Apparently, I was a moron.
I watched Aaris and Max, whispering to each other with their heads pressed together and I wondered how they got through dinners out in public without tearing each other’s clothes off the first chance they got.
With my head down, I glanced over at Jake in a black crew neck sweater that was once again, a size too small. If I knew that I was going to be going home to Gigantor, I wouldn’t even make it to the drink order. Hell, we’d never eat out because I’d keep him handcuffed to my bed.
That is, if I had actual feelings for him.
Which I didn’t.
He was just a friend.
A friend I wanted to see naked.
I groaned and the hand on my chair moved up to rest against my neck. “What’s wrong? Just realized you’re going to have to eat this shit and pretend to like it?”
I blinked and turned toward him, hoping that my expression didn’t give away my thoughts. “I was just thinking… about Jessa. I feel like we’re close, but it’s just not coming together as quickly as I’d hoped.”
His greenish-brown eyes stared back at me with an intensity that was almost too much to take. “You in that big of a hurry to get rid of me?”
I couldn’t decide if I was imagining the worried tone in his voice or not. If I was playing it cool, I would’ve made a joke about how he took too long in the bathroom or how he’d convinced my cat to change allegiance only hours after arriving. Something to convince him that I didn’t care.
Instead, I whispered, “No, you big lug. How am I going to live without you?” I meant it to be funny, but my voice caught, and my vision swam with tears. I rolled my shoulders away from his grip and stared down into my lap. I was probably about to get my period and when it happened, I’d exclaim, “So, that’s why I’ve been a weepy disaster. It had nothing to do with Jake. It was just my ovaries the entire time!”
I reluctantly looked up, expecting to see the familiar smirk and to hear a comment about how crazy he thought I was.
To my surprise, Jake wasn’t smiling. The expression on his face was unreadable. He continued watching me, struggling to find the right words. His Adam’s apple moved up and then down, but he stayed silent.
I couldn’t say another word. I’d feel stupid.
Actually, I already felt stupid. And awkward. I turned away and dabbed at my eyes with the linen napkin before smiling brightly at the waiter as he placed the appetizers in the center of the table.
“This looks amazing. Thank you!” I’d just taken a sip from my martini when I noticed his name tag. I inhaled sharply and began coughing violently.
Dusk.
The waiter’s name was Dusk. Jake pounded me on the back while I tried to figure out if this was something I’d conjured or just a random coincidence.
I hoped it was the latter because this Dusk was tall but lanky and he was lacking the man bun that I’d imagined. I wiped at my streaming eyes and waited until he was gone before looking up again.
Aaris and Max were still lost in their own little vegan love nest, oblivious to everyone around them. Meanwhile, Jake continued to stare off into space, his nostrils flaring out with each exhale.
He got like this when faced with a problem.
If he was feeling stuck on a case, he’d sit at his desk and just zone out, trying to find the solution somewhere inside his head. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking about, but I wasn’t sure I’d like the answer.
He was going to leave eventually, and it was going to smash my heart into pieces. But, right now, he was here, and I wanted to enjoy every second that I still had him.
Damn the consequences.
I rested my hand on his thigh and the muscle immediately stiffened. “Did you try the avocado?”
Jake stared down at my hand and then slowly brought his eyes back up to meet mine. “No,” he finally managed. “It’s good?”
I nodded. “So good.”
I didn’t know if it was good or not. It was taking every ounce of focus to keep my hand exactly where it was. I was caught between wanting to yank it back as though I’d been burned and needing to sink my fingers into his flesh, stroking and petting. Up and down… up and down…
Jake stood up with a loud sigh. “I—I need the men’s room. I’ll just be—” He clicked his tongue against his teeth and all but ran away from me.
My chest tightened as I watched him disappear, taking my time to appreciate the way his jeans cupped his ass. I looked down at my hand in wonder and suppressed a soft giggle.
How had something so small just taken down Grande the Giant?
“You go on inside. I need to visit with Max.” Jake guided me into the living room and then shut the door behind me.
He’d been on edge for the remainder of dinner and nothing seemed to cheer him up; not even a pit stop on the way home at the burger joint he loved. I still wasn’t sure how he’d choked down a burger and fries on top of the stuffed avocado, two plates of nachos, chickpea stroganoff, coconut cream pie, and chocolate cheesecake he’d had at the restaurant.
I didn’t know what had gotten into me, but I’d gone out of my way to touch him as often as I could.
He wanted the salt? I’d brush my fingers against his as I passed it. Dropped his napkin? I deftly slipped mine onto his lap, patting it down for good measure.
Friends touched each other.
Usually, it didn’t leave one friend with a strong need for an edible and a vibrator though. On autopilot, I checked Bootsy’s food and water before making my way into the bedroom.
I needed to get a thousand words down to stay on pace, but I was antsy.
Restless.
I took the pile of clean clothes that had been wadded up into a ball from the ottoman and began hanging them up. Once that was done, I made the bed. My clothes suddenly felt scratchy against my skin, the friction making me crazy.
Well, crazier than normal.
Perhaps, all the touching had been a bad plan.
