The Playroom

Chapter Twenty

I t’s been days since Leo and I have been in the same room, and every time I think about him, my mind replays the same vivid memory, the image searing itself of him bent over, my face buried between his cheeks, tasing him...no...devouring his hole.

The memory alone has made it harder to concentrate.

So. Damn. Hot.

Taking some time apart had felt like the mature, healthy thing to do—our relationship had been speeding ahead, like a wildfire consuming everything in its path. I’ve convinced myself that slowing down would give us room to breathe, to not burn out and Leo agreed. But all it had done was make me ache for him even more. The days stretch endlessly, despite the text or FaceTime calls.

I decided to stop at a small coffee shop a few blocks away from my office and while waiting for my order, my phone goes off. At first, my heart fluttered thinking it was Leo either sending me the sweetest love text or the dirtiest sext.

Instead it was from Jane Pluto.

Her name splashes across the top of it in bold white large letters making me wonder why she would be calling me, when her book tour begins tonight, starting here in Seattle and everything is set up—including emailing her confirmations of the venue and the agenda.

Sliding my finger across the screen, “Hey Jane.”

“Good morning, Drew.”

Even at seven in the morning, she’s proper.

“Are we all set for tonight?” she asks.

“Absolutely. I made sure everything was set yesterday. Did the emails I sent not suffice?” I expressed.

“No they did,” she said, sounding a little worrisome.

One of the baristas placed my large three espresso shot Americano on the counter in front of me.

“The book launch needs to be absolutely perfect, Drew. It’s important!”

I take the first sip of my coffee, trying to focus on what she’s saying, but my thoughts drift back to Leo...

Shaking off the dirty Leo thought, I force myself to concentrate back to the conversation with Jane, clearing my throat.

“I know how much this means to you...trust me, Jane, I have your back. Everything will go off without a hitch.”

My tone sounds confident in hopes she hears it and believes it. But inside, I'm wrestling with how much I’ve missed my man. This time apart is allowing me not to get lost in the relationship and still maintain my independence.

“I trust you, Drew.”

There’s a pause, allowing me to drift back, and then her voice softens, like she’s about to say something personal.

“Is everything okay? If you’re not sure about the book launch, we can adjust some dates, move things around...” I said.

“I’m good! Better than good! There’s no need to do that,” She told me.

She hums softly on the other end, the knowing kind, “How are things going with you and your the man you are seeing?”

It’s very apparent Jane is nervous about the launch, I don’t understand why when she’s done signings before. But I don’t mind jumping into another topic, whatever will get her to talk and think about something else, even if it's about Leo.

“Things are going well with my boyfriend,” I tell her.

“Boyfriend?” she repeats, her voice in a surprised tone.

“Yes,” I giggled, “We made it official.”

“Well, well, well,” Jane’s voice brightened up in a way that felt almost motherly, “That was fast, and I’ve never heard you this smitten before. But you sound like there’s something else going on.”

Her question brought a little heat to my cheeks. Here Jane goes again, sensing the undercurrents in any conversation. I walked away from the counter and over to a nearby window, watching the early morning bustle while trying to come up with a response that didn’t feel like I was exposing too much.

I wanted to keep things with Leo just between us, at least for now. It was still raw, intimate, and I wasn’t sure how to explain the nature of our connection to someone like Jane, even if this is her forte in book writing.

“Just trying to keep work and life balanced, you know?” I said, giving her a half-truth.

It wasn’t a lie, yet it wasn’t the whole truth either. The space between Leo and me had been deliberate, but it didn’t make the distance easier.

“Well, make sure you’re not neglecting yourself in the process,” Jane’s voice cut through my thoughts, her tone firm but kind. “Work is important, but so is your personal life. Especially now that you’re in a new relationship. Correct me if I’m wrong, but it sounds like you are now making sure your identity is still intact?”

How the fuck does she know what’s in my head?

She laughed in return, “I just know people. That’s why my readers connect so well with my characters. Plus, you’re not as mysterious as you think.”

