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“For a romance novel, yes.”
“So just write them into love.”
“It’s not that simple,” Maggie said. She set her wine glass on the table, searching for the words. “I can’t just tell my readers what my characters are thinking or feeling. I have to build the tension and the stakes in other ways. It needs to be in the minute interactions, the way he looks at her, the way their fingers brush, the way she puts his needs first. But somehow I’m not capturing it. My readers need to ship my characters. Right now they don’t.”
Audrey tapped her index finger against her pursed lips. “Okay, we can fix this.”
We? Maggie wanted to ask, because only one of them was actually writing the story. Her characters, Jenna and Luke, were so much fun to write and learn. And yes, Luke had a heavy dose of golden hair and mossy green eyes, and innate protectiveness stolen directly from Audrey’s brother, but she had no idea how to change the chemistry. Absolutely none. And as much as Maggie loved Audrey like family and trusted her with things nobody else knew, Audrey was not a writer. She was barely even a reader unless it was true crime or covered in gore. They’d had to settle on reality television since her previous movie night picks usually caused Maggie some extensive nightmares, and Maggie did not have extra funds for extra therapy.
“I appreciate your support, but I can handle this,” Maggie said.
Audrey shook her head. “Maggie, I love you. I adore you. But you don’t stress well. Please let me help.” She reached for Maggie’s hand, enclosing it in both of hers. “I don’t say this to be mean, but your anxiety sometimes leads you to a major freak out, and I want to help get you on the ‘fix it’ path instead of the panic path.”
Most of Maggie’s anxiety stemmed from the worry that she’d failed at something or let someone down, but she could handle other pressures just fine. Sometimes. There were times when she could feel the panic coming, seeping over her skin and into her pores like cold water, chilling her down to the bone. Other times she barely recognized the grip of anxiety before she was spiraling into a tangled web of intrusive thoughts and heart palpitations. Audrey was uniquely skilled at helping bring Maggie back down when she was stuck in her own slide. As much as she loved her friend and appreciated her carefulness, sometimes Maggie felt like Audrey underestimated her.
“I already had the panic,” Maggie said, and Audrey immediately pulled her into a hug. “I’m okay, I swear. Mac helped.”
“Mac?”
“He was at the store when I got the first email.”
“And he helped.” Audrey’s tone was flat. “Mac.”
Audrey got along just fine with her boyfriend’s brother, so Maggie was having a hard time deciphering the look on her friend’s face. Mac wasn’t a mean guy, he was just introverted. Extremely introverted.
“It doesn’t matter.” Maggie said, “It still doesn’t solve my current writing issues.”
Audrey was quiet for a few minutes as she chewed on a spelt cracker and a piece of Gruyère.
“I say this with love,” Audrey said, “but you don’t date, and maybe you should.”
Maggie blinked at her best friend. She opened her mouth to protest, and Audrey cut her off. “Maybe you struggle to write chemistry because you haven’t experienced it firsthand.”
“I don’t have time to date.” Maggie’s rebuff was automatic.
Audrey fixed her with a knowing smile. “Do you not have time? Or do you not have interest? It’s okay if you don’t have an interest in anyone or in dating or in sex.”
Maggie blushed.
“What if giving it a shot would give you some insight into your book?”
Maggie was interested in people, well one in particular, but the idea of putting herself out there with strangers made her itchy and lightheaded. Was it possible to be allergic to dating? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been attracted to someone other than Dean, and men seemed to take it personally when their dates weren’t attracted to them. She could recognize a good-looking man, Mac, for example, but her love for her best friend’s brother kind of negated that knowledge.
“You could plan a couple of movie-worthy dates with a hot guy and then take all those mental notes you’re so good at.” Audrey’s words were coming faster, a sure sign she was getting excited. “I’m sure Cal can find someone hot but respectful.”
Dean flashed through Maggie’s mind before she could censor her own thoughts. Warm green eyes and straight white teeth. Her stomach flipped. She could never ask Dean, could she?
“Cal can find what?” Audrey’s boyfriend walked through the front door with his brother. Cal stopped by the couch to press a kiss to Audrey’s mouth.
Mac lifted one hand in greeting and Maggie lifted hers back. He leaned his shoulder back against the door frame to the kitchen. Maggie hadn’t seen him since her panic at The Tattered Cover, but her insides felt a little warm, and she also felt a lot grateful that he hadn’t mentioned her panic attack to Audrey. He’d grounded her when she needed it, but he hadn’t made more of the moment than it was. Mac’s sweater was black with his same dark jeans and worn brown boots and the same frown permanently creasing his face.
“Someone for Maggie to date,” Audrey said with a big grin. Mac’s eyes snapped to Maggie.
“Sure,” Cal said and jumped right in like he always did. “Jack’s a good guy. Sam and Stubbs, too. I know they think she’s cute.”
“‘She’ is right here,” Maggie reminded Cal, but his energy was infectious, so she was smiling too.
“I know you are, Hon. We’ll get you set up in no time,” Cal said.