I needed to be writing. That would help take my mind off of… whatever this was. I grabbed my laptop and sank down on top of the down comforter.
I wrote a couple of paragraphs before groaning in frustration. The sexual tension between Jessa and Detective Keller was too much. I was trying to write a damn cozy mystery, but they were fighting me every step of the way.
I checked my watch. Jake was still with Max. Who knew how long that would take—maybe hours. If I closed the door and turned off the light, he’d just assume I was asleep, right?
I closed the bedroom door with a soft click. My heart raced in anticipation as I turned off the lights and stripped down to bare skin, while Bootsy scratched at the door, demanding to be let in.
I just needed a few minutes with Tumblr and my vibrator and then I’d deal with the little Khaleesi. I opened my underwear drawer and evaluated the arsenal of toys.
What to take?
I passed over the plethora of vibrating eggs and rabbits, going for the Feminizer. It was my go-to in a pinch.
“Guaranteed to get you off in sixty seconds or less,” I sang as I climbed under the comforter and settled against the pillows with my phone.
The man in the first video looked like Jake, with his scruffy face and starched dress shirt and instead of scrolling down to the next one, I paused, fascinated by the way he unbuttoned his shirt. His hands traced his partner’s face and his tongue circled hers. He closed his mouth around it and I exhaled shakily as he drew it into his mouth.
Jake had done that.
No, I wasn’t thinking of that right now. I was thinking of this nice gentleman, Dmitri and his lover, Tatiana. His tongue moved down her body and her head fell back at the same time mine did. That Dmitri really seemed to know what he was doing.
I reached between my legs and, as I increased the speed, the persistent whir began to fill the room. I had to hurry. Jake was going to be back at any second and it sounded like I was piloting a drone in here.
Tatiana repaid Dmit
ri before climbing up his body and I increased the speed again. “C’mon,” I murmured. “Sooo close.”
Dmitri thrust his hips up and Tatiana’s mouth fell open. I came with a deep exhale and a death grip on my phone. It wasn’t thoughts of Dmitri or Tatiana that pushed me over the edge. It had been Jake.
It was the way he walked around with confidence that life wasn’t going to throw anything his way that he couldn’t handle and the smirk that seemed permanently etched onto his face. And there was a glint that only seemed to appear when his eyes landed on me. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but it seemed important.
The handle on the bedroom door began to turn and I frantically held the power button down on the vibrator. It switched off just as the door swung open, sending a sliver of light across my face.
“Hayden? Are you asleep?” Jake stepped into the room holding a bowl in his hand.
“No,” I mumbled as I pulled the comforter up to my chin, effectively hiding myself and any evidence of what I’d been doing before he arrived. “What do you have?”
He held up the bowl. “I thought you were up late working, so I brought you some writing fuel—Lucky Charms, no milk.”
When he extended the bowl toward me, I shook my head. “Can you just put it on the, um, dresser? I’m not—I’m not wearing anything, right now.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “You’re not wearing clothes, but you weren’t sleeping? What exactly have you been doing?”
Shit. Why hadn’t I just said that I was sleeping?
“I was… I was researching a… sex scene for Angel of Death.” My face heated. I hadn’t meant to say that either.
• Confession: ‘Research’ was code for, “I’m going to look at Tumblr and get myself off a few dozen times in between word sprints.” It was sort of a Friday afternoon stress-reliever.
Jake flipped the switch to the overhead, bathing us both in light. “Okay, as much as I want to get into the reasons that you would be researching a sex scene for your non-sexy cozy mystery, I did come in here for a reason.”
To tell me that you can’t stop thinking about our kiss from a month ago and when I touched you at dinner, it ignited all of your pent-up lust?
“We found another note. It was left on your car. I saw it when we pulled up but didn’t want to alarm you. Max is looking into what it might mean—”
I interjected, “What it might mean? Is it not the straightforward, ‘You will die in seven days?’ Or did they rhyme it again? Because that really takes the threat out of it, you know?”
He sat down on the side of the bed and scratched at his jaw, crushing my toes beneath his glorious ass. “It said, ‘The curse is come upon me,’ does that mean anything to you?”
I shook my head and he continued, “Exactly. I’m not entirely sure it’s even related to the other things that have happened, but Max wants to check it out…”
Jake’s voice trailed off and I realized with horror that his focus was on the nightstand next to me; specifically, the still open underwear drawer that doubled as a toy factory.
His lips parted and he leaned in. “Fuck, Hayden.”
I was suddenly hyperaware of my own heartbeat and the flush that was working its way up to my hairline. “That’s… personal.” With a pant, I stretched out to close it, but my arm fell short.
He stood up and walked over, staring down into the depths like it was a treasure chest. And it was. For me.
“Jake,” I warned.
Please don’t make fun of me.
He ran a hand over his face before pushing the drawer closed. “Just get dressed. I’ll be out in the living room.”
The door slammed shut behind him and I rubbed my damp hands on the comforter. Well, that had gone about as well as I expected.
Next time someone barged in on me masturbating and asked if I’d been sleeping, I was definitely going to save myself the trouble and say yes.