“Maybe not,” I replied.

“Look I don't want to pry too much,” Jane said, “Take it from someone who has had many loves and is able to produce a number of novels—don’t let one consume the other. You need both.”

She wasn’t wrong.

My relationship with Leo is new, thrilling, and deeply intimate, craving more and more. And with Jane’s book launch in mere hours, work is a whirlwind.

“Thank you Jane for I’ve got to run, see you tonight,” Jane says.

After she hung up, I stood there for a moment, the noise of the café swirling around me.

The day passed in a blur warning.

The bookstore had the familiar, comforting smell of old pages mixed with fresh ink. The shelves were lined with books from floor to ceiling, the kind of place that felt like it held endless possibilities.

It wasn’t a huge venue, but it had a cozy charm that felt right for Jane’s book launch tonight, let alone a request from Jane herself. The event area is tucked towards the back, makeshift stage with a small podium and a few rows of chairs set up in neat, tidy lines—it was nice of the store owner to close down for an hour, allowing for setup. It wasn’t easy throwing together an aesthetically pleasing stage with limited furniture they had.

There were handwritten signs with quotes from her new book, a display table overflowing with copies of her latest release, and delicate arrangements of flowers that add a touch of elegance to the room on opposite sides of the stage.

Standing by the display, making final touches by adjusting a stack of her books, signs that may appear to be crooked, simply making sure everything looked perfect, I noticed Jane was at the back of the store talking with the event coordinator about the seating arrangement. She was calm and poised, exactly as I expected. At this point, trying to tell her that everything is going to go well isn’t going to put her mind at ease. I figure just to let her do what she wants and be ready for anything.

This was more than just a book launch to her. It was a chance to reconnect with her audience, to show them what she’d been working on for the past year. It was definitely showing in her posture.

As I adjusted that last bit of decorations, my phone buzzed in my pocket. My heart skipped a beat, knowing who it might be.

It was a message from Leo.

“Good luck with the launch tonight. I know you’ll crush it.”

A small smile couldn’t be stopped, tugging at the corners of my mouth. Even though we hadn’t seen each other in over a week, he was still there, always supportive, always knowing exactly when I needed a little reminder that he was thinking of me.

I typed a quick reply.

“Thanks, it’s going well so far. Can’t wait to see you again.”

Slipping my phone back into my pocket, feeling a little lighter, though the event was far from being over and the stress of it still on my shoulders. Jane appeared by my side, her eyes sharp, noticing the change in my happier expression instantly.

“Seems like a certain boyfriend just reached out,” she teased, a sly grin on her face.

Shaking my shoulders softly, “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” she raised an eyebrow, “You’re practically glowing, Mr. Drew.”

“Okay, fine.” I admitted. “He just texted me, wishing me luck for tonight.”

Jane’s eyes softened for a moment, the usual business-like demeanor giving way to something warmer, more personal.

“Sounds like a good guy.”

“He is.” I nodded. “He really is.”

She studied me for a second longer, then, with a flick of her wrist, motioned toward the display.

“Well, let’s make sure tonight goes perfectly then.”

I laughed, appreciating her playful tone.

But she was right.

Making my way toward the stage, I scan the layout. There is a decent crowd filtering in with people clutching copies of her latest release and murmuring in hushed excitement.

A small woman dressed in a long plaid flowy skirt, white blouse, a cardigan, and glasses with the chain connected to them waltzes up to the stage with her hands holding themselves held close to her chest.

“It’s just about that time, are you and Jane just about ready?” the woman said.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Jane says with a small laugh, smoothing her hair down and standing taller.

“Marvelous! I’ll get things going then.”

The bookstore owner stepped on stage and to the podium, while Jane and I remained on her right off in the sidelines.

“Everybody!” the book owner said into the microphone, “Please make your way to a seat.”

The crowd dispersed quickly, and the small venue filled up quickly, a quiet buzz of anticipation humming in the air. I watched as people settled into the limited chairs and the rest stood in the back, clutching their copies of Jane’s book as if they were holding a piece of gold. The bookstore owner gave a few welcoming remarks, her voice cutting through the crowd, before introducing Jane.

