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“But you told me,” Blake said, low and secretive in the quiet night.
“I wanted you to know.”
Kissing Everly had been the thought in the forefront of his mind for weeks now, but his love and appreciation for her grew exponentially when she shared something so important to her.
And she shared it with him. Just him. That trust meant everything to him.
“Why don’t you tell anyone?” he asked.
Everly waved a dismissive hand in the air. “You know me. I don’t want to draw attention.”
“Like Ridge always did?” It was easy to understand Everly’s aversion to the public eye after seeing what the attention did to her brother–her family.
“I’m not so much scared of the lies and rumors, but I know how unhappy people are when there isn’t a single part of their life that is safe from scrutiny. They can’t walk outside without being judged.”
“I get it. I really do.” Everly didn’t know the half of it. He’d seen numerous marriages broken by the media. Lies or truth, it all came out in the wash, and it was never pretty.
She wrapped her arms around her middle, as if she could shield herself from that onslaught. “I always felt safer out of the way. Ridge couldn’t be himself without someone lashing out at him, and I pitied him.”
Blake had been close enough to Ridge when he was sentenced that some of that backlash had caught Blake too. At the time, he’d brushed it off, knowing Ridge and Everly were better off if the media didn’t know the real truth. So, whatever lies were spread, Blake had let them roll.
Now, he was torn between the secret he and Ridge had kept from Everly and being as open and honest with her as she’d been with him tonight.
It was time she knew. Blake would make a point to talk to Ridge about it soon. They’d have to do it together. They both owed her an explanation.
Everly took a deep breath. “I want to write,andI want to be myself. It wouldn’t be as enjoyable if I knew people would be reading it and judging the things I wrote.”
“Why don’t you publish anonymously or under a pen name?” Blake asked.
Everly closed her laptop and set it to the side. “I don’t know. It doesn’t feel genuine. I mean, I know people have reasons for doing that, but I wouldn’t want to hide and hope that no one found me out. I would be anxious all the time. Plus, I write for myself. Not for anyone else. I write the stories I want to read. Writing helps me understand my feelings and why other people might do the things they do or react in a way different than I would in the same situation.”
“I bet your writing is amazing. You’ve read so many books, and you’re an editor. Maybe this is your spiritual gift. Maybe what you’re doing is practice for something great.”
Everly tucked her feet beneath her on the couch. “I don’t think I’ll change my mind. It’s just a hobby–something that helps me clear my head. But I have to admit you make it sound really great.”
“Just think about it.” He rubbed his hands together. “Can I read some of it?”
Everly tilted her head from side to side. “Maybe.”
“I want a super sappy love story.”
Everly laughed. “There’s no way you’d like that.”
“I’m here for it. The more kissing, the better.”
Everly rolled her eyes. “I shouldn’t have told you.”
“I’m glad you did.” Blake reached for Everly’s hand. The skin was so soft. Threading his fingers through hers, he knew whatever was growing between them was bigger than anything he’d ever known. “I can’t believe I’ve been exchanging notes with a writer and editor. I feel like everything I’ve ever left for you has been read with a scrutinizing eye.”
Everly squeezed his hand. “I love the notes.”
“I’ll just have to up my game. Haikus and sonnets.”
The door to the basement opened, and Ridge walked in. “You two look cozy.”
Everly’s hand slipped from Blake’s, reminding him that their relationship was hindered in more ways than one. Secrets were the worst foundation for a relationship.
“I thought you went to bed,” Everly said.
