mark on the book world, and I have.
When I met Sebastian yesterday, I thought he was the biggest asshole I’d ever met. When he yelled his coffee order at me this morning, I still thought that. But now… maybe not so much.
I end up ordering a peppermint tea to go and head home to review the questions I wanted to ask Sebastian but didn’t get a chance to this morning.
Once I’m inside my apartment, I kick off my shoes, grab the throw rug off the back of the couch, and hunker down with my notebook and my phone. Skimming through what I wrote during our conversation brings up a question I hadn’t previously thought of. So, I shoot Sebastian a text, just like he told me to.
ME: Hey, it’s Emory. I have some new questions for you.
Was writing something you always wanted to do? And as an extension of that question, did you pursue literary courses at college?
I’m surprised when the little bubbles pop up immediately, letting me know he’s already replying.
SEBASTIAN: No. I’d honestly never thought about writing before, let alone becoming a published author. And I didn’t go to college.
He didn’t go to college? For some reason, I get caught up on that the most. Why didn’t he go to college?
ME: Sorry. I’d just assumed you had.
SEBASTIAN: It’s okay. Most people in America go. I’m just not one of them.
ME: Do you mind if I ask why? If that’s too personal, forget I asked. I’m simply curious.
This time, he doesn’t reply straight away. Shit. It was too personal. Or maybe he’s just busy, like he said he’d be? I chew on my thumbnail and watch my cell screen, hoping to see those little speech dots appear.
But five minutes later, there’s still nothing.
I’m staring at my phone when Lennon busts through the front door. “Oh, hey,” I call as she rushes past me and heads down the hallway. Her cheeks are rosy, her eyes are wide, and her hair looks like she’s been running her hands through it repeatedly. All of which is very out of character for her, so I get up and follow her.
“Hey, you okay?” I ask, poking my head into her room.
Len spins around with a hand over her heart, her eyes wide. “Holy shit! Where did you come from?”
Frowning, I hook a thumb over my shoulder. “I was in the lounge. I said, ‘Hi,’ but you didn’t hear me. Everything alright?”
Her shoulders drop, and her breathing evens out. “Yep. Just fucking peachy.”
“Mm-kay,” I murmur because, clearly, everything is not peachy. “You want to talk about it?”
She runs both her hands through her long, dark-purple hair and grips her skull. “No, I’ve talked enough, and I can’t talk about it anymore or I’ll lose my goddamned mind. I am so done with this day.”
Right. This situation calls for drastic measures. I take a deep breath then run at Lennon, crash-tackle-hugging her. We fall onto her bed, and I wrap my arms and legs around her stiff body so she can’t get away from me.
“Jesus, Emory, let me go!” she yells and squirms around.
“Nope, you need a hug,” I say, tightening my hold.
“I don’t need a fucking hug. I need a drink!” she argues.
But she relaxes slightly, enough that I loosen my grip a little. “You don’t have to talk about it, but I’d like you to answer one question.”
“What?” she grinds out.
“Is this work-related or man-related?” I ask.
She heaves a sigh and says, “Both.”
“Damn, okay, drinks it is! I’ll call Kins and get her to pick up supplies on her way home.”
Lennon grunts. “Good, now get off of me. I’ve got shit to do. I’m going to work from home for the rest of the day.”
I smile, smack a big kiss to her cheek, then release her. She shoves me away with a roll of her eyes, and I leave her to her business.
When I return to the couch and pick up my cell, there’s a new text.
SEBASTIAN: It’s complicated. Next question...
Well, that’s a disappointing answer. But it’s not like I need it to write my article about him; I was just being nosy. So, I accept his brush-off on the topic and move on to the next one.
ME: Your characters Lacey and Hudson come from different backgrounds. Lacey is from a life of privilege while Hudson has had to fight for everything he has. They are essentially complete opposites. Do you believe in the age-old adage that opposites attract? Explain.
After sending the text, I