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Good luckstretches in thick black letters across a newspaper announcement of the library conference.
Grabbing the closest throw pillow, I bury my face in the soft object and scream my frustration and fear. Tears stream down my face as I shove the taunting message in with the others.
Only after I’ve double-checked the locks and shoved a chair under the doorknob for good measure do I let myself curl up in my bed covers. As anxious adrenaline quivers through my limbs, I long to have one of those sweet, yet intimidating-looking pit bulls to cuddle with.
Also maybe the sweet, yet intimidating-looking man who rescues them.
Chapter Thirty-Four
SUMMER
“Summer?”
“On my break,” I mumble around a mouthful of sandwich, my eyes adhered to the screen.
“You want me to come back later?” The question comes with a wry tone that is only perfectly achieved by one man.
Tearing my gaze away from my screen, I realize Cole is standing in my office doorway, lounging against the frame, wearing a smirk. I swallow my giant bite, and from the painful trip it takes down my esophagus, I know I didn’t chew it enough. But I’d rather not just sit here, staring at Cole, munching in silence.
After a sip of water, I wave for him to come in.
“No! Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. Please, come in. Sit down.” There are plenty of soft seats to choose from. Of course, Cole picks the wingback chair I have right next to my desk. He sinks into the garage-sale find, resting an ankle on his knee as he leans back in the seat. Claiming it as his own.
“Enjoying your break?”
“Yes. But”—my eyes flick to my computer screen then back to his face—“are you in a hurry right now? Could you wait a few minutes while I finish something?”
Cole shrugs. “No rush. What do you need to finish?”
“Well, it’s not that I need to. I just want to. Badly.”
His pierced brow curves up, and I try to figure out the best way to explain this without gushing or sounding obsessive.
“So, there’s this website. It’s called EpicTales dot com. Basically, it’s this freely available publishing platform where people can post serialized stories. So anyone can write an epic tale and then release a chapter at a time.”
Cole’s fingers play with a worn hole in the armrest of the chair. I’ve been meaning to patch that.
“And you read these stories?” His casual question holds no understanding of how amazing and addictive these epic tales can be.
“Yes. Well, mainly one story in particular. I’ll sample others, but honestly, this one has ruined me. But in the best way. I’m addicted.”
“Which one is that?”
My eyes flick to my computer screen, drawn there by my rabid need to find out what happens next. But I tear myself away to answer.
“It’s calledThe Seven Siblings. And it is glorious! There’s adventure and romance and intrigue. Essentially, it’s fairy tale retellings, but the traditionally female characters like Snow White and Rapunzel are gender-bent. So they’re men. But their romantic interests are still men, so it’s gay retellings of those fairy tales. And that might make it sound male-centric, but there are also these strong badass characters of other genders throughout, like this witch that is pretty much constantly saving all of their asses…” I trail off when I realize Cole is smiling but still not looking at me. “I’m gushing. Sorry. And I’m doing a sucky job of explaining this. Which is why I am the reader, not the writer. Just take my word for it. This story is amazing, and a new chapter just got posted, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to focus on any conversation with you until I know what happens next.”
“Go ahead and read,” Cole murmurs.
I can’t tell if he’s put off by my fandom or not, but I decide I can figure that out in a few minutes when I get done reading the next scene.
Leaving Cole to his thoughts, I refocus on my computer screen and take another, more reasonable-sized bite of my sandwich. When I reach the last line, an involuntary moan works its way out of my chest before I remember I’m not alone.
“This chapter no good?”
I glance back at Cole to find him watching me intently.
“The exact opposite. Too good. And it ends on a cliff-hanger! Of course, they mainly do. That’s how they keep everyone reading. That, and by weaving an amazing story.” I sigh and remind myself that I only have to wait a week, and then I’ll know what the prince whispered to his lover.
