stopped by the tattoo shop to check on her, she had been busy with work, trying to make up the time, or so she’d said. Quite frankly, I was pretty sure she was avoiding me. But I couldn’t be sure and I damn sure wasn’t going to be that guy. The last thing I would do was grovel at some woman’s feet to get her to pay attention.
I needed Presley to want me the way I wanted her, without me having to coerce her.
Didn’t look as though that was going to happen, and honestly, I was fucking tired of thinking about it.
As I lay on my brand-new couch, staring up at the freshly painted ceiling some thirty feet above my head, I contemplated all of the things I could do to pass the time. I’d already hung up all of the pictures I’d bought from Gavin, turning one wall into a collage of spray-painted designs. Josie had helped me pick out some furniture since most of it was already gone, donated to a church that would auction it off to raise money for a teen retreat this summer.
I had to admit, the place felt more like me, but something was still missing, and I got the feeling that it wasn’t a material item. It was Presley. Only there was nothing I could do to change that.
My cell phone rang, and I nearly launched myself off the couch, grateful for something to do. I grabbed it from the coffee table and glanced at the screen before hitting the talk button.
“Liz,” I greeted, trying to sound happy to talk to her.
“You sound good,” she said, her tone chipper. “Please tell me that’s because you finished the book and you’re now planning to take some time to yourself right after you send it to my email.”
“Not yet,” I admitted. I still had at least two more chapters to tie everything up, but I was stuck, unsure which direction I wanted to go.
Admittedly, writing shorter books wasn’t easy for me, but it was all I seemed to have in me right now, so I was learning to deal.
“Well, I love what you sent me. And I think it’ll only take you a day or two to tie it up.”
“Probably,” I agreed. “As soon as I feel the characters again.”
“Have you thought about letting Josie read it? Or what about Presley?”
After I’d returned from the cabin, I’d told Liz about the impromptu trip and how my desire to write had come back during that time. At first, she’d asked me why I hadn’t just stayed put and finished the story, then she had grilled me about my relationship with Presley. I’d told her as much as I was willing to.
“No, actually, I haven’t,” I told her now, flopping back and glancing down at the notebook on the table.
“One of them might be able to give you some ideas.”
True. Josie was usually a great beta reader, offering tons of feedback, helping me to walk through the story and see it from the reader’s perspective. As for Presley, I had no idea what type of feedback she might provide.
That was, if she even cared to read it.
Liz’s tone softened. “I don’t mean to be a pain in the ass, Jake, but I really do have to have this finished in a week. We’ve got the first-pass editor lined up already.”
“I know.” I sighed. I had never missed a deadline yet, but I knew that Liz was thinking the same thing I was… There was no way I would get this done. I sat up. “I’ll call Presley and see if she’ll read it.”
“Great.” The chipper note was back, as though that was going to solve all of our problems.
A knock sounded on my door, and I quickly told Liz I had to go, springing to my feet and making my way over. I didn’t even bother looking through the security hole, not caring who it was, just content someone had come over.
When I opened it, my heart began to race, seeing Presley standing there, a warm smile on her face.
She held up a bag. “Brought dinner.”
I studied her for a moment, tried not to be too happy that she’d come to me again.
Shrugging it off, I decided to go for cordial. “As long as it’s not tofu…”
Her face fell and she turned around to walk away. Before I could tell her I was joking, she pivoted back around.