Fearless

by Abby Brooks

  And yet…

  …here I was.

  Involved.

  Evie grimaced. “I promise not to be a repeat of that. In fact, my magic hooha offers its services as often as you need to make sure you meet this deadline without issue.”

  I shoved the last several bites of dinner into my mouth, chewing as fast as I could, then held up my hand as our waiter passed. “Check, please!”

  Her chest heaved. Her eyes flashed. Her nipples pebbled as I skated my lips along her skin. Soft. Delicate. Slow.

  I would savor her. Sipping at pleasure the way I sipped whiskey. My dick strained against my pants as I lowered her to my bed, her hair fanning out across my pillows, her eyes on me, screaming that she was mine, mine, mine.

  I traced a finger along her inner thigh, and she trembled, arching her back in anticipation, only to groan as I pressed a kiss to her belly, her ribs, her throat. The room throbbed with want, a pulsing energy pressing us together, but I refused to succumb. I wanted her dripping. Quivering. On the edge. I wanted her body to sing for mine. To watch her tremble and quake, her eyes hooded with want…for me. Tonight wasn’t about sex. This was about how she made me feel. How I wanted to make her feel. This was about the two of us, coming together, saying everything words couldn’t.

  I want you, said the slow slip of my finger.

  I need you, said the brush of my lips.

  I think I’m falling in love with you, said my hand fisting in her hair.

  I know, said the arch of her back, the whimper in her throat.

  I know, said the clash of our bodies.

  I know, said the quiver in her legs.

  If she could hold on two more weeks, everything would go back to normal.

  Just two more weeks.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Evie

  I woke before my alarm and rolled over to find myself alone in bed. A note rested on Alex’s pillow with his messy script dancing across the page.

  My muse,

  The hardest thing I’ve ever done was walk away from you this morning. Your hair begged to be caressed. Your lips begged to be kissed. Your breasts spilled from your shirt and…well, you get the drift. You’re freaking sexy, but words must happen. In case you couldn’t tell, I’m head over heels for you and falling farther every day.

  Yours for as long as you’ll have me,

  Lord and Master, Sir Alexander Prescott the Glorious

  I pressed the note to my chest and flopped back on my pillow with a sigh before climbing out of bed to start my day. Another note waited for me in the bathroom, taped to the mirror, with a heart and smiley face drawn on the glass with dry erase markers. Giddy and grinning, I read the note.

  Roses are red, violets are blue, the best thing about me is the day I met you.

  He’d drawn a winky face at the bottom of the page and I could just imagine him giggling like a child as he wrote the ridiculous poem. I shoved the paper into the pocket of my PJ pants, brushed my teeth, then headed downstairs in search of coffee, only to pull up short when I found a note on each stair leading to the first floor. Each page contained only one word, and by the time I got to the landing, they formed a single sentence.

  In case you couldn’t tell, I want you to know how much I care about you.

  Another note dangled in the doorway leading from the dining room to the kitchen.

  A lot. I care a lot.

  And one last note waited for me by the coffee maker, with a single red rose sitting in a vase.

  Evie-

  I hope you don’t mind, but I made an appointment for you today. Normally, I wouldn’t presume to dictate your schedule, but this is an extraordinary circumstance and I hope you’ll forgive me. In exchange for promising my agent the book would be done on time, I had her reach out to Harlow West and ask if the two of you could sync up sometime. Mrs. West proved to be perfectly lovely and in need of a reason to visit New England, so she flew in from the Keys this morning and will be waiting for you at Brewhaha—the coffee shop on Main Street—at noon. It’s been all I could do not to spill the beans ever since she confirmed last week. I have my phone turned off so I can focus, but I’ll power it back on around 2 to check in on you. Please enjoy your day and know that you’re always on my mind.

  XO

  Alex

  I read the note three times before I dropped it to the counter, screamed, and danced in place. Harlow West was here. In Wildrose Landing. To meet…me. Me! The woman who lost her job due to a case of terminal taupeness was now consulting on an upcoming release from a critically acclaimed bestselling author and had a meeting with Harlow freaking West in a couple hours.

  I screamed again, flinging my arms overhead and spinning in a circle to scatter exclamation points before I finally got control of myself and shot Alex a text.

  Me: I know you won’t see this because your phone is off but OMG THANK YOU. I am so lucky to have met you, Alex. Like, so freaking lucky. And not just because you pulled some strings and got me a coffee date with HARLOW FREAKING WEST!!! But because you’re good to me and I really like you and I love the way your brain works… I’d go on, but just know that you’ve made me so amazingly happy.

  I hit send without overanalyzing every word I wrote, then dashed upstairs, surprised when my phone buzzed with a reply.

  Alex: So, I may have cheated and turned on my phone just in case you reached out. Enjoy yourself today, my muse. Be bold. Be brave. Be you. Know that your mind is just as magnificent as hers. Most importantly, know that my heart is with you today.

  I grinned so hard all I could do was send Alex a string of emojis, then stood in front of my closet, wondering how one prepared for a meeting with an idol.

  Turned out, preparing for a meeting with an idol included a lot of second guessing and the trying on of multiple outfits before finally remembering Alex’s advice.

