in line all day for her to purchase books she’s read?
“I’m so confused,” I say as I drop the handle of the cart and throw myself on my bed, careful not get my shoes on the bedspread. Although come to think of it, this probably isn’t the safest place to be lying down. I’m sure there are way worse germs on this top blanket than the ones on my shoes.
Rolling her eyes as she stands at the foot of the bed, hands on her hips, she lets out a loud exhale.
“I read most of my books on my e-reader, but I get my favorites signed and have them all on my bookshelves. I’m a book nerd, Spencer, this shouldn’t be news to you.”
She’s right, for our entire life Kate has been an avid reader. I just never realized to what level. I kick off my shoes as I settle into the pillows, back resting against the headboard as Kate gathers her belongings and heads into the bathroom for her shower.
“I’ll be quick, promise.” Famous last words as she closes the door. I know I have at least an hour. Looking around for the remote, I spy her e-reader instead. It would be wrong of me to read one of her books. That has to be some sort of invasion of privacy. What if, instead, I sneak one of those books in the cart? She’d never know. That’s probably better.
I furrow my brow at my own weird thoughts because how in the world would reading a book be an invasion of privacy? I must need to ice my knee more. Clearly the pain is making my brain malfunction.
Like Kate has some sort of sixth sense, probably a mom thing, the door opens, and she peeks her head out to say, “Do not touch my paperbacks. They are not for reading. There’s no passcode on my device. Just stay out of the folder that says “bow chicka wow wow” if you know what’s good for you.”
I shake away the idea of what is in that folder as I grab her device and lie back down on the bed. Sliding my finger across the screen, I watch as it lights up and no less than a dozen folders appear on the screen. As I skim the folders I see she has many of them named the various genres she mentioned earlier when she was explaining the different types of romance. One folder in particular catches my eye. Adeline Snow.
Curiosity may kill the cat, but in my case, I hope it only helps me understand how a quirky woman with a throwback hairdo and a skirt that looks like it’s missing a poodle can write anything that involves Extreme Sports. As the folder opens, little books appear and fill the screen. Clicking one that depicts a snowboarder, I try to leave my judgments at the door as I see what Ms. Snow has to offer.
“What’d you choose?” Kate asks, scaring the shit out of me.
“Jesus, what are you? A ninja? And how did you get ready so fast?”
“First of all, it’s been an hour like I told you it would be.”
Glancing at the clock I realize she’s right. Huh. Adeline Snow has some real talent for me to lose track of time.
“And second, I’m a mom. I can move in and out of a room on demand without being detected. If I couldn’t, I’d never get any peace. Or wine. So which book did you choose?” Kate asks, grabbing the device from my hand and tapping the screen. “Oh, one of Adeline’s books. I loved this one. I wanted to have fictional babies with Gabe. He’s swoony.”
“Fictional babies? Swoony? What the hell are you talking about?”
Dismissing me with a hand wave, she turns to slide her feet into her shoes before grabbing her purse.
“Nevermind. So, what do you think?”
“I think there’s not one reference to a bosom or throbbing member on any of these pages.”
“It’s not our momma’s romance, dipshit. Or hell, even Gran’s. This is real-life romance. Broken people who deserve second chances and true love.”
“If you say so. I will give Ms. Snow credit, she’s on point with the sports.”
“I know, right? It’s like she was either an athlete in a previous life or she does her homework. Actually, she did say she grew up watching the X Games. I guess authors do write what they know,” she rambles. “But, if you really want to enjoy her books, you need to get the audios.”
“The whats?”
“Audio books. The guy who narrates them is amazing. His voice . . . well, let’s just say he may be why you have a third niece.”
I flash her an over-exaggerated grimace. “And on that note, let’s go to dinner. I think I’ll get the steak and lobster after that comment. It may help bleach my brain.”
Chapter 7
Aggi
Scrubbing the makeup off my face, I try to forget about the day. Normally, I’m exhausted after a signing, but today was over the top for my emotions. I felt like I was riding a roller coaster . . .
Anticipation of meeting all my readers.
Unexpected adrenaline and fear as my muse approached me.
Recovery time to pull myself back together.
Small drop of adrenaline as I made conversation with readers.
Huge adrenaline and fear as my muse approached again.