My phone lit up under the blankets and began vibrating. I reluctantly pulled it free to see that it was my mother calling me. At ten o’clock on a Saturday. The lust was replaced with a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach as I let it go to voicemail.
I couldn’t talk to her right now. I was too keyed up. I stared blankly at the phone until it chirped with a voicemail notification. Knowing it was best to rip the band-aid off, I hit play.
“Hayden, I’m sure you’re out right now, but listen— your dad and I were talking to Reid and Emily and they found a great place up in the mountains. I hate to do this, but we’re going to cancel our annual Thanksgiving get-together next month and do that instead. We’d love to have you join us, but you’ll have to purchase your own ticket and pay part of the cabin fee. Let Reid know; he can give you a breakdown on costs. Also, let me know if you’re still coming on the twentieth. I’m trying to get a final head count for the caterers.”
I balled my hands into fists and inhaled slowly. It was so typical of Reid to plan these big family trips that I couldn’t afford. He knew it too.
I pulled a sports bra on and then stomped into the closet for some clothes. My brother was the worst. I grabbed a handful of dry cereal and angrily crunched on it as I walked into the living room.
Jake was pacing the living room in a similar fashion. “It took you long enough. Okay, we need to figure out what this latest note means.”
He grabbed a pen and began sketching out some sort of diagram on a scrap of paper. The pen ripped through the paper and he let out a low growl of frustration.
“Your energy is terrible.”
He clenched his jaw before biting out, “And why do you think that is, Hayden? Could it be because we're a month into this and still no closer to finding out who wants you dead? We've stuck with your routine and, short of announcing to the world where you're going—” He froze.
"What?" I protested over a mouthful of cereal. "What are you thinking?"
He dropped his pen. "God, it was right in front of me the whole time. Have you ever done a signing?"
I began shaking my head before he had a chance to finish his sentence. “No, no. No. I can’t do a signing. I can't talk about the books.”
Jake pulled his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You wrote them. Of course you can talk about them.”
“But, but,” I spluttered. “What if they ask questions?”
He blinked slowly. “Come again?”
“You know... questions. Like, why did you write this book? Tell me the plot.”
“Okay, there was only one question in there. If they ask you about your books, you just talk about them. You wrote the damn things; it's not like they're asking you to explain quantum physics.”
“No," I whisper hissed. "I can't talk to people. You went to ‘Detective class,’ so it’s easy for you. You write so that you can tell people a story without having to look them in the eye while doing it.”
Jake smirked. “Detective class? Jesus, Hayden. You don’t even know what I went through to get where I am? That’s like interviewing Hawking and only noting that he had a cool wheelchair.”
I shook my head again. “I can’t do it, Jake. I can’t. I’m not ready.”
“What do you mean, you’re not ready? You’ve written six books and you’re in the middle of your seventh. I think that just screams ready. This is good. We’ll get you in front of your fans and see if we can’t trap ourselves a stalker.”
I frowned and looked down at my t-shirt. “But, what do I wear? Do I have to go find people to talk to, or will they come to me? What if they ask me to be friends? Do I say yes? Or stay professional?”
"You don't get out much, do you?" Jake noted with a heavy sigh.
Eighteen
“I think this looks great.” Jake stood back and surveyed the table with an appreciative nod.
The bastard had done it. He had finagled an invitation to one of the biggest indie signings in the country. Last-minute. We’d gotten in an hour ago and gone straight up to the signing floor for set up.
>
The majority of the tables had been set up the night before and seemed to be geared toward the romance genre, but Jake had convinced me that even if they didn’t come for the Detective Hopkins novels, the Blood Letters trilogy would draw them in.
I’d wanted to puke since we landed and even more so once I saw the way the other tables looked. Some had mini neon signs that flashed while others had elaborate table decorations and intricate book stands.
I took in the hotel-provided plain white tablecloth and the books resting on the cheapest bookstands I could find. I didn’t even have a banner or bookmarks to hand out.
My table was like Cinderella, pre-fairy godmother. What if the readers came up and saw that my table didn’t have those things? What if they demanded that I produce one or be kicked out the event?
I pointed at the tables flanking mine, suddenly wanting to run for the exit. “I don’t have a sign with my name on it. How are people going to know who I am?”
“So, we’ll make one. There are enough cardboard boxes around here. We tape a few together and write your name across it—boom, done.”
I looked around at the vinyl banners and frowned. “You really think that will look like these?”
He nodded. “Yeah, it’ll be great. I’ll see if they have some markers we can use.”
I tugged at the ends of my hair nervously and tucked a few stray pieces behind my ears. I’d gotten up hours before we needed to leave so that I could painstakingly straighten each piece and put on makeup. I had discreet gold studs in my ears and a pair of black slacks; just like a real grown up.
I was going to be confident and professional. It was my big chance, and I wasn’t letting anything screw that up.
The girl at the table next to mine waved me over. The banner behind her said she was Marilyn Fox. I would’ve guessed her to be in her mid-fifties, with electric red hair that matched almost everything on her table. Judging by her book covers, she enjoyed writing about group activities. “So, you got to bring a model, huh? How’d you manage that?”
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