Chapter Eleven
Jess
I pretend to be asleep when Nick comes back to the room, and it’s the most restful portion of the evening. How am I supposed to relax when I know what happened in the depths of my subconscious the night before? Sure, I built a wall of pillows between us this time, but something tells me my horniness and my intense attraction to Nick Matthews aren’t going to let a little fluffy down get in the way of pressing against his rock-hard body.
And so, since I never really go to sleep, I make sure to “wake up” well before him. I dress in the same jeans and sweater as the day before, hoping today is the day the storm abates so I don’t have to keep washing my bra and underwear in the sink. Though I did get a bit of sick pleasure from leaving my lacy red undergarments to dry in the bathroom, where there’s no way Nick could miss seeing them. Payback for him noticing me ogling him the other night when he stripped off his shirt. If he wants to play the who’ll-give-in-to-the-sexual-tension-first game, I’m a more than willing participant. I fully plan to come out on top.
Probably not the best way to phrase that, given the circumstances.
As quietly as I can, I grab my laptop and a key and let myself out of the room. It’s still dark outside, and the coffee counter in the lobby is not officially open yet, but the barista takes one look at me and makes me a double peppermint mocha. Thank god for baristas.
Since there’s no one else in the lobby save the lone employee behind the reception desk, I make myself comfortable in one of the cozy armchairs near the fireplace. The fire roars to life as I sit down, and my eyes fly to the employee, who holds up a remote and flashes me a smile. I return it and settle in to write.
But as so often has been the case lately, nothing comes. The previous day must have been a total fluke, probably brought on by something I don’t want to acknowledge.
Okay, I don’t want to acknowledge it, like even thinking about it might make it true, but I had the most productive writing session I’ve had in over a week. Right after waking up in Nick’s arms.
I refuse to give weight to that thought, focusing my attention instead on the story in front of me. The second-chance romance that will end with an HEA, not the one I’m living where there will be no second chance and definitely no romance. I manage to get a couple sentences down on the page, but I know reading them back that they are going to end up getting cut.
But, I tell myself, this is why we have revisions. The important thing right now is to get something written. I can’t edit a blank space, but between myself, my agent, and my editor, we can make even the roughest of rough drafts into a decent book. Hopefully.
And yes, I want more than just a decent book. I have dreams, plenty of goals still left unfulfilled. I’d love to hit a list or sell a movie option or be in some kind of fancy book box.
All things Nick has already done.
My eyes narrow on the screen, but I block him out of my head. This is my writing time, and I’m not going to let him intrude on my brain any further.
I stare at the screen for long enough that by the time I come up for air, the coffee shop line is snaking through the lobby and the restaurant is packed with breakfast goers.
Now that I’ve seen all the people, the noise of the room starts to seep into my brain. I’d blocked it out for a while, so lost in my own process—or lack thereof, if we’re being honest—but now that I’ve heard the chatter, I know I won’t be able to turn it off. I pack up my laptop, thinking I might grab some breakfast and maybe see about one of those massages.
My phone buzzes before I can abandon the noisy center of the lobby.
Alyssa: Are you still alive? You were supposed to let us know when you got home safely last night!
Shit. I totally forgot, in the haze of my anger at Nick, to let my friends know I was still stuck here. It would probably be easier to tell them I’m back at home, but I can’t lie to them, and something tells me I might need them to keep me grounded if I’m going to be trapped here with Nick for another few days.
Me: Yeah, so funny story. The storm is still going strong, and so I’m still here at the inn.
Me: And also, they lost my reservation and I don’t exactly have a room because no one has been able to leave.
Kennedy: So where the hell are you staying then?
Alyssa: OMG!! Are you okay?!?!? I’m so sorry, Jess! I should have been there with you!
Me: You being here would just mean we are both trapped, I’m glad you’re safe at home!
Kennedy: Don’t think you can avoid my question. Where have you been sleeping if you don’t have a room?
