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“With the plagiarism and everything else. I don’t know if I even want to write anymore.”
Something close to my heart was taken and violated. It’s as simple as that. No one should have to shuck off a mask and force it back onto themselves in the face of adversity.Right?
“Wait, fill me in about this plagiarism stuff. Yourteacherstole your work? How did that even happen?”
I give her all the details about my creative writing professor appropriating my manuscript, as well as the efforts Nico and I have taken to resolve the situation. Carefully omitting the sleeping in the same bed and copious amounts of sex in between, at least for now.
“That’s awful, Lily. All things considered, I’m thrilled Nico found out. Even if itwasbefore me.” She gives me a soft, sympathetic look. “I can’t imagine what it would be like to weather this by yourself.”
Her words are enough of a slap in the face for me to know I was absolutely wrong for not telling her about everything sooner. She would’ve been nothing but understanding.
Why do I keep letting my fear inflate my doubts?
“Yeah, Nico’s been pretty crucial,” I admit.
Letting him in more and more has felt so complicated, but I don’t know how I would’ve survived the past few weeks without him.
“Have you thought about the fact that maybe you can’t move forward with him—”
Oh no.I know where this is going. “I don’t—”
“Stop.” Avery has a stern look in her hazel eyes. “Maybe you aren’t able to give Nico a chance, despite very obviously having feelings for him, because there’s something inside you keeping the door open for Chuck?”
My stomach sours at the suggestion. “What? No, definitely not,” I respond immediately, giving myself no room to consider the possibility. “Chuck’s influence on my life ended a long, long time ago, Ave. I’ve been done with that asshole for years.”
“I’m not saying you have lingering feelings for him, Lil, but you created a blog—heck, an entire persona—because of what happened with Chuck.” Avery tries to chase the arm I’ve unhooked from her. I pull farther out of reach, feeling like I’ve been dropped onto my own deserted island with no help in sight. “You spent the better part of a decade getting payback against guys who shared a likeness with that bastard. Couldn’t there be the smallest chance that you aren’t ready to acknowledge what’s happening between you and Nico because of the trust issues still lingering after Chuck?”
Ouch.
I knew the whole no-one-knows-you-better-than-your-best-friend thing was going to bite me in the fucking ass.
Avery’s words ring in my ears like sirens. Maybe a small part of me didn’t want to tell her about Zoe Mona because she would’ve forced me to look at it differently.
In a way, I’ve been ignoring it.
It seems so obvious now. The almost-invisible link between my secret and Chuck, between the line my heart keeps trying to draw toward Nico, but I keep forcing away with a giant eraser.
Why was I so afraid to look at the truth staring me right in the face?
My heart swells in admiration for Avery, who can see me through the darkness. “Why do you have to know me better than I know myself?”
She pulls me into a steadying hug, and I let myself sink into her embrace.
“Because I love you, and you’re my sister, and I want to see you happy, regardless of what it looks like.” Avery untangles herself from me and grins. “But I’m going to need you to break the news to my husband that his mother read stories of your sexcapades with her son.”
I laugh, thankful for the switch in the subject. She can always tell when I need time to process a boulder-sized crush on my reality.
“To be fair, they were fictional sexcapades.” I recall how Nico’s belt strapped me to the balcony in London in the same manner I’d imagined him doing inCoastal Fling.I wrap my hand around my wrist, and my birthday gift meets my fingers. Strong stones and metal clasps. Almost as permanent as our matching tattoos. “Well, theywereoriginally fictional.”
“No, please don’t tell me any more.” She chuckles playfully, placing her hands over her ears even though I know she’ll ask me more about it later. “Wait, if you wrote about your hookups, did the guy in the mob get a story?”
“He wasn’t in the mob. He just frequently piloted planes out of Florida.”
In reality, his parents owned a rare furniture company that I’m pretty sure laundered money. Who could truly know? The Hermès Kelly in my closet doesn’t know how to spill secrets.
“Oh, because that doesn’t seem sketchy at all. Same withthe gun strapped to his thigh. That was a prop, huh?”
“Yeah, it was.” I shrug.
