Center of Gravity

by Neve Wilder

  “Come on, you little dictator. Help me finish this off.” I waved a bacon strip in the air and he came racing back to me.

  Alex: attachment:

  Rob: This is a chubby kid dancing. Does that mean you got the job?

  Alex: attachment:

  Rob: Now we’re talking. David Bowie is always the right choice.

  Rob: attachment:

  Alex: lol. We really need to work on your gif game

  Rob: What’s wrong with a dancing cat?

  Rob: I just called you. Answer your phone. I’m tired of typing. It’s annoying.

  Alex: No. Awww…do you need reading glasses already?

  Rob: But really. Call me back.

  Alex: No. In honor of our “inauspicious” beginnings, we are only speaking via text until at least tonight.

  But I answered when my phone rang again, laughing into the receiver. “Yes, I got it.”

  I could hear the smile in his voice as he replied, “I knew you would. When do you start?”

  “I told them I needed to give Buffs two weeks’ notice, but I’ll go in for some training a few days before I start. And I’ll have time to get my stuff moved into your place.”

  “Our place.”

  “Mmm. I like the sound of that. Oh! I forgot another awesome thing. The gallery rents out their second floor as artists’ space and Mika, the owner, said I could move all my stuff into one of the stalls. I can’t wait to show you. It’s so awesome. Great light, plus other artists working.” I was practically vibrating with happiness and I couldn’t wait to see Rob and celebrate.

  “We should do dinner or something.”

  “I’ve got a better idea.” He couldn’t see the devious smile I gave to my phone, but maybe he could hear it in my voice, because his response came slightly wary.

  “Yes?”

  “You need to open up Grindr. Check your chats.”

  “Oh God, I don’t even think I can remember my password on that thing.”

  “It’s probably numbers$$cruncher1 like everything else of yours is.”

  “What are you up to?”

  “Open it.” I waited, grinning to myself. I liked my plan a whole hell of a lot and I hoped he’d go along with my attempt to redo our night in the club. This would be the upgraded version, where we both got a happy ending.

  “Oh hey, that was the password.” He chuckled, then his laughter trailed off as I assumed he checked his messages and read what I’d sent him. I heard him draw in a low breath. “Jesus Christ, Alex. You’re going to get us arrested.”

  “Nah. If I tell you the risk/reward ratio is very much in your favor, does that help?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Then I’ll see you at Liberation at eight. Keep the suit on.”

  “You better be serious about those leather pants if I’m keeping the suit. Eight. I’ll be there. And hey, I love you.”

  “God you’re such a sap.”

  “It’s just going to keep getting worse with age, I suspect.”

  “Good. Wouldn’t have it any other way. Love you, old man.” I grinned as I ended the call.

  I tugged lightly on Winslow’s leash when he finished marking a stop sign. “Come on buddy, we’re burning daylight.”

  If I left now, I’d have just enough time to drive over to Nook Island, tell my mom and Lainey the news about my new job as an assistant at one of the hottest galleries in Savannah, grab those stupid leather pants, and be back in time to meet Rob and blow his mind at the club. Again.

  -END-

  Want More?

  Want more Alex and Rob? Turn the page to find out how you can access a steamy deleted scene from Center of Gravity.

  You can also come hang out with me in my Facebook reader group, Wilder’s Wild Ones.

  Thanks

  Thanks for Reading!

  Readers are the heart that beats behind any book, and I’d be honored if you’d take a moment to lend your voice by leaving a review for Center of Gravity either on Amazon or Goodreads.

  The next book in the Nook Island series follows Tom, Alex’s discombobulated “straight” friend and Reese, the go-go dancer with a heart of steel, as they fumble and snark their way toward their happily ever after.

  My newsletter readers receive updates on book releases, exclusive excerpts, teasers, deleted scenes, opportunities for ARCs, and giveaways, as well as Extracurricular Activities, a free serial only available to subscribers that current readers are describing as:

  “Insanely hot”

  “Holy hotness batman”

  “Jesus, that was ridiculously hot…”

  And, when words failed, animated gifs of oscillating fans and a woman sticking her head in a freezer (my personal favorite).

  To access a deleted scene from Center of Gravity, as well as to catch up on my spicy subscriber-only series, Extracurricular Activities, sign up here: bit.ly/NeveWilderNewsletter

  Read on for Story Notes, a behind the scenes look at how Center of Gravity came about.

