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My heart rate increases at his words. “Were they that bad?”
“Not at all; like I said, your writing is captivating and hysterical. I—” Nico pauses for a beat. “I didn’t like reading about you being with other guys.”
“Maybe your middle name should beJealous,” I tease, sending one of my freshly manicured fingers into his side. Nico squirms away, laughing. “Besides, you’ve talked about your past hookups plenty of times.”
“Yeah, well, maybe we should stop doing that.” He breaks the tightrope of eye contact between us. I’m desperate to get back to balancing on the connection.
“Okay,” I agree.
Nico walks his hand over to a tiny patch of wildflowers next to our picnic blanket and plucks a few stalks of the orange and purple flowers, smiling when he catches me watching him.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why aren’t you blogging and writing full-time?” He rolls the green stems between his fingers.
“It’s not arealcareer.”
“What do you mean? There are thousands of successful authors who would disagree with you.”
“It’s just not practical for me. Sure, it supplements a bit of income while I put myself through college, but that’s all it is.”
Plus, for some godforsaken reason, I haven’t been able to get my damn creative writing teacher’s words out of my mind all summer.
If you want to be taken seriously, don’t write romance.
I wish I could ignore him, but in the depth of my heart, I know it’s true. I can’t possibly make a career out of this.
A heartless woman writing love stories?Ridiculous.
Nico tucks the wildflowers behind my ear. I smile at the tenderness of it all, at his gentle touch and interest in this part of me.
My chest expands, warmth trickling down my spine and between my legs.
Fucking seriously?I can’t have a guy do something mildly romantic to me without my vagina turning into a journey down Splash Mountain?
“A bestseller isn’t something to be humble about.”
“I’m not.” My jaw pulls toward his hand, and he cups my cheek again. His fingers smell sweetly of flowers. “It’s honestly nothing. I got lucky.”
Truth is, it feels like things haven’t changed. Sure, my bank account is padded with royalties, but I’m sure it’s only a temporary thing.
Flukes happen all the time in the publishing industry. My moment in the spotlight doesn’t mean I’ll entirely overhaul my life plan.
“Why do you keep doing that?”
My eyes flicker to his. “What?”
“You need to stop all of this negative self-talk.” His hand on my skin disappears. “For such an ambitious, confident, and smart woman, it’s strange how you refuse to take this part of yourself seriously, and I can’t, for the life of me, understand why.”
His words are like a pickaxe.
“That’s not fair.” Defensiveness tickles at my throat. “I don’t need to turn my hobby into something industrious. Especially in such an unpredictable and risk-filled industry.”
Nico refuses to budge. “My hobby turned into a career. A very successful career at that.”
“That’s because tech is for people withseriousjobs.”
“Really, Lil, you think I’mserious?”
“It can be your new middle name, but you know what I mean. It’s for people who are successful.”
