Write You a Love Song

by Francisco, Fabiola

  Shaking my head, I head back into Reese’s apartment and find her still standing on the counter.

  “It ran off outside, far away from the building,” I add, knowing she’ll ask.

  “You’re the best.” She sits on the counter and rests the rolling pin next to her, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I take in her long legs hanging down the side of the peninsula. We’ve built a friendship these last few months, but I’ll be lying if I said I’ve never imagined what it would feel like to have her in my arms and bed.

  “As promised, breakfast is my treat.” Her bare feet with dark-painted toes slap the ground. “Just give me a few to shower and change.”

  “No rush.” I walk to the fridge and begin to slide it back. Then, I do the same with the stove, arranging everything back to its place. Grabbing the rolling pin, I laugh as I stare at it, tapping it against my palm a few times. What the hell was she going to do with this? Hit the mouse like a baseball?

  I wash the rolling pin and set it on the drying rack next to the sink. I look around the kitchen while I wait for Reese to get ready and imagine cooking with her in here.

  “You put everything back. Thank you,” Reese stands in the kitchen’s entrance wearing jeans and a sweater, her long hair in a ponytail.

  “Ready to eat?” I move in her direction.

  “Yes.” She picks up her purse from the couch as we pass the living room and we head out.

  “My car?” I lift my brows in question.

  “Yeah.” She opens the passenger door and climbs in. “Let’s go to Frenchie’s,” Reese suggests as I pull out of her parking lot.

  “Sounds good. Now, tell me what your plan was with that rolling pin.”

  “I don’t know. Swipe the mouse off the counter if it climbed up to attack me?” She shrugs, but her face scrunches up, doubting her own plan. “It was the first thing I saw that I could grab.”

  I chuckle, and she punches my shoulder. “Don’t laugh. I was desperate. Thank you for coming, no questions asked.”

  “I really thought it was something worse.”

  “But you would’ve come even knowing it was a mouse.” She grins with confidence. She’s right; whenever Reese calls me, I’m there.

  “And it was worth seeing you screaming as you stood on the counter,” I joke.

  “I was freaking out. I’m going to have to sanitize everything in my kitchen just in case. Ugh, let me text Taylor and let her know before she gets home.” Reese types on her phone, her fingers racing over the screen.

  “Let me guess, she’s at Mike’s?” Reese’s sister has been dating her boyfriend for a few years now, and she spends more time at his place than her own apartment.

  “Ding, ding, ding. You win a free breakfast,” Reese giggles and tosses her phone in her purse.

  I pull into a parking spot near Frenchie’s and turn off the engine.

  “I’m so hungry and in need of coffee. That creature screwed up my morning.” Reese rubs her hands together as I hold the door open for her. She’s already asking for a table by the time I walk in.

  “She said fifteen minutes.” She turns to look at me with a small smile.

  “Not too bad.” I glance at her and grin. She’s the kind of woman I want by my side. Not just brunch on Sundays and nights at Riot. I want the whole deal with her, beyond friendship, but I’m glad I’ve taken the time to get to know her the way I have. She’s careful with me, brushing me off if I compliment her or hint at my attraction, but she’s not immune to me. She feels something, whatever that something is, I hope to find it and gain her trust.

  We’re seated before the fifteen minutes are up. While we eat, I offer to help Reese clean everything in her kitchen.

  “What did I do to deserve a friend like you?” She sticks a piece of French toast in her mouth.

  “You deserve it without doing anything.”

  Her eyes crinkle as she smiles. “Can we stop at the hardware store on the way home so I can buy traps?” Her blue eyes open wide as she bites down on her lips.

  “You got it.” Any reason to spend more time with her. These past few months have been great, although I hope we can move past friends soon. Once we finally met at Riot after that night I searched for her all over the bar, we became fast friends, though we both know there’s more to our connection.

  After breakfast, we grab the traps, and Reese and I get to work taking out all of the containers, pans, pots, plates, and cups from her cupboards. It’s a bit excessive if you ask me, but I’m not arguing with the woman who owns a rolling pin and isn’t afraid to use it as a weapon.

  We fill the dishwasher with as many things as we can and wait while it washes, only to fill it again with more plates and cups. I wash what can’t go into the dishwasher by hand as Reese dries them.

  Music starts to play, and I notice Reese’s phone in her hand, a smile brushed on her perfect face as she scrolls through her phone.

  “This will help make the task less daunting,” she comments. Thomas Rhett starts playing, and she moves back to the sink, grabbing a pot and placing it in a cupboard.

