Naughty Neighbor - Lauren Runow Page 0,4

right. The two of us are always amazed at how you create these worlds and story lines. It’s like we want to crawl into your head and be a part of the brilliance.”

I give her a kind smile. “Says the woman who is a brilliant attorney. I want to be in your head for a day.”

Melody cheers glasses with me again, which has us both taking another sip.

With the brick of cheese in my hand, I start to run it over the sharp edges of the grater. “I think I’m just inside my head too much with this series. The first book was a huge success, and then the second book became an instant best seller. I have readers emailing me nonstop, saying how much they love these novels and that they can’t wait for the conclusion. This morning, a woman messaged me to say she is taking the day off of work on release day because she’s that excited to read the final installment. There’s so much pressure for this story to top the first two that I feel like my head is going to explode.”

Charisse leans on the counter. “You got this, Lacey. You’re an award-winning writer. The first two books came so easily to you. What makes this one different?”

I sigh before looking up at them. “I think I’m running out of ideas.”

Melody laughs. “No way. With that imagination of yours? You could write for a hundred years and still surprise the hell out of us.”

“It’s like I can’t picture the guy in my head. I don’t know who he is yet. What his quirks or mannerisms are. I don’t even know if he likes wine or whiskey.” I go back to grating, frustrated and taking it out on the cheese.

Charisse takes the brick and grater from me. “Okay, we only need enough to put on our salads. We’re not making a lasagna here.”

I chuckle under my breath as I drop my chin to my chest. “Why is my brain on lockdown?”

“Maybe it’s because you haven’t actually been on a date in eons. Have you thought about that?” Charisse asks as she puts the cheese away, taking out the romaine. “When was the last time you went on a date?”

I blow her off. “I’ve been on plenty. To a gala at an art museum, dinner on a rooftop in San Francisco—”

“Those were fictional dates in your books. When was the last time you went out with a real man?”

I grab my glass, almost too embarrassed to answer. “Not since Michael.”

Melody’s jaw drops as she looks at her wife, who nods in a knowing way and turns to me sympathetically.

“Honey, the asshole left five years ago. No wonder you’re running out of ideas. You have nothing to spark your imagination,” she says.

I purse my lips. “I read books and watch movies. Plus, I watch my couple friends. I have plenty of inspiration,” I explain.

“Why don’t you let me set you up with Tommy? He’s a good-looking guy and a successful accountant,” Melody suggests.

“Oh, he’s cute. Lacey, he’s totally your type. Thick, dark hair and these amazing hazel-greens. The whole package,” Charisse says with a glimmer to her eye.

“You are not hooking me up with a finance guy,” I deadpan.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with a businessman. Hell, you’re always writing them as these hot dominants in the bedroom. Shit, he might even be able to save you some money with those crazy-ass quarterly taxes you have to pay.” Melody nods while pointing at me with her glass in hand.

I shake my head and take a gulp. “You know, I’ve always considered you my favorite couple because you’ve never tried to set me up with someone. It’s as if the world can’t handle a twenty-eight-year-old woman without a love interest.”

Charisse pauses her chopping and tilts her head while resting the knife on the counter. Her expression has just morphed from best friend to concerned mother. “You can’t stay single forever. It’s been five years. I get it. I was there when Michael left and fucked up your world, but that was just one guy. I swear there are good ones out there. Don’t turn into your mother.”

The problem with having close friends is you let them into all aspects of your life. Even the parts you don’t want to talk about.

I’ve been content these past five years, living my life the way I want. I like not having to answer to anyone, and I don’t need a man to make