“It’s gone cold.”
“I’ll make you a new cup,” John offered.
I raised a brow. “Why are you even here?” I finally asked the question that had been burning on my tongue since he walked through the door.
His smile faltered.
I leaned in, sensing something shift. “You have a career. You could write literally anything and people would buy it. Your readers would follow you anywhere. So why this?”
He leaned closer too. “Why the little Photoshop?”
We stared at each other in the low firelight. The house was silent except for the wind rustling the trees and the relentless ticking of his damn watch. I wanted to press. To figure out what he wasn’t saying.
“Why did you pretend not to know who I was?” The words shot out before I could stop them. I’d been sitting on them for two whole days.
He leaned in until our knees touched. “Nora, be smart. If I’d told everyone you showed up to the convention wanting to meet my manager, they might’ve called foul play. Technically, you gave me your manuscript after the deadline.”
“But it wouldn’t have mattered,” I said.
He rubbed his jaw, silver glinting in his stubble. “Why not?”
“Because you didn’t do it.” My voice cracked a little with the weight of it.
“Didn’t do what?” He reached for his glass, downed the last inch of amber liquid.
I huffed. Tired of being grated like cheese. I stood. “I should go to bed.”
He gave a deep sigh, as if to sayDon’t be a killjoy.Then his hand wrapped around my forearm. Hot against my bare skin. I looked down at where he touched me.
John Kater let go. “Tell me, Nora.” The way he said my name should have pissed me off. It didn’t.
He was too close. His eyes too dark. Too… whatever.
“You didn’t give your manager my manuscript. I saw you leave it behind.” My voice picked up strength as my heart thudded in my ears.Nowhe’d admit it. Say it wasn’t good. Say he’d been playing me?—
He shook his head. “I went to the back to get Emily. But by the time I returned, you’d already abandoned your very bad stakeout point.”
“What?”
“I could see you the whole time. I hope you never have to hide for your life. You’re terrible at it.” A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips.
I pressed my fingers against my eyes. “Wait… what?”
He shrugged. Our legs still touched. Neither of us moved. “I thought it’d be better if she met you in person. But I made her read it anyway.”
“Youdidgive her the manuscript?”
“Of course I did.” He shook his head like I was ridiculous. “You thought I hadn’t?”
“I thought I got through on my own.” I looked away, toward the dark windowpanes. My head felt like it was wrapped in cotton.
“I’m sure you would’ve. If you could stick to a timeline, that is.” He paused, then grinned. “Is that why you’ve been throwing murdery eyes at me 24/7?”
“No, that’s just part of my natural charm,” I said, though the words lacked their usual bite.
“Emily wasn’t exactly thrilled, but I said I’d pay for dinner and… that was that.”
That was that.