  Be bold. Be brave. Be you.

  It was like he knew I was learning to be fearless and helping me in my search.

  “Bold, brave, fearless. That’s me,” I whispered, pulling out my favorite oversized sweater with chunky blue, white, and gray stripes. I paired it with jeans and ankle boots, then added a long necklace and earrings that caught the light. I left my hair natural and swiped on some makeup, then stood back to appraise myself in the mirror.

  “Stylish yet casual, if I do say so myself.” I smiled at my reflection, took a big breath, then headed for Brewhaha. As I entered, my eyes went straight to the woman with the white-blonde hair nursing her coffee at a table in the back. Harlow freaking West. She smiled, waved, and stood as I made my way to her.

  “Evie McAllister?” Her blue eyes sparkled in the light and as I extended my hand, I realized how starstruck I was because no one’s eyes actually sparkled. (Except maybe hers.)

  “That’s me! It’s such a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. West.”

  “Please,” she said with a grin. “Call me Harlow.”

  I shook her hand, ordered my coffee, and sat down to a surprisingly easy conversation. We talked about writing, about life, about everything she experienced as she met her husband and wrote her book. When the topic turned to me, she listened intently and asked gentle, probing questions.

  “Alex said you’re a damn good writer, but you’re dealing with a ton of self-doubt right now. Take it from the queen of self-doubt, sometimes you just have to take a deep breath and power through.” Harlow shrugged. “I always surprise myself on the other side. I’m sure you will, too.”

  When the meeting was over, I left feeling like I’d made a new friend and could conquer the world. The second I sat down in my car, I called Alex. He answered on the first ring.

  “So? How’d it go?”

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you for that.” I paused as I navigated out of the parking lot and onto Main Street. “Do you have a minute? Can I come by and thank you in person? I promise I won’t stay long.”

  “I set aside the afternoon for you. So get your cute butt over here and tell me all
about it.”

  When I pulled into Alex’s drive, he was waiting on the porch. I ran to him and he swept me into his arms. “Do you see it yet?” He cupped my face and kissed me slow and deep. “Do you see how special you are?”

  I smiled against his lips. “Don’t be silly…”

  He silenced me with a kiss. “If you don’t see it yet, then I’m not doing my job well enough because you are the best thing that ever happened to me. Every day is better because you’re in it.”

  I tried to protest, but Alex lifted me into his arms, then carried me into the house and up to his room, where we celebrated a great day with our cute couple thing.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Evie

  Three days passed. Alex was in the zone, delivering pages and pages of new work to me every morning. I’d sit down at the table with my red pen, making as many notes as I could manage while counting down the hours until I saw him again. This morning, coffee steamed in a mug at my side and snow filtered to the ground outside the window as I read through his latest additions. Gone were the days of pristine sentences navigating a sterile plot. The story commandeered my attention, even in its rough draft form. This might be his best work yet—

  My pen clattered to the table. My jaw dropped. My heart? It stopped, then sped up so fast I saw stars as I read and reread a clump of bracketed text—a note Alex left for himself he’d forgotten to delete.

  Consider using Evie’s story here. Change deets, obvs. But Austin was right. The theft of her work is hugely compelling and would make a great pivot point.

  The pen hit the floor before I knew it rolled off the table. I was in the living room before I knew I’d left the kitchen. Behind the wheel before I knew what I was doing, and knocking on Amelia’s door before I was aware an hour had passed.

  “Evie?” She took one look at my face and swung the door open wide. “What happened?”

  “Nothing.” I paced the living room I used to call home. “Everything.”

  She closed the door and waited for me to stop moving. “Is this an ice cream and Dirty Dancing kind of nothing-slash-everything? Or a tequila and drum circle kind of nothing-slash-everything?”

  I stopped and stared at my friend. “I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

  I trusted Alex. I trusted him with the parts of me I swore I’d never give to anyone and he knew, he knew how hard it was for me to share that story….

  “Are you pregnant?”

  “What?” I recoiled. “No.”

  “Okay. Good. Then this calls for tequila.” Amelia swept into the kitchen and returned with a bottle and two shot glasses.

  I stared at the liquor. The last thing I needed was to muddle my thoughts when I couldn’t even make sense of how I was feeling. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

  But I wasn’t good. Not at all. And the tears I furiously blinked away ratted me out.

  “You look furious.”

  I explained what I’d found in Alex’s manuscript. “I mean, it’s just a note. A thought. The scene doesn’t actually exist, but I’m so uncomfortable with that story making it into his book….” I plopped onto the couch and rested my elbows on my knees.

  Amelia put the bottle and shot glasses on her coffee table then perched beside me. “What did he say when you brought it up?”

  I stared at the ground for a long time, chewing on my bottom lip.

  “You did bring it up, didn’t you?”

  “I was so upset, I just drove right here, without even worrying about the communism being too long.” I gave her a weak smile as I offered our silly joke and Amelia wrapped me in a hug.

  She brushed my hair off my face. “I understand why you’re so upset, but you need to be talking to Alex about this, not me.”