“Now, we may not be Barnes and Nobles, but here in the city we’ve made ourselves known and lucky to have an amazing author. Please help me welcome Jane Pluto!”

A massive thunder of clapping fills the room and I glance over at her, as she rises from her seat, calm and collected as ever, a picture of utter grace. Jane approached the stage and stepped up to the brown podium, her quiet confidence spoke louder than words, a reminder of why the audience had come—to see an author who poured her soul not only in the newest book they all have in their hands, but the collection of novels she’s come to write.

A hush ripples through the audience as she begins, all locked on her as though afraid to blink. Phones are raised discreetly, the glow of their screens a constellation in the dim space. Someone in the front row leans forward so far they’re nearly out of their chair, clutching the well-worn copy of her first novel bristling with sticky notes.

“Thank you so much for having me,” Jane started, “You’re right, this is not a Barnes and Nobles, this bookstore is much more special than that. Before my first book was published, I made this place my safe haven, my comfort zone, a place where I can meet other book readers and open our minds to all kinds of stories. This bookstore, I can proudly say, is my home away from home and I wanted it to be my first stop on my book tour.”

As Jane continued to speak, the crowd consumed every word she spilled from her lips, captivated by her stories of inspiration and process. She had a way of making everything feel profound, even when she was just talking about the mundane task of writing in coffee shops or the countless drafts she’d gone through to make this book perfect.

She then moves on to reading a passage from her book, letting myself soak up into her words, her story flowing like a tame current.

This honestly would be a prime moment to get some video for her socials, giving a chance for her audience to see what’s to come. Pulling my phone and quickly opening the camera app, I press the record button, catching 30 seconds of Jane reading before slowly turning around to face the crowd. Zooming in, I wanted to capture some of the facial expressions the audience was giving, making it great content for her socials—each person was just enamored by the words from her new book.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a figure wearing a hoodie looking very out of place. Zooming in closer, I try to see if I can make out the face, only to realize it’s Kyle.

He’s lingering near the back, half-hidden behind a bookshelf but unmistakably there. Kyle looks in my direction, right into the camera and grins.

My heart skips a beat and my mind flashes back to that night—his hands on me, the way he cornered me in the bathroom and how helpless I felt until Leo intervened.

I swallow hard, gripping my phone.

Every muscle in my body tenses sending a high alert signal. Kyle continues to watch Jane, his arms folded across his chest, looking casual in efforts to draw no attention to him. There’s something unsettling about the a he stands, too calm for someone who had attacked me only a couple weeks ago.

Turning back around, I attempt to focus on Jane, on her voice, but it’s impossible. The words blur together as I keep glancing over my shoulder at Kyle, wondering if he’s going to attempt another confrontation.

Jane’s voice rises, reaching the climactic moment in her passage, and the audience responds with soft gasps, clearly engrossed in the story.

I glance at the exit, contemplating whether I should slip out and call Leo and apologize to Jane later, or confront Kyle right here? What the hell am I thinking? Making a scene would ruin Jane’s night, let alone the audience.

Slowing my breathing, I act like everything is fine. It is the right course, even though my nerves are completely shot and my thoughts are racing.

Once Jane finishes, she then transitions into signing books, in which readers gather in a single file line. I make my way toward the back of the stage, out of sight while still keeping an eye on him.

Kyle catches my eye again for a brief second, and there’s a flicker of recognition—a smirk. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

I grit my teeth.

Pulling out my phone, I quickly text Leo, “Kyle is here.”

Three small bubbles appear and a woosh with his response, “WTF! I’ll be there in minutes. Turn on your location for me.”

Sending him the address and turning on my location, I felt a little better knowing that he was on his way. Not exactly how I envisioned us hanging out again, but this was Kyle. Who knows what he is planning on doing tonight?

