15. Chapter Fifteen #2
Paige’s expression twisted in frustration.
She leaned in, her voice going low and sincere.
“That was right after my editor left, before Kaylor came on. I don’t know who passed that on to Marsha, but it wasn’t right.
” She reached across the table and touched the back of his hand.
“You’re an amazing writer, Ethan. Why do you think I agreed to write a book with you? ”
He scanned her face, analyzing her expression, looking to align what he knew with what she was telling him. “To get a new contract? Publicity?”
She nodded and shrugged. “Yes. I needed both. But I wouldn’t stake my name on something I didn’t believe in.”
His heart gave a strange, lurching thud-thud.
“I read The Last Bullet ,” she added. “It’s great. You’re great. But that book’s audience isn’t the same as mine. My readers would’ve been confused. The Last Bullet is a thriller. There’s no romance. The heroine was more of a plot device than a partner.”
Ethan opened his mouth to argue—then shut it again. She wasn’t wrong. The hero’s self-discovery was the central focus of his last book. Honestly, he’d only thrown in a female partner and a few kissing scenes at the strong “request” by Marsha.
Paige’s gaze softened. “What you’re writing now?
This is different. There’s heart. Connection.
Vulnerability.” She reached for her pen and started spinning it slowly on the table.
“This book we’re writing together, I think it will hit both of our audiences, with the romance and the suspenseful action. ”
Warmth spread through his chest, her words like a matchstick striking flint. “I’m glad you like my writing.”
“I love it,” she replied, her gaze cementing her words. Then she nudged him playfully under the table with her foot. “But don’t let it go to your head, Cole. We’ve got a good thing going. Don’t mess it up with an inflated ego.”
He grinned, basking in her praise and the teasing way she said his name. And as she bent back over her laptop, scanning more of his words, Ethan reluctantly turned to his book again, though his focus remained squarely on her.
They worked like that for the next hour, wrapped in quiet companionship.
Occasionally, Paige would read a sentence aloud, grinning or sighing dramatically.
He loved the way she engaged with his words, how fully she dropped into the world they were building.
Their story. Every time she laughed at one of his jokes or clutched her chest during a swoony moment, it chipped away at every insecurity he’d had about his writing.
They passed ideas back and forth like a tennis match, tossing out banter, side-eyeing each other’s teasing words, strengthening the story—until Paige leaned back with a yawn.
“I need to stretch,” she said, running her fingers through her hair. “And get some caffeine. You want a coffee? I’ll get us some.”
“That’d be great,” he said, smiling as Paige stood from her seat.
“Hold down the fort.” She winked and tapped the table. “Energy boost coming shortly.”
Ethan watched her walk away, the sunlight catching in her curls as she disappeared beyond the atrium’s glass doors. He leaned back in his seat, exhaling contentedly. The warm light. Her laughter still hanging in the air. The fullness in his chest. He soaked in the moment.
With a sigh, he turned back to the open book in front of him, flipping pages, searching for an envelope tucked amongst the words, wondering how many books they’d peruse before discovering the next clue. But as he turned pages, a soft buzz interrupted his thoughts.
Out of the corner of his eye, Paige’s phone lit up. He hadn’t realized she’d left it behind. It buzzed twice, the screen glowing against the tabletop. Ethan didn’t mean to look, but the message was right there, staring at him, impossible to miss.
GambleOnLove : You have a new message from a match!
His breath caught.
Ethan blinked, as if the notification would disappear. As if he’d misread it. But the message stayed there, bright and bold. Staring at him. Taunting. Telling him everything he thought he knew was wrong.
Paige was still using the dating app.
She was still swiping and searching.
While he’d been falling for her, she’d been looking for someone else.
The realization was a sucker punch to the gut. He stared at the phone, heart thudding against his ribs. Everything between them—every laugh, kiss, touch—had felt real. But now? It felt tainted. Was this still pretend for Paige?
Ethan forced himself to look away, his stomach twisting into a knot he wasn’t sure he could unravel. Picking up his book again, he stared at the pages but didn’t truly see them.
The earlier glow. Her praise, the banter, that kiss on the escalator. It all felt like a memory from another lifetime. Something he’d dreamed up and written in a story.
He was still in that daze when Paige returned, sliding back into the seat across from him.
“Did you miss me?” she asked, her voice light and teasing as she set two coffees on the table.
Ethan lifted his head, managing a tight smile. “Of course.” But the warmth he’d been enjoying was gone. Because now, doubt weighed heavily on his shoulders.
Paige didn’t seem to notice. She flipped open her laptop, humming under her breath, sipping her coffee as if nothing had changed.
Ethan stared down at his cup, grabbing hold and letting the heat seep into his palm, trying to quiet the questions zipping through his head. Was he just a stepping stone on the way to her next book? To someone else? Someone better?
The pain was too familiar. It whispered of Tatiana.
That same blindside, that same sinking sensation, like he’d opened his heart only to realize the other person hadn’t wanted it at all.
He sat frozen, not able to shake the sharp sound of that notification.
Couldn’t stop seeing the message that had brought him back to reality.
Because his heart was flashing a completely different message. He didn’t just want Paige to love his writing. He wanted her to love him.