Chapter 22 Robin #3
I scowl over my shoulder and in response, he digs his fingers teasingly into my hips, smirking. I wiggle and his smirk drops.
“I wouldn’t move so much on my lap baby. Not if you still want me to be a gentleman.”
I laugh, wiggling my bum a little, but his firm hands keep me still. “Fine—your turn. Let’s keep playing.”
“Have you ever written anything smutty?”
I nearly drop my cup into the bath; cheeks heating. “W-what?”
“You heard me, have you ever written anything naughty?”
“Writing smut is not naughty, it’s actually a very popular movement happening in the book world.”
“I know—have you written any?”
I stay silent.
“You totally have!” He begins to laugh, “My Wife is a dirty little writer.”
“Keep talking like that, and you’ll be the one writing a smutty romance.”
“You have to be honest and tell me. Twenties questions law.”
It takes me a moment to get over how mortified I am, but I lower the ramen pot onto the side and try to relax myself lower into the water.
“Okay, so when I was in university, I used to write fan fiction. Specifically, it was about a certain wizard rivalry.” Wren doesn’t speak and before I can let him or hear his laughter, I rush on.
“I wrote a story where they were enemies to lovers and they were together throughout the last few years of school and wizard university, so his betrayal was awful. They had sex before he went off with his family. Hermione was pregnant with his baby and she raised him without Draco knowing, until after the war, he found her and saw his child. Well, he stalked them, but they fell in love and lived happily away from all the drama in a cottage.” My cheeks burn, but instead of laughing, Wren pulls me closer.
“You have to let me read it.”
“Absolutely not happening.”
“I’m sorry, but that sounds amazing and I need to read it. If it’s anywhere close to being as well written as Detective Featherton, you gotta’ let a guy check it out.”
He can’t see the roll of my eyes, but it means he also can’t see the stupendous grin I can’t hide.
Whilst I love the praise, it is a little too much and the urge to throw his attention off me grows stronger.
Twisting around as best I can between his legs, he detaches his hands from me as I gather the shampoo and unhook the shower head.
Quizzitively he raises one eyebrow, mouth pursed.
“I’m going to wash your hair.” I tell him, turning on the tap for the attachment and use the back of my hand to get the perfect temperature.
“No, Roo. Baby, you don’t need to do that—”
I stop him. “I want to take care of you.” Leaning forward, I leave all concerns for my heart behind, placing a chased kiss to his full lips.
Wren doesn’t close his eyes, looking awestruck, a flash of vulnerability glinting in them.
Gently his finger tips graze under my chin and he kisses me back hungrily.
That's how it feels each time we collide; devouring.
Smiling, I end the kiss and he tilts his head back with his eyes closed, making it easier for me to kneel between his legs and use the showerhead to wet his hair.
My bare breasts are right there in his face, but he's respectfully the perfect gentleman and doesn't take a peak.
Lathering his hair with the shampoo, I massage his shaggy cut until he hums content.
I can't help but study the way his brows relax, his shoulders down and feel pride that I've given him this moment.
Wren might be able to hold himself together to save face with the others, but he doesn't need to do that with me.
He just found a friend dead, that trauma is going to hit us all in ten folds when we return to reality.
“You should publish it. Obviously rewrite some of the plot and characters, but star crossed magical lovers would be an awesome plot.” He says as I rinse the shampoo out. Both his hands have found my waist again, his thumb drawing smooth circles into my skin.
“Publish a dark fantasy romance? I write murder mysteries, Wren.”
“But you also write other things, apparently. I bet you loved every moment making them fall in love against all odds.” I can’t argue. I really did, but my fan fiction has always been my little secret.
“Could you publish it under a pen name?”
I tilt my head in thought. “I mean, I could if I wanted to branch out from crime fiction.” I think about all the fantasy and romantasy novels I have in my apartment.
Every time I read one, I really want to create my own world and put it on paper.
“I could do the same process and submit enquiries to my own publisher, but also others if they weren’t interested.
Featherton is doing quite well, they might be interested in another genre. ”
He grins widely, as I twist the tap off and put the shower head back. His hair is already starting to curl. “See? Who says I can’t make your smutty dreams come alive.”
