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I squinted at him. “Now?” I dragged my fingers through my messy reddish-brown curls. “I chewed stomach acid all night. Pretty sure I don’t look my best.” Understatement, no doubt.
Because of my Graves’ disease, I easily got dysbiosis. Following a strict autoimmune diet kept it in check. Most of the time. When that failed, I was miserable.
“You look beautiful, Brick. Sexy and tousled.”
I grunted. “I never saw a pic of Livi with bedhead.” Livi was his skinny, blonde, jet-setting ex-girlfriend.
“Exactly. You’re much more fun that she was.” He climbed over me to snuggle into the covers, and I realized I was sleeping alone.
“Where’s Aithan?” He’d piled pillows against the headboard last night and slept with me upright on his chest so my wicked indigestion didn’t worsen.
“He left for Blue Water hours ago.”
“Fuck.” I rolled over to face Drew. “He must be exhausted.”
He shrugged. “Looked and sounded rested. He said it took you a while to settle, but he left you sound asleep.”
“That man is too good for this world.”
“That’s true.” Drew waggled the phone and added, “Unlike me.” He snuggled down beside me and opened his favorite social media app, raising the phone so he could capture the two of us together. “I’m the bastard streaming you and your bedhead live to the whole world.”
I turned my face and kissed his cheek. “I love you, Drew Katterman, even if you are an asshole.”
His grin lit up the fucking internet. “Did you hear that, guys?” he asked his readers as the feed went wild with comments. “Zelda Claudette Gordon loves me. And I’m an asshole.”
He was like a little kid in a candy store with a twenty-dollar bill and no parental supervision. He responded to questions and comments as they came across his feed in real time. Some of these readers had followed him for years, and he chatted with them like they were old friends. Which, I suppose, in a way they were. These people had supported Drew when he first emerged as a reverse harem author. Many even predated his RH days.
“Meagan! Hey, girl! How’s Stallone?” He glanced at me and explained, “That’s her fifteen-year-old pit bull.” He scanned the messages. “Yep, Zel narrated all theDragon DominationandStarship Steambooks.”
A lot of the messages were positive, congratulating him and saying sweet things about me. Even complimenting my work. But more than a few asked about Drew’s ex-girlfriend.
Finally, he said, “I see all the questions about Livi. We split up last month and, guys, that’s all I’m gonna say about it. She deserves respect and privacy, okay?”
Lots of agreement came in. Still, a few pushed for more information, but Drew refocused the group by announcing, “Guess what?Tits on Titan Fiveis complete at seventy-five thousand words. Banged that shit out in eight days.” He seemed to know how to control the crowd as they switched to bombarding him with questions about the newest book. Drew gave them hints about the plot and promised a cover reveal in the coming weeks. He told them about the reverse harem grizzly series he’d started writing too, and they clamored for it.
“MOAR fantasy?” He read aloud and laughed. “Yep, I heard ya, eXene. First book in that series isGrisly, and those titles will have some of the darkness you guys liked in theDominationnovels.”
He greeted readers personally, asking about one woman’s grandmother and another’s job hunt. Celebrating the good news of AndaBell’s engagement and asking the group to send positive vibes to Neutron Johanna’s cat Pickles, who’d just had surgery.
Finally, he pulled a lock of my hair across his upper lip to form a long mustache and said, “Time to let this woman start her day. Wanted you guys to meet the love of my life. Also, watch for a sales link. TheStars and Strippersaudiobook comes out Wednesday and Zel knocked that shit outta the park.” He smooched me then said, “Bye, bitches!” and ended the feed.
“That was kinda weird.” I sat up and belched. “Oh, Christ.” I grimaced at the acid burn that came with it.
“Damn, girl, that was gnarly.”
“Sorry. Dysbiosis doesn’t give a shit about manners.”
He shrugged. “Neither do I.”
“I know.” I rubbed my sternum. I’d puked during the night and suffered through acid reflux before and after for hours.
He gently massaged my back. “What triggered this?”
“That fucking banana.”
“What? You ate like two bites.” It was true. I’d had less than a quarter of a banana that Drew was eating the previous night.
“Yeah, well, tell that to my psycho body.” I exhaled a slow breath, facing away from him because my mouth tasted like the entire Amazon jungle had climbed in and died. “They’re one of those foods I can sometimes eat. But, damn, I think I’m crossing them off my list after last night.”