Me: So funnier story. As I was attempting to check in, Nick was also checking in and of course they didn’t lose his reservation so he offered to let me stay with him, so that’s where I’ve slept for the last two nights.
My phone is still and silent for the next two minutes. Alyssa is able to get it together first.
Alyssa: Are you okay?
Her simple question almost brings tears to my eyes. No judgment, just a desperately needed check-in.
Me: I don’t know, honestly.
Me: Seeing him again has been a bit of a mind fuck. There’s still *stuff* there. Attraction and feelings and lots and lots of anger.
Me: And to make it all worse, that publicity director I told you I met? She hinted that if Nick and I were to get involved, it would help both of our careers.
Kennedy: Wait, what? She actually said that to you? Like she wants you to fake date or something?
Me: Okay, romance novelist. No, she didn’t say anything as direct as that.
Me: Maybe I misunderstood her.
Maybe I willfully misunderstood her, not that I’m going to admit to that, or examine the thought too closely.
Alyssa: How did Nick react to that?
Me: I haven’t told him. She wasn’t serious, so I figure it’s not even worth bringing it up.
Alyssa: Wow. That’s a lot for just a couple of days. How are you holding up?
Me: I’m hanging in there. Just trying to keep a clear head. Last night at dinner Nick made it seem like he never wanted to break up with me, like he regretted the whole thing.
Kennedy: Do you think that’s true?
Me: I wouldn’t have believed it, but Nick has never been a good liar, and there was something in his eyes that made me think he was telling the truth.
Kennedy: Maybe this is the perfect chance for you to get some closure. Finally put him firmly behind you and let yourself move on.
Alyssa: Or maybe this is the beginning of your second-chance romance!
Me: Absolutely not. That is definitely not what is happening here.
Alyssa: Oh yeah? How many beds are in that cozy room at the inn you guys are sharing right before Christmas?
Me: I hate you.
Kennedy: Alyssa, no. This is the man who straight up broke her heart. He doesn’t deserve a second chance.
Alyssa: Everyone deserves a second chance!
My stomach growls, reminding me that a double shot of caffeine and whipped cream is all I’ve had this morning—or is it afternoon? Time really doesn’t seem to exist here.
Me: Let’s put a pin in this convo. I’ll check in with you guys later.
Alyssa: Open your heart to love!
Kennedy: Close your legs to ex-boyfriends!
Chuckling out loud at that one, I figure while I have my phone out I should also let Morgan know I might be MIA for a couple of days. For a second as I wait for her to answer, I worry about my job security, but she responds to my text almost immediately, assuring me she can cover my shifts, telling me to be safe and take care of myself.
I know the end goal is to someday not have to be a barista-slash-writer, emphasis on the barista, but I’m so glad if I have to have a day job, I have one like this.
My stomach growls again, and I make my way over to the restaurant. Given that everyone in the hotel is trying to get food from one spot, the place is packed. I know there’s no hope of getting a table anytime soon and I’m about to abandon hope when I hear my name.
Hannah is waving from a table in the back corner, gesturing for me to come join her.
Thank god.
Except as I round the corner, I see Hannah isn’t dining alone. Gina sits in the seat next to her. And Nick takes up one of the chairs across from them.
Of course. Gina is Nick’s editor. How could I have forgotten that?
I plaster a fake smile on my face and slide into the seat next to Nick, shifting the chair so there is the maximum amount of space between us. “Hi, everyone. Thanks for saving me. I thought I was going to have to forage the vending machines for sustenance.”
“Of course!” Hannah is way too bright and cheerful for someone who is snowed in at a hotel upstate just a few days before Christmas. “I wanted to chat with you about your new book idea anyway, so this is perfect!”
The last thing I want to do is talk about my enemies-to-lovers second-chance romance in front of my now-enemy, former lover who will not be getting any sort of second chance, but I think this is another one of those situations where I have to play nice.