  “Are you going to Rebel Desire’s album release party next weekend?” Reese pauses and looks at me.

  “Yeah, Hunter invited me.” Hunter is one of my best friends. He’s a songwriter who worked with Rebel Desire on this new album.

  “Awesome,” she beams. “Save me a dance.”

  “Wouldn’t miss that.” I think back to the first time we ever danced together. We had only known each other for a couple of months, and she was at Riot for one of my performances. She pulled me out to the dance floor when “Whiskey Girl” by Toby Keith started playing, laughing at my moves.

  I’ll have you know, Dex Monroe can dance despite Reese’s laughter that night.

  I think about that night often, remembering how she pointed out a woman who was checking me out. When I told her she wasn’t my type, Reese was surprised to learn I even had one. I couldn’t answer her when she asked who was my type, though. The only right answer to that question is her, and I didn’t want to risk the friendship we were slowly growing.

  Reese taps my shoulder with her fingers and raises her eyebrows. “Hello?” Her blue eyes widen as if I were crazy.

  “Sorry, zoned out,” I shake my head and come back to the present.

  “I was saying that the album release party will be great for you to meet some people in the industry.”

  “I guess. You know I want to make it on my own.” I pile the plates and place them in their spot on the top cupboard.

  “And you will, but you’ll just meet the right people that can help you.” I run a hand through my hair. I appreciate her always cheering me on and believing in me when I barely believe in myself.

  “If the opportunity arises, then yes.” I drop it. “Now, tell me where the cups go.” She points to a cabinet door.

  Once we finish, Reese drops on a stool at the counter, and her head falls into her hands. “Today has been a crazy day.”

  “Tell me about it, you own way too many kitchen supplies,” I tease as I open a bottle of wine she has set on the side of the counter. Serving her a glass, I stand on the other side of the counter, watching as she takes a drink.

  “I have beer in the fridge,” she points that way.

  “Thanks.” I grab one and stand in front of her. I lift my bottle in a silent toast and smirk.

  “Thank you for all your help. I’m sure you had better plans for today.”

  I shake my head. “Nah, you’re my favorite person.” I wink, and she rolls her eyes.

  One day she’ll be mine.

  Continue reading Promise You

  First and foremost, thank you so much for taking the time to read Write You a Love Song. This is a story that I knew I had to write when I first wrote Knox’s character in Promise You. There are always two sides to every story, and it was so fun to explore his side. Ainsley is the perfect woman to help him overcome his past, his guilt, and give him hope for new love. Your sup
port means the world to me, and like I’ve said before, without you this all wouldn’t be possible.

  To the team of people, whom without this this book would not be complete—Claire and Wendy from Bare Naked Words, Amy from Q Designs, Joy and Ally from Happily Ever Insta, Bex from Editing Ninja, and Cary for the beautiful formatting. Thank you ladies for being a part of this book and helping me make this release the best it can be.

  Christy and Rachel, no matter the years that pass or the amount of books we write (or now the miles and miles that separate us), I know that you two are always there for me. I can’t thank you enough for that. #soapythighsforlife

  Brittany, Cary, and Ashley, thanks for your encouragement, chats, and venting moments. It means a lot to know I can count on you when it comes to writing books and living life.

  Veronica and Miriam, you’ve been there from the beginning and still put up with my book conversations. lol Thank you!

  Ally, you have been a lifesaver when it comes to this series. Thank you for beta reading, giving me feedback, responding to my messages at any and every hour, and basically listening to me ramble. lol Axel is yours!

  Joy, you’re my boo. I’m pretty sure I’d be more of a mess than I am without you. You say I don’t need to thank you, but this is my book, so I’m thanking you for all you do. Even if we’re only chatting about air conditioning temperatures, I know I can count on you. Seventy degrees is still the perfect temperature.

  To all the bloggers, authors, and bookstagrammers that have shared my work and supported me, thank you. It takes a village, and you are all a part of mine.

  Fabiola Francisco loves the simplicity—and kick—of scotch on the rocks. She follows Hemingway’s philosophy—write drunk, edit sober. She writes women’s fiction and contemporary romance, dipping her pen into new adult and young adult. Her moods guide her writing, taking her anywhere from sassy and sexy romances to dark and emotion-filled love stories.

  Writing has always been a part of her life, penning her own life struggles as a form of therapy through poetry. She still stays true to her first love, poems, while weaving longer stories with strong heroines and honest heroes. She aims to get readers thinking about life and love while experiencing her characters’ journeys.

  She is continuously creating stories as she daydreams. Her other loves are country music, exploring the outdoors, and reading.

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