"I'm sure he's excited about that," Zachary said.
The conversation had moved back to the rules of living at home, but unfortunately, now as he tried to work on his novel, Zachary couldn't focus on it. He couldn't get his mind off Jasmine. She was gorgeous and seemed into him—for some reason. It was nice to have someone interested in him. And she actually cared about his book. Who else had asked to read it?
Guilt tugged at him for not sending the book file yet. He'd told her he would, but he couldn't bring himself to send it. What if she didn't like it? Of course, he would have to get over that fear if—no, when—he finally got published. Then, anyone would be able to read his work and look into his soul.
In some ways, putting his book out there was more of a risk than shouting his most embarrassing secrets for all to hear. There were parts of the story that expressed things he had no way of saying otherwise, and yet on the other hand, it had things in it that had nothing to do with him. The antagonist, for example. He was a horrible person who said and did terrible things Zachary despised. What if people thought that was how he thought deep down?
He sighed. It was no wonder he hadn't made it to being published yet. It would be too much. What if he wasn't cut out for this life like he thought? The thought of sending it out to just one person made his mouth dry and his pulse race.
Or was it because he cared what she thought? After dealing with Monica, he hadn't been sure if he would ever let a girl back in. It wasn't worth the risk. He'd rather be single if that was the case. He also loved his alone time, so it was a good excuse to just have all the time he needed.
But now that he'd met Jasmine, he couldn't help wondering if a relationship could actually work. If someone like her actually had an interest in his writing, it was possible. Writing wasn't just a job he went to and came home, able to ignore after leaving. No, it was part of him. If someone said they cared about him but didn't care about his writing, he had to question how they really felt about him.
He'd had old friends from school that he hadn't seen in years show more interest in reading his book than Monica ever had. That should have been his first clue to ditch her.
Zachary's phone beeped, and he checked to see who would text him. His heart raced when he saw Jasmine's name, and it went even faster as he pushed the button to read the text.
Just want to make sure I didn't miss your email. Can't wait to read your book.
His heart sank. He'd let her down—she'd probably been waiting since they left the restaurant. Or maybe she really just was checking to see if she'd missed the email… that he hadn't even sent.
Pulse pounding in his ears, Zachary texted her back.
I'm about to send it. Hope you like it.
His finger hovered over the send button for a moment before he finally pushed it.
Awesome. I can't wait.
Zachary's heart felt like it was going to burst outside of his chest.
"Here goes nothing," he mumbled, closing out his writing program and opening his email. His fingers shook as he opened a new message and wrote a quick note to Jasmine before uploading the files. He wasn't sure which type of reader she had, so he sent her everything he had.
This time, his mouse hovered over the send button. He finally pushed it.
There. Now that was over. He'd sent it, and she was going to read it. What was the worst that could happen? She'd hate it and decide never to see him again? That was unlikely, and even if it did happen, at least he'd gotten one more person to read it.
That was more than he and his agent had been able to do the entire time he'd been in New York. And Jasmine was a nice person. If she didn't like it, she would probably tell him what he could do to improve it. Either way, he was one step closer to being a real author. Not just a writer, but someone with a novel that another person had actually read.
Just sent it. Let me know if it doesn't show up.
His phone beeped again.
Got it. Can't wait to start. A string of celebrating smilies danced following the words.
Zachary couldn't help smiling. Maybe this actually was a good thing.
He sent her some animated smilies also, not quite able to find anything to say.
Taking a deep breath, he waited to see if she sent anymore messages. After a minute, there was nothing. That must mean she was sending the file to her reader.
The urge to start the outline finally hit. He set his phone down and went back to his laptop and started typing about his second book. He started by writing out main ideas he already had. It wasn't much, but he could flesh it out once he had it written out. He read through what he had and thought of a few more ideas.
His phone beeped again, and when he checked the text, Jasmine had sent a screen-shot of the first page of chapter one. His heart jumped into his throat and then swelled with excitement. What a rush that she was so excited, but at the same time, it was the scariest thing he'd ever experienced.
Zachary thought of a bunch of things he could text back, but they all seemed too stupid. But he couldn't send nothing, either, so he finally settled on sending some reading emoticons. Thank goodness for those.
"What are you doing over there?" his mom asked, giving him a funny look.
"Discussing my book with someone."
She nodded. "I wondered what was so funny."
He went back to his outline and pushed away all other thoughts, especially the ones wondering what Jasmine thought of his story. Before too long, or at least what felt like it, he had several pages written out. He felt like he had enough meat to get started.
Zachary read it over, making sure there was enough of a character arc, a good enough set of antagonists, and some decent external and internal goals that would be thwarted often enough to keep things interesting. He made a few notes and then started planning out the details of the first several chapters.
Getting started was the hardest part—the long list of unwritten books on his notepad was evidence of that—but he finally felt ready to tackle this one. He wasn't sure how well the romance would work in the storyline, but he'd at least try. The worst that could happen would be having to rewrite that part.