Gina smiles over the rim of her coffee cup. “Perfect timing, Nick was just about to tell us about his new project too.”
Nick shoots her a look like he was definitely not going to be doing that, but she just smiles and sips.
“So what are you working on?” Hannah asks.
“An enemies-to-lovers second-chance holiday romance.” I say the words and then check the room because there seems to be some kind of echo.
It takes a second to realize there’s no echo, there’s just my ex-boyfriend stealing my book idea.
Okay. That might not be totally fair. Plenty of books have the same tropes while ending up being totally different from one another. But seriously, what are the odds?
My stomach sinks as I absorb the full impact of the situation, and I no longer feel hungry, only sick. There’s no way my publisher is going to pick up my option if my proposed book is so similar to their stupid star writer’s. This project of mine is grounded before it’s even had the chance to take off.
Gina’s eyes dart back and forth between us. “Wait a minute, you’re both writing a second-chance holiday romance?”
I nod, keeping my eyes far away from Nick’s. I can feel his gaze boring into the side of my head, but I ignore it, focusing instead on calming the nausea. Maybe if my book publishes a year after Nick’s, SVP will still buy it. I can’t really afford to go a whole year without publishing a book, but it might be the best offer I get at this point.
Nick clears his throat. “Yes. The idea came to me a couple of weeks ago.”
My mouth goes dry. “Yeah. Me too.”
Hannah and Gina exchange a look.
“How…how has that been going…for both of you?” Hannah’s eyes are wide, like she’s afraid of what we’re going to say next.
“Fine,” I say.
“Great,” he says. “I’ve made a lot of progress.”
I immediately know Nick has been struggling just as much as I have, that he’s lying through his teeth. It makes me feel a teeny bit better. The nausea abates, replaced by the all-too-familiar sensation of being really, really annoyed with Nick Matthews. Why does everything between us always end up in a competition? My favorite thing about being a writer is my community of fellow authors. How much we love and support one another, how much we are there for each other. Nick has never wanted to be a part of that, and I hate how he holds himself at the top, without ever reaching a helping hand to those who make the community so special.
“It’s weird though. I can’t seem to picture how they come together in the end. I’m finding it hard to make the male main character’s arc believable. Can he actually change? Could he truly make her happy the second time around when he failed so miserably the first?” I allow my gaze to drift Nick’s way, just in time to see an angry flush darken his cheeks. “Why would she even want to give him a second chance when he fucked it up once already?” I normally wouldn’t speak this way in front of publishing professionals, but one glance at Nick and I forget the need to hold back.
“Interesting. I’m struggling with figuring out my couple’s backstory. The female main character seems to place sole blame for the breakup on the hero, even though she wasn’t a completely innocent party. But she seems incapable of realizing how her own actions played a role in their split.” Nick’s eyes narrow as they meet mine.
“Maybe you should combine your stories and write a book together.”
Both of our heads whip around, our gazes locked on Gina.
She shrugs. “Don’t look at me like that. It sounds like you’re writing similar books anyway. And you’re both stuck at opposite ends. Plus, who knows how long we’re going to be trapped here? Might as well accomplish something.”
Hannah leans forward. “You know, it isn’t a terrible idea.”
“Isn’t it, though?” My voice screeches loudly across the room, turning more than a few heads in our direction because I don’t think I’ve ever, not once in my life, heard a worse idea.
“If nothing else, it might be a good exercise to get you both past the tricky parts. Even if the project itself doesn’t turn into anything, maybe the brainstorming will unlock something about your current projects.” Hannah is so smart and cool and yet in this moment, all I want is to punch her in the face.
Nick turns to me with a wide smile stretched across his face and my blood runs cold at the sight of it. “I think it sounds like a fantastic idea.”
And there he goes, sealing my fate. Nick knows as well as I do that if he is on board to cowrite a book with me, even if it does turn out to be nothing more than an “exercise,” there’s no way I can say no.
What I can do is make sure he regrets his decision.