Turning to settle back into him, I ponder my next question.“Okay, regarding your secret. Tell me what happened there.”
Picking up his ramen again, he finishes it off in just a couple of forkfuls. “I didn’t know she had a husband, but I did complain to her agency about the article, intending on getting her fired.”
I’m stunned by his honesty with me, it's admirable really, showing me the ugly most people wouldn't admit it.
“Thank you for being honest with me.” I say, taking one of his hands from my waist and kissing the back of it, right over a tattoo of the sun.
His other hand has a moon, with the words love on the knuckles; the other five fingers tattooed Larks.
“I was told being honest with you is always the best policy, so here’s me doing that. Yeah, it was a total shitty move on my part, especially when I don’t usually react to whatever bullshit is written about me.”
“What was different that time?”
“I was just tired of someone using me for some sort of gain. Yes, sleeping with her was purely my own selfish benefit, but at the time, I thought she was single, so I won’t feel bad about two consenting adults having sex.
I barely cared about the post, it was her husband trying to punch me that did it.
Our PR team contacted her work and told them what happened.
I’m not happy with how I acted—I was a total asshole. ”
“How did Corbin find all that out?” I ask, the question I should have maybe prioritised to find out sooner if he has been working with someone. Did Mavis really give him all of our secrets?
“I don’t know, actually. The guys saw the article, but my manager–Theo, made sure none of them knew about the other stuff. I didn’t even tell Phin.”
“Did Willow know?”
He sighs. “She does know some of the girls on the team. Lily and Mavis too. They're friends with Delilah, head of our social media.”
“So, let’s say over drinks she accidentally lets slip. Mavis then mentions it to Corbin…” I wince, because it’s completely plausible.
Wren sighs. “I swear I can’t trust anyone. If I hadn't met Phin when I had, I probably wouldn’t even have a best friend.”
“You have the guys, though, right?”
“I do, but I think out of anyone, you understand how deep a friendship with someone like Phoenix goes. I’ll never find that again in this lifetime.”
Now I’m smiling, because I truly do understand. My thoughts can’t seem to stir away from the shit show happening outside of our bathtub bubble. “I’m so sorry about Jay.” I say softly, laying the side of my head against his shoulder and shifting slightly onto my side between his legs.
“He’d been with us for years. Almost from the start, really. We used to pay him with beer.”
I laugh soundlessly, feeling his lip tug up slightly at the side.
We lay clinging to each other in blissful silence for a while, before Wren sits me up and reaches for the nice shampoo he used on my hair before.
As he turns the showerhead on again, getting the right temp, he wets my hair and runs his fingers through each strand.
The scent of bubblegum and marshmallows encapsulates me.
“What do you think your secret will be?” He asks, his tone unreadable, especially when I can’t see his face.
“I’ve thought about this since the murder mystery party, and I can’t think of anything.
When I say I live like a retired recluse–without the cats, I’m not lying.
I kept my head down in school and at university, hung out with other writers on my course and I only do yoga because I love that it’s in York Gardens.
I barely party, I don’t go to clubs with Lil or Phin—I watch Jonathan Creek on repeat or Poirot reruns.
As you can imagine, I read a lot, so apart from my unhealthy obsession with romantasy, there isn’t much to tell. ”
“I’m not surprised in the slightest. I bet you love enemies to lovers the most.”
I scoff. “Obviously, it’s a top-tier trope.”
As he rinses my hair and tells me of what he likes to read when he gets the chance, I detach from my own secret and start to think about the other guests.
Phin's was the first and caused the biggest drama. I’ve managed to keep Cardinals to ourselves, but it would have been catastrophic if it was caught by the detectives or in fact Willow.
Had Corbin known about their connection?
Aya could have told him. It was obvious he’d found Lily’s out himself, yet she’d felt no shame and it was much tamer than her brother’s.
Willow's could only upset Wren and his secret had been a burn on his reputation. We still hadn’t found Brans, but both of Merle’s were to definitely ruin his relationship.
The end goal I assume was to cut their hotel dreams before it even started.