He opened a blank page for the first chapter. It stared at him for a few minutes as he thought about the opening line. It had to be compelling. Something that would grab the reader and make them want to keep reading.
No pressure.
Zachary went back to his outline and read over the early parts and finally just decided to write. As long as he had something down, that was better than nothing. Unwritten words can't be edited, but even the worst written words could be. He could go back and fix the opening later.
After the first few paragraphs, he found his flow and was brought back into the world he'd created. Everything felt natural, almost like returning home. He'd spent so much time on the first book, he knew his main character almost better than he knew himself. Sure, he'd plunked Damion in a different country this time and with someone new who wanted him dead, but it was familiar enough that the words practically wrote themselves.
By the time he was ready for a break, he had a solid first chapter. He backed everything up even though it had automatically saved to the cloud. A writer can never have too many backups. He closed the laptop and set it next to him on the couch before getting up to stretch his legs and arms.
His parents had left the living room, but Zachary hadn't even noticed. That was a good sign—that he'd been so wrapped up in his writing that the world around him had disappeared. Now he just needed to keep that momentum going until he had another thirty or so chapters.
He went to the kitchen for a snack and found his mom making dessert.
"You've been typing for quite a while," she said, pouring chocolate sauce over ice cream. "I'm proud of you, Zachary. I knew you could get back into your rhythm."
"Hopefully, this will be the one. If anyone will even look at it."
She added sprinkles. "I'm sure it will be. The thing to remember is that y
ou've already done something most people haven't. You've written a book and had others read it. It's brave."
He shrugged, sticking his thumbs into his pockets. "I wouldn't say that."
"I would."
She turned and looked him in the eyes. "I used to write stories when I was younger, but I never once let anyone read them. Not even your dad knows about them."
"You've written?" he asked, surprised.
"They're nothing much, but I did enjoy writing when I was younger."
"How come you never told me?" he asked.
She brought out a bag of small candies from the cupboard. "Because I'm nowhere near as daring as you. You have guts, and I couldn't be more proud."
His face heated up. "Even though I'm not published?"
"Of course."
"Even though I went to New York and came back a failure?" He looked away.
She turned back to him and stepped closer. "I don't ever want to hear you say that again. You went after your dream, and though nothing has come of it yet, you're still pursuing it. The only way to fail is if you give up, and I don't see you doing that."
"Hopefully, I won't have to."
"Don't you know most success stories have a string of so-called failures behind it?" she asked. "It's all just a stepping stone to the great things ahead of you."
When had his mom become so wise? He nodded, feeling even more invigorated. "Yeah, you're right. Once one of these books gets picked up, so will the rest."
"Exactly. Don't let anyone else determine your worth. You show them. Make them regret ever turning you away."
Zachary nodded. "That's exactly what I'm going to do."
Eight
Jasmine hit snooze for about the eighth time and considered calling in sick. She wasn't, but she'd stayed up half the night reading Zachary's book. The first couple chapters were a little slow, but then when she hit the third one, it took off like an explosion, and she couldn't put it down.
Finally, her eyes wouldn't stay open another moment. Unfortunately, that was only four hours ago. She couldn't let that get the best of her. She still needed to be responsible and teach her classes. Sure, she could let a sub take over for the day, but that could show up on her file, making her look bad for the dance studios she wanted to get into.
She'd just have to drink coffee. A lot of it. Her habit had been to pick something up at a stand on her way to the club, but she needed some just to get ready this morning. They had some instant coffee that would work in a pinch—and that was what this was.
When she got to the kitchen and warmed up the water, she turned around and jumped. She'd forgotten about her mom's arrival the night before. Now she slept on the couch, and no surprise, empty bottles of alcohol were strewn about on the floor.
Jasmine hoped that Kate hadn't seen the mess, and probably hadn't since she usually slept in, having signed up for later classes that Jasmine. Groaning, Jasmine gathered her mom's bottles and put them in the recycle. She would have to empty it on her way out before Kate could see them.
With any luck, her mom would sleep through the morning, and neither Kate nor she would have to deal with her mom. Then her mom could spend the afternoon working off her hangover, and possibly—but not likely—be pleasant when Kate and Jasmine got back home to the condo that night.
Jasmine didn't even know why her mom was in Kittle Falls. She'd tried to find out the night before, but it had been useless. Whatever the reasons, her mom wasn't ready to talk about them.
She couldn't help but wonder if her parents were finally splitting up. Growing up, she had waited, expecting the ball to drop any day, but they continued to stick out despite all the screaming and threats. It was why Jasmine had spent more nights at friends' houses than at her own home. No one seemed to notice or care, so it worked out well for everyone.
Or at least it seemed that way. Jasmine had thought once she got out of the house she was done with all the drama. She hadn't seen her family since high school graduation, and she hadn't missed them. She felt guilty about that. Who wouldn't? They were her parents, and she wanted to have a good relationship with them, but they brought her down so much it wasn't worth it.
The little bit of counseling she'd had confirmed that much. Her parents would continue to drag her down as long as she let them. Jasmine's personal boundaries were the one thing she could give them that might help them to wake up and make the fixes they needed. And she had no intentions of holding her breath.