  Story Notes From Neve

  I began this book in 2015 after seeing a truck driving around town with a similarly ridiculous logo to College Buffs Haul Your Stuff emblazoned on the side. The name cracked me up, but an idea for a story started brewing in me immediately.

  I pictured a guy in the process of clearing out the family home and thought, wouldn’t it be quirky if his sister had hired this moving company, trying to inject a tiny bit of lightness (no matter how inappropriate) into this rather depressing task? From there, a character surfaced: a grumpy accountant named Rob, stuck in the mud life has a way of slinging us and just trying to get out.

  A May-December romance seemed like just the right thing to unstick him. Alex was born as a mover for the company—an ostensibly bright-eyed, freewheeling college-aged guy who was going through hard times of his own.

  But I set the story aside after writing two chapters, uncertain of how to move forward with so much potentially heavy subject matter saddling it from the get go. At the time, I’d been itching to write something light, fluffy, and happy.

  And then, two years later, a day after he’d taken the whole family out to celebrate Mother’s Day, my dad went to the hospital thinking he had food poisoning. A little over a month after that, he passed away. I was fortunate in that I got to hold his hand often and say goodbye.

  It wasn’t enough. I doubt anything ever is when it comes to the death of a loved one, and I still miss the feeling of his hand in mine.

  Six months later, at the turn of the new year, I decided I was going to do something I’d never done before. In honor of my father, and the fact that life is too damn short for too many of us, I was going to pick up one of those stories I’d abandoned and write it from start to finish. I’d been writing all my life, but never with any serious dedication. Alex and Rob called to me, and it’s very obvious to me now that I was writing through my own grief, trying to exorcise the darkness and sadness I’d been drowning in.

  The last drive Alex and his dad take together was both particularly brutal and particularly hopeful for me to write. In it, I set free my deepest wish: that in those final days of struggle, my own dad had reached the sense of peace that Alex’s father had.

  So this wasn’t a light fluffy read, but I aimed to make it hopeful. Hopeful and alive, messy and imperfect, sexy and tender—sometimes in the strangest of moments. Just as life can be. If you’ve ever dealt with death, you probably know what I mean when I say that emotions surface in the most unusual ways and in the most unusual places. I hope I captured that in this book and I hope that reading through Alex and Rob’s rocky and imperfect road to happiness was as satisfying in the end as it was to write it.

  Acknowledgments

  I’m incredibly grateful to these people for helping me as I took my first baby steps into the world of publishing.

  C. Decherd, for being my number one fan. Thank you for your encouragement, honesty, and unwavering support. And for reading
everything of mine even when the words don’t have their make-up on or their hair fixed.

  Sue Laybourn for helping me fix aforementioned hair and make-up, for being patient through my endless rounds of overthinking every.single.thing. and for being a wonderful, kind-hearted person in general. I so enjoyed our running commentaries during the editing phase. It’s true: it’s very hard to go wrong with gray on your walls. I promise. :D

  Leslie Copeland, the first person to set eyes on this book. Thank you for that text that it made you cry. Because you in turn made me cry. Reading that was one of the biggest thrills of my life, and I will never forget it. And thank you for the endless support, advice, and help you’ve given me pretty much every day since then.

  Sandra Dee, for trading pics of our disaster desks back and forth and cracking me up. For your encouragement, humor, and advice.

  Meg Bawden, a wonderful author with a generous spirit, who reached out and made me feel immediately welcomed, and who is an open ear and a wellspring of support.

  About the Author

  Neve Wilder lives in the dirty South, where the summers are hot and the winters are...sometimes cold. She is a mom to three rambunctious weebeasts who have joined forces in a mission to carpet the family home with toys and small items that really suck to step on at six in the morning.

  She reads promiscuously, across multiple genres, but her favorite stories always contain an element of romance. Incidentally, this is also what she likes to write. Slow-burners with delicious tension? Yes. Whiplash-inducing page-turners, also yes. Down and dirty scorchers? Yes. And every flavor in between.

  She believes David Bowie was the sexiest musician to ever live, and she's always game to nerd out on anything from music to writing.

  And finally, she believes that love conquers all. Except the heat index in July. Nothing can conquer that bastard.

  Connect with Neve on social media:

  www.NeveWilder.com

  Neve@nevewilder.com

  www.facebook.com/nevewilderwrites