“Actually,” I say in a whisper, “I write too.”
“No, you don’t. You’re just trying to impress me after the comment I just made.”
“It’s the truth. Me and my friends. There are six of us. We all write romance.”
Her smile twitches, as if she is unsure whether to smile, laugh, or just walk away because I’m now that weird guy.
“Prove it,” she says, and honestly, that wasn’t what I was expecting her to say. “Let me read something you wrote.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah”—she bumps my shoulder— “or I’ll think it’s just a line you give to get into a girl’s pants.”
“All right.” I hold out my hand. “Follow me.”
“Where to?”
“My room.”
“Oh no, I set myself up for that one, didn’t I?” But she follows me.
“I’ll be a true gentleman,” I tell her. “Unless you tell me to be different.”
“What a gentlemanly thing to say.”
I tug her behind me through the kitchen and up the stairs. Just as we reach my door, I turn to face her.
“By the way, I’m Tobias. What’s your name?”
She blushes as I open the door.
“Natalie.”
CHAPTER ONE
TOBIAS
Present Day
A bad day can always be fixed by writing. It doesn’t even have to be a lot of words. Maybe just a couple hundred. And it doesn’t have to be in one of the many romances I’m currently writing. I could just open a blank document and write precisely what I’m thinking, get it off my mind. Of course, I could just share my thoughts with my friends—I trust them more than anyone else—but writing has never let me down either. Both are a solid choice.
I glance up from my computer. All my friends are here with me today. No matter where our lives take us, we always make time once a week to get together and write. We dabble in all areas of the romance genre, but writing is what brought us together. Maybe that’s why I trust it so much. It’s brought a lot of good into my life. Words are powerful and change lives more than most people realize.
Today is a quiet day at The Space. The Space is a public workspace Simon, one of the guys sitting at this table, and I opened last year. We both had our reasons for wanting to open this place, but we share this: no matter how much our lives changed over the years, we wanted the group to always have a place to get together.
Sure, we could have picked someone's home, but we’re realistic. Aside from me, they’re all on their way to getting engaged, married, or growing their families, and having a group of six adult men show up to take over the living room or kitchen to work doesn’t seem sensible.
“Something on your mind?” Hero asks, sitting across from me.
I shake my head. “Just thinking about this scene.”
And how to finish it, because who are these characters? I have no idea anymore.
I glance at the word count. Thirty thousand words later, and what the hell have I been writing?
Typical.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Zane, who is sitting next to Hero, asks as he looks up.
