The Boy Who Has No Hope (Soulless #6) - Victoria Quinn Page 0,28
and we’re so close now…I thought it would be the best time to ask you for a favor…if you would sign my books.”
His chest rose and fell at a quicker pace as he lifted his gaze to look at me. He stared endlessly, the seconds trickling by until an entire minute had passed. Without blinking, he held my gaze, his emotional response so slight but so powerful at the same time. Once his breathing had quickened, it started to slow again…returning back to his state of calm.
It was one of the rare times when I couldn’t read him, when his complex thoughts and emotions were impossible for me to decipher. I slid the first book across the table toward him then grabbed a permanent marker and some pens for him to choose from.
He dropped his gaze and looked at the first hardback for a while before he brought it closer. He opened the first page and looked at the publishing information, reacting slightly when he realized it was a first edition, that I’d bought it years ago.
I noticed he didn’t have copies of his own novels in his penthouse, not on display or in his bedroom, unless they were in one of the drawers of his dresser. He wasn’t an egotistical person who overemphasized his accomplishments, so perhaps that was why they weren’t on display.
He grabbed a pen then brought the book closer, turning it sideways so he could write on the page nearly upside down.
“You’re left-handed…I never noticed that before. But why are you writing like that?” He never turned his papers sideways when he did his work in the lab. He obviously didn’t do that on the whiteboard either.
“I’ll smudge the ink.” He stared at the blank page for a while, like he was thinking of what to say.
I went quiet so he could focus.
His pen didn’t hit the paper.
I looked at my phone so he wouldn’t feel on display.
Then he capped the pen and closed the book, even though he hadn’t written anything. “I just need some time.”
I turned back to him and watched him stack the books before sliding them to the side.
“I know you don’t sign books often…if ever. If you don’t feel comfortable, you aren’t obligated—”
“That’s not why. I just…want to take some time to make sure it’s right.” He stared at the books, his chin slightly down.
I stared at his handsome face for a while, seeing the emotion in his eyes, the way the gesture touched him. As time went on, he became more vulnerable with me, showing me a spectrum of different colors that started to shine through brighter. There was more to him than his dark exterior, like his soul was a diamond…and a prism of color.
He cleared his throat before he turned back to me, like the moment had dissipated.
“There’s another reason why I’m here.”
His eyes narrowed slightly on my face, becoming intense all over again.
“So, I talked to Mark…”
His face immediately slackened into disappointment, as if he’d been hoping I’d say something else.
“They want you to do some press for this book. You know, book signings, interviews…stuff like that.”
He slowly turned hostile, just as I expected. “I don’t do that.”
“I know…but they say since you took so long with the manuscript, they’ve lost traction on sales and there were a lot of complaints from readers and retailers. They need to do some damage control, get people interested in this story again. Since I’ve already edited the story, I know they’re going to release this much sooner than normal. Having you do these things will make people forget how long they had to wait and focus their energy by getting them excited for the next installment.”
His eyes shifted away. “No.”
“Derek—”
“I told them I don’t do this. I’m sorry the book was late, that was my fault, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to do this in atonement. It’ll be obvious I don’t want to be there, and instead of getting people excited about it, they’re just going to think I’m an asshole—which is fair, because I am.”
“You are not an asshole, Derek.”
“I disagree.”
“It won’t be as bad as you think it will be.”
He looked away.
“I will be with you the entire time.”
“But I’ll be the one who has to sign the books. I’ll be the one who has to answer the questions.”
“I’ll prep you for it.”
He sighed loudly.
“I know, without a doubt, that you can do this. It won’t be as bad as you think it will be. You’re uncomfortable