  “I know I do.” I took in a shuddering breath. “But what if I misjudged him? I mean, this is the guy who let the entire town think my house was haunted so he could keep getting what he wanted. What if I tell him how I feel, and he uses the scene anyway?”

  “What if he doesn’t?”

  “But what if he does?”

  My anxiety ran away with my logic. All I could remember was the humiliation of being used by Drew and never paying attention to the signs he’d dropped along the way. Because in the end? Looking back? They were there. I chose not to see what a terrible person he was, and therefore, in a way, I chose to allow him to steal my book.

  What if I was doing the same damn thing with Alex?

  “Evie. Sweetie. Love. You have to talk to him about this. You can’t let your fear of the confrontation keep you from speaking your needs. You have to step up, be fearless, and tell him why this won’t work for you. How can he know how much it bothers you if you don’t use your voice?”

  I dropped my head into my hands. “I shouldn’t have to tell him. He should just know.”

  “But…should he?” Amelia used a high, squeaky voice that told me she really didn’t buy the premise of my statement.

  I stood and flung out my arms. “Yes! He should! A few days after I told him the story, he blurted it out to all our friends. I was so mad, so mad. I told him point blank I wasn’t okay with telling people about what happened. I need him to know that putting my story in his book would hurt, because I need to know he understands me.”

  “I get that. I do. But you still need to talk to him. You’re jumping to conclusions and you haven’t even read the scene yet.”

  My jaw dropped. “Whose team are you on, here?”

  “Yours. I’m team Evie, all the way. But if you don’t talk to him about this, you’re not being fair to Alex, and you’re not being fair to you.” She crossed the room and took my hands. “You’re not being very fearless right now.”

  I didn’t need Amelia to tell me I was wrong. I needed her to tell me I was seeing things clearly, maybe for the first time. Her statements only added to my confusion.

  “It was a mistake for me to come here.” I yanked away and moved for the door. “I just got in my car and drove and didn’t even bother to call.” My gaze glued itself to the floor. “I’m really sorry to interrupt your night.”

  Run away, run away, run. It’s what you’re good at, after all, whispered the angel of self-doubt.

  “Evie…”

  “No. It’s okay. I’m just gonna go…” I wrapped Amelia in a quick hug, then got the hell out of there before she could say anything else.

  While the drive to Amelia’s was over before I knew it began, the drive back to Wildrose lasted an eternity. My anxiety played tricks with time. Minutes lasted hours and my heart questioned everything that happened in the last few months. Snow crunched under my boots as I made my way up to my porch, stomping my feet on the mat before stepping inside and heading upstairs. A minute after my bedroom light turned on, I got a text from Alex.

  I needed to make some changes to the manuscript. The door was unlocked, so I let myself in and grabbed it. Will return tomorrow. I missed you something big today. Life loses its color without you around to brighten things up.

  I spread the curtains and found him staring out his window. He lifted a hand and blew me a kiss. I echoed the movement, then texted him goodnight before laying down to wait for sleep.

  I’d talk to him in the morning. No matter how badly the prospect scared me, I owed it to both of us to talk to him about how finding his note made me feel. I’d do it as soon as he returned the manuscript. Just flip to the note and mention how I’d rather he not use my story in his book.

  That shouldn’t be too hard. In fact, it should be easy. He’d hug me and tell me it never occurred to him and promise to take it out. I’d be proud of my fearless self and we could go on the way we had been, like nothing ever happened.

  Only, when Alex handed me the manuscript in the morning, the bracketed note was gone. Relief washed through me. He must have thought better of the idea and took it out. For half a second, I considered bringing it up anyway, but why rock the boat? Especially since he’d already solved the problem? Instead, I
gave him a kiss, hugged the manuscript to my chest and promised myself never to bring it up again.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Alex

  Evie had been weird for the last couple days. Her smile was too bright. Her words too cheerful. She didn’t always look me in the eyes, and when she did, I caught glimpses of something heavy. She was hiding something from me, but I had no idea what it could be.

  Part of me was afraid she’d seen that stupid note I left in the manuscript, but I kept telling myself she’d have said something if that was true. The idea had come to me in the middle of writing a scene and I’d left a bracketed note so my mind wouldn’t fixate on it and I could move on. I could never include Evie’s story as a plot point. It was too personal, and she’d made it crystal clear how she felt about the topic after I spilled the beans at Cheers ‘n Beers. I’d intended to delete the note after I finished writing for the day, but had tumbled into bed exhausted instead.

  A much bigger part of me insisted Evie thought I’d abandoned her in favor of my manuscript. That for as much as I hoped she understood, for as much as she said she understood, it still hurt too much to wait for my attention. I knew that feeling too well. I resented my dad for never being around when I was little, especially after Mom fell off the edge. When I realized my personality shared that flaw with his, I tried to cut him some slack…I just couldn’t.

  There was only a week and a half until my deadline came due. A week and a half of hard work before I could finally emerge from the office and give Evie the attention she deserved. She’d hold on that long. I was sure of it.

  “Right?” I asked Morgan, who looked up from his place on the floor. “Everything will be fine as soon as I’m done.”