Literal drop into his arms, leaving me with a third huge shot of adrenaline.
Attempting to get my breathing under control until I could get off that wild ride.
If I could figure out how to make it work, the entire thing could be a cool storyline. Too bad I don’t write about my own life and experiences. Not that I have enough experiences to draw from anyway. I really need someone close to me to start dating so they can give me some inspiration.
Looking into the mirror, droplets of water slide down my face. What is it that makes me so awkward around people? I’m a decent looking person, right? Maybe more on the handsome than pretty side, but all the acne from my younger years went away long ago with a strict routine of several glasses of water every day and some basic facewash. My big, dark eyes are framed by thick lashes and not a smile line, or crow’s feet as they’re so affectionately called, yet. Even I have to admit, I have nice thick hair. The dark isn’t showing any signs of gray popping through and usually it does what I want. Unless it’s windy. Or humid. Or raining.
Okay, sometimes it’s a struggle, but hairbands were invented for a reason.
So why can I not seem to conjure up a conversation with strangers without almost having a panic attack first?
I suppose it really isn’t my looks that make me awkward. It’s the words that come out of my mouth. There’s a random disconnect between my brain and my tongue. Not to mention my clumsiness. I should be grateful I only fell once today.
Wait . . . twice.
Well, three times if you count when my hotel room door flew open faster than I was expecting, but since no one was here to see it, I’m choosing to forget that one.
Patting my face with a dry towel and finishing up my facial-care regimen, I try to focus on the important things about today: my favorite Olaf footie pajamas that feel soft against my skin and the room service that will be here in fifteen minutes. After expending so much emotional energy today, downtime sounds perfect. As an introvert, I need to recuperate.
Plopping down on my bed, I grab my laptop and open my latest manuscript. Maybe “manuscript” is giving it too much credit. “Random word doc with a few paragraphs slapped on” is a more fitting description.
Set in California, our hero is a newly retired surfing instructor with a new protégé in the form of our beautiful, yet broken heroine. Trying to make a comeback after a severe injury, it’s up to our hero to help her get her head on straight and get back into competition form. Can he help save her career, or will their emotions get in the way and destroy it all?
Happy with the premise, I place my fingers on the keyboard and wait.
; And wait.
And wait some more.
Gah! Why won’t the words come? What is going on with my brain that is causing my creativity to stall out so badly? If nothing else, I figured seeing Spencer in the flesh would give me a boost of inspiration. Now that I’ve seen him up close, smelled him, felt his heat when he wrapped his arm around my waist for a picture, I should be cranking this story out quickly.
Closing my eyes, I think back to how he looked at me. Deep blue eyes that seemed to see right into my soul. His scent reminded me of my younger years when the possibilities were endless, and I was free of adult responsibilities, my only goal to have fun and master the halfpipe. His strong arms that made me feel petite and safe.
It seems so easy in my head but getting those thoughts onto this page isn’t happening.
Sighing, I toss my laptop to the side and grab my phone to dial. Contrary to popular belief, working as an author isn’t just writing. There’s a lot of administrative work that goes into it as well. Maybe I can be productive in that arena until I’m finally hit with words that turn into a story.
“Hey there, Adeline,” a sexy voice says on the other end of the phone.
“Shut up, Todd. You know I hate it when you call me that.”
The deep timber of his voice reverberates through the phone as he laughs. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you already scrubbed Adeline off your face and morphed back into Aggi. Are you already in your jammies?”
I snuggle down under the covers of my king-sized bed and sigh again. “Yeah. It was a long day.”
“I saw.”
“Saw? What do you mean you saw?” Now I’m confused. He’s at home and I’m in Chicago, right?
“Do you ever check your social media accounts?”
Sitting straight up in bed, I grab my laptop again and frantically begin to log on. I have a bad feeling about this. “Not unless I have to. Why? What happened?”
“You are so about to freak out. I’ll wait.” He chuckles again and the sound of it reminds me of the reason for my call—to find out if he got the contract worked out with my publisher to start narrating my latest novel. Since we were kids, I told Todd he needed to get into radio, but he wasn’t interested. And thank goodness for that. Suddenly, with internet and satellite, local radio seems to be a dying art. Audiobooks, though, are on the rise.