I stand inches from Jane, her hand darting across the page as she signs book after book, her smile never faltering. My eyes flick to Kyle weaving through the crowd, getting closer to the line. He doesn’t look at me, but I can feel the sense of hatred radiating from him.

The bookstore owner comes over with the biggest smile on her face, “What a wonderful turnout!”

“I would have to agree,” I say. “Do you, by chance, have security?” I ask.

“Security?” she whispers.

Jane cocks her head back, looking at us from the corner of her eye, while trying to manage to stay focused on her readers in front of her.

“There is no security. Is everything okay?” the store owner asks.

“Peachy, I was just wondering. It’s always a precaution I have,” I tell her, steadying my voice.

Jane chuckled, “Nothing to worry here.”

Without getting another word in, she excuses herself to mingle among the crowd, leaving me to watch Kyle get closer and closer. I glance at the door wondering how long it will take Leo to get here. My senses are still on severe high alert thinking about all the worst case scenarios.

Kyle hasn’t done anything, yet.

“Drew?” Jane asks.

“Yes, Jane?” I reply, with a smile on my face.

“Is everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You never ask if there’s security,” Jane said, in a concerned tone.

Damn it.

I didn’t want to worry her and here I am, failing miserably.

“No need to worry! I wanted to make sure. I’m just making sure that’s all.”

She tilts her head, not convinced, but doesn’t push the matter, “Well, everything is running smoothly, thanks to you. I couldn’t have asked for a better editor and publicist.”

Nodding, my thoughts are far from the success of tonight’s events. As she turns to sign the next book, I take another glimpse at Kyle and he’s only five people away from reaching the table, still holding that malicious grin on his face.

My phone buzzes again, and I nearly jump out of my skin.

It’s another text from Leo, “Almost there, five mins at most. Stay away from him.”

Easier said than done.

Each time someone laughs or aggressively closes their book, I flinch, unable to relax.

Three people now in front of Kyle.

Where the fuck is Leo?

Two people.

Panic starts to claw at my chest as I debate whether to slip behind down a book aisle just far enough away out of Kyle’s sight or quickly and quietly make my way to the front door in hopes Kyle doesn’t notice me, apologizing to Jane tomorrow for vanishing. Before I can decide my next move, I hear someone clear their throat in front of me. I look up and there he is, standing just a few feet away, too close for comfort.

“Hey Drew,” he says, his voice casual, like we’re old friends, “Long time no see.”

Every muscle in my body froze, but I managed to keep my voice from trembling, “Hello Kyle.”

“Oh is this your friend, Drew?” Jane says, with a smile on her face, flickering her eyes between us.

“Something like that,” Kyle comments, “I would love a signed copy.”

I clench my jaw, my nails digging into my palms.

Jane grabs a copy, opens the first page, “And who should I make this out to?”

“Make it out to no one, just a message will do.”

“Oh, okay.”

She waits on Kyle.

“Just you wait,” he says.

Jane jots it down, “Anything else,”

“Nope. I think the message is unequivocal.”

A knot tightens in my stomach. He’s taunting me, playing with my fear. I grip my phone in my pocket, ready to dial Leo or the police.

He leans in closer, “Your boyfriend isn’t going to be around all the time.”

Jane's eyes jump from Kyle to me with a curious look and knowing her, she’s going to want an explanation.

I don’t flinch, not this time.

Kyle smirks again, grabbing the copy out of Jane’s hands, giving me one final stare before turning his back and heading to the front of the store.

I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t. Not here. Not in front of Jane and everyone, as I watch him walk away with that smug grin still plastered on his face.

Jane, thankfully oblivious to the gravity of the situation, went right back to signing books, her calm voice breaking through the haze of panic clouding my mind.

By the time I looked up again, Kyle was gone and Leo hastily opened the front door and started scanning the room for me. The second he spotted me, he made a beeline in my direction.

“Where is he? Are you okay?” he said, his voice low but tense. His hand found mine, and even the small touch grounded me more than I expected.

“I’m okay, but he’s gone.” I said, still uneasy.