She just did her best to avoid alcohol, except to have a sip or two socially on occasion, so she wouldn't risk ending up like them. If anyone knew how alcohol could ruin lives, it was her. Jasmine couldn't even bring herself to think about her brother most days. Carter had followed in their parents footsteps, but he hadn't been so lucky.
One night—technically, early one morning—Carter had left a party and ran into a pole. Everyone said his death had been instant, but Jasmine thought they just said that so it would hurt less. It didn't.
The tea kettle hissed, letting her know the water was ready. She grabbed it off the stove so it wouldn't wake anyone, and made some instant coffee. She'd made it too strong and it tasted awful, but it would have to do. As long as it helped her heavy eyelids, she had no choice.
She drank half her mug, watching her mom sleep on the couch. How could her brother's accident not have been a wakeup call for parents? Instead of realizing how they'd messed up everything and sobering up, they'd only gotten worse—and she hadn't thought that was possible.
Jasmine had been the only one with the resolve to stay away from the poison. Now she needed to figure out what was going on with her parents. She needed to either send her mom back home or to rehab. She wasn't going to do anything to encourage her behavior, and based on the bottles she'd just picked up, her mom had no intentions of improving.
There was no time for that now, and her mom would likely sleep all day, anyway. She might not even wake up until Jasmine got back after work. Then she would insist they talk, or she would send her mom back home. She'd pay for a cab if needed.
She quickly got ready, drinking down the disgusting coffee as she went. Then she took the recycling down to the main canister downstairs. Though Kate would likely smell alcohol on her mom, she at least wouldn't see the evidence.
Back at the condo, she finished her coffee, grabbed her purse, and left. She went to the first coffee stand on her way and ordered a double shot latte. It tasted much better than the disaster she'd made earlier.
The coffee had Jasmine buzzing with energy despite still feeling tired. Her eyelids were heavy, and she hadn't been able to hide the dark circles under her eyes with makeup.
When she arrived in her classroom, some kids were already waiting. She got them busy with warm-ups while she looked over her lesson plan for the day.
The morning breezed by as she sipped her latte. It kept her going, but she knew she'd need more by lunchtime. Her mind was already going at double speed, yet she couldn't stop yawning. It was an annoying combination. But at least she was able to think about what to do about her mom while she instructed the girls.
Lunch came around and Jasmine realized she'd forgotten to pack anything to eat. She went over to the window and grabbed her purse. She saw Zachary sitting in what was becoming "his" spot on the bench.
Her heart raced. She needed food to get through the rest of the day, but she wanted to see him more. She looked over the classroom and then left, hurrying to meet him.
As she approached, he set his tablet down and smiled. Oh, that smile. She couldn't get enough of it, and even better, it made her forget everything else.
She sat next to him, so close they were almost touching.
"I love your book," she said. "In fact, I'm running on fumes because I read it way too late last night."
His eyes widened. "Really?"
"I'm dying to know what happens to Damion. I would have stayed up to finish it if I could have skipped work."
Zachary's beautiful smile wide
ned. "I'd tell you, but it would ruin the surprise."
"No spoilers." She laughed.
"How far did you get?" he asked.
"Damion just discovered the clue in the jewelry store."
"The one in Vienna?" Zachary asked.
Jasmine raised an eyebrow. "Vienna? When does he—?"
"I've said too much." He covered his mouth, his eyes shining.
"Oh," Jasmine complained. "Don't do this to me. How does he get there? I mean, with the broken leg and the—"
"You said no spoilers."
"I did. You're going to kill me." She shook her head. Her stomach rumbled—luckily not loud enough for him to hear. "Are you up for lunch? I forgot to pack mine. That's what I get for staying up too late."
"Sure, and it's my treat since it's apparently my fault." He grinned again. Jasmine loved the way his entire face lit up with his smile. "Sound good?"
Heat crept into her cheeks as she realized she'd been staring like a fool. "I'd have a hard time saying no to that, but are you sure?"
"I wouldn't offer if I wasn't." Zachary stood and held out his hand. She took it and stood, sliding her fingers in between his. She liked the way his hand felt like it was made for hers. He squeezed her hand, smiling wider.
Jasmine's heart raced. "Where to?" she asked.
"I know of a little place only the locals know about. They have some delicious pasta dishes and desserts to die for."
She stared into his eyes. She didn't care where they ate as long she was with him, and she could keep him smiling. "That sounds perfect."
"And they tend to not be as busy, too, which is always a plus during the lunch rush."
They walked down a road Jasmine had never noticed before, taking turns through parts of town she didn't know existed. "Is this Kittle Falls' hidden secret?"
"We have a whole part of town that's ignored by the tourists, but since you've been here all summer, it doesn't really make you a visitor, does it?" He smiled, his eyes shining.
How did he expect her to answer when he looked at her like that?
Seaside Dances: A Sweet Romance (The Seaside Hunters Book 3) Page 5