Tyler’s arm around me tightened.
The tension between the two men grew palpable.
After Tophe finished reading his latest reworking of his third chapter, which should have been called “Why My Hero Should Drink Arsenic Right Now and Make the World a Better Place”, Per gave Tyler a sidelong glance that would have killed small animals at a hundred yards.
Tyler glared at Per and groped me, and I shook him off. The two of us were notthere– never had been.
They were two big dogs, circling. I had no idea what was going on.
But whatever it was, it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
Halfway through the meeting, Tyler leaned over and murmured in my ear, “Why don’t we get out of here and go to your place? I have court tomorrow morning, and I don’t think I can stand any more of Shora reading.”
While I agreed with him on Shora – her heroine that night had already slept with a werewolf, a were-tiger, two dark elves (one male, one female, both at the same time), and was at that moment being chased by a vampire through the reptile display at the zoo, where I winced to think what was going to desire her next – I was sitting beside the handsome enigma, and the burning question on my mind was, if I hung around, would he smile at me again? Besides, Thorsday Nights only happened every other week, and I loved them. “I still haven’t read yet,” I told him. “I brought chapter one of my new story, and I want to get some feedback.”
Tyler said, “Read it another night. I don’t want you going home alone. I don’t trust your neighbourhood,” but he wasn’t looking at me when he said it. He was looking at Per Tordönsson.
Per Tordönsson. Who rested a hand lightly on my shoulder and said, “Nila, please stay and read your chapter. I’d love to hear it.” He looked past me to Tyler. “I’ll see her home, or one of the other men here will.”
“She doesn’t know you, and neither do I,” Tyler said.
Tyler had a point. Per’s interest in me, in my writing . . . it was completely out of place. It unnerved me. But I didn’t want to leave the meeting. I was having fun.
And Tyler was being possessive way past anything our half-dozen dates entitled him to. We weren’t a couple. We hadn’t slept together.He’d driven me home one night and had stayed over because it was so late, but he’d spent the night on the couch. And brought me breakfast in bed the next morning, which he’d gone out to get, and which had creeped me out, though I couldn’t figure out why.
“I haven’t invited you over,” I told Tyler. “And I’m having fun. My neighbourhood’s good, and I’ll be fine.”
He looked completely unbothered that I’d blown him off. “I’ll drop by first thing in the morning, sweetheart,” he said, loud enough that Shora stopped reading, which was a blessing, and that everyone else looked at the two of us with surprise, which was awkward.
Tyler was one of those men who didn’tget it.We weren’t working out, but he seemed to think we were. I decided in that instant that our last date had been just that. The last.
“I’ll bring you breakfast in bed again, baby,” he added.
He might as well have peed on my leg. He was telling Per, “Don’t be there,” without actually coming out and saying it. As if Per and I . . . well, as if there were any possibility for there being a “Per and I”.
“Don’t,” I said.
I was glad to see Tyler leave.
The rest of the evening was fun. Long, but fun. I read, and people made useful comments. Per sat silent after I finished reading, blinking like he was trying not to cry, which was crazy, because my first chapter wasn’t sad at all. He reached over and touched my hand once, just brushed it, and said, “Thank you.”
I didn’t know what to make of that.
Narnie read. Jason read. The Thorsday Nighters talked. We laughed.
At 3 a.m., we were all packing up and telling tired, silly jokes just prior to heading out the door, when Per stepped in front of me and took a deep breath and said, “Before you go, can I show you something?”
I looked at the earnest expression on his face, and said, “Sure.”
He turned so his back was to everyone in the room but me, and pulled a book out of his backpack. He put a finger to his lips, then handed it over.
I took it, turned it over, and saw the title.Wall of Rivers.
My title.
My heart started to race, and when I glanced at the author’s name, I had to sit down.
Nila Sturgess.
