Chapter One
CHAPTER ONE
TOBIAS
Present Day
A bad day can always be fixed by writing. It doesn’t even have to be a lot of words. Maybe just a couple hundred. And it doesn’t have to be in one of the many romances I’m currently writing. I could just open a blank document and write precisely what I’m thinking, get it off my mind. Of course, I could just share my thoughts with my friends—I trust them more than anyone else—but writing has never let me down either. Both are a solid choice.
I glance up from my computer. All my friends are here with me today. No matter where our lives take us, we always make time once a week to get together and write. We dabble in all areas of the romance genre, but writing is what brought us together. Maybe that’s why I trust it so much. It’s brought a lot of good into my life. Words are powerful and change lives more than most people realize.
Today is a quiet day at The Space. The Space is a public workspace Simon, one of the guys sitting at this table, and I opened last year. We both had our reasons for wanting to open this place, but we share this: no matter how much our lives changed over the years, we wanted the group to always have a place to get together.
Sure, we could have picked someone's home, but we’re realistic. Aside from me, they’re all on their way to getting engaged, married, or growing their families, and having a group of six adult men show up to take over the living room or kitchen to work doesn’t seem sensible.
“Something on your mind?” Hero asks, sitting across from me.
I shake my head. “Just thinking about this scene.”
And how to finish it, because who are these characters? I have no idea anymore.
I glance at the word count. Thirty thousand words later, and what the hell have I been writing?
Typical.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Zane, who is sitting next to Hero, asks as he looks up.
One by one, Graham, Beck, and Simon also move their attention from their laptops to me. This is an open opportunity, but I take a quick glance at the time. They’ll all be heading out soon. I’m not sure what my problem is when it comes to writing these days, so I don't even know where to begin.
“No. I think I’ve got it,” I lie. “I’m just trying to figure out how to rephrase the opening paragraph.”
They all nod as if they get it, and I’m sure they do in a way. Writing is a challenging career. We second-guess ourselves almost daily, but god, I love it. In addition to making a story come full circle, the thrill of problem-solving a plot and seeing the characters reach the happily ever after they deserve—I can’t get enough of it.
Still, something is off with me. I haven’t finished a book in two years. Two years .
I write about 75 percent of the story and then I stop. I move on to a new one. Over and over. I have nine unfinished books saved on my computer. I know sticking to my niche and sticking to my style is what my readers want, but I’m … uninspired, maybe. I don’t know.
I rub the back of my neck and let out a breath.
Fuck. What is wrong with me?
The entrance door opens, pulling Hero’s attention. “It's crazy how busy this place gets. It’s no wonder you opened a second location in Colorado.”
“We’re looking at properties to expand to a third location, also in Colorado,” I tell them. Turns out, people really love having a place they can go. Since we don’t sell food or drinks, people can bring in anything they like, and honestly, I’m not shocked that the residents of Wind Valley take care of this place as if it were their own. I had been worried it would get trashed by the occasional lazy person, but so far, so good.
Our low membership fees are also why this place has been so busy. People have the Internet at home, so we had to ensure it would be worth it. Location is also a plus. Somewhere to go instead of driving home when they’re already downtown. Wind Valley isn’t a big city, but it could still take some fifteen to twenty minutes to get across town.
Not to mention that over this past summer, we dove headfirst into making this space available for weddings, parties, work meetings, or whatever someone needs.
It’s been more successful than we imagined. When we started, I thought it would take up a lot of writing time, but it doesn’t. So I know starting and running this company with Simon isn’t my problem.
I built a place for me to write.
I just can’t seem to do it.
“Really? A third location?” Beck asks with surprise in his eyes. “That’s amazing.”
He pats Simon on the back and then reaches across the table to give me knuckles.
I chuckle. I’ve known these guys for twelve years now, and sometimes I feel like we forget how old we are.
Do guys in their thirties still give knuckles?
Obviously, the answer is yes since I just did it.
“Lucky for us,” Simon speaks up, “Tobias is willing to take on more work here in the scheduling department, and he’s done most of the traveling. He’s basically running it on his own.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Once we sign that new lease, it’s just scheduling and then crossing our fingers that contractors and designers do their job by the time they say they will. Plus, we’re in different places in life. The work here is equal as far as I see it.”
Beck clears his throat, and when silence falls over the table, I know they’re all itching to make a follow-up comment. The part about where we are in life.
No one speaks up, and for that, I’m grateful.
My dating life, or lack thereof, has been a hot topic lately. I’ve lost count of the number of times they have all mentioned someone they think I should ask out: the new barista at Loves a Brewing, the woman who moved in next door to Hero and Nora, the woman who just ran by the window and looks like she might be single. Yes, that happened last week.
I get it. They’re in love and want that for everyone around them. I’m not even mad that they want me to have what they have. It’s just not in the cards for me right now.
I need to figure out this writing rut I’m in first.
Sighing, Zane looks at his watch. “I need to get going. Willa and I have been trying out new recipes for the blog she and Greer started, and she needs me to stop at the store.”
“That reminds me,” Simon says as he closes his computer. “I have a bag of stuff in my car that Greer says is important for the photo aesthetics on their new page.”
One of my favorite things about my friends is, not only are we all driven people but the people who have become part of our lives are too. Every single one of them is out there making their dreams come true, and they’ve managed to find the perfect partner to stand behind them on the way.
I’ll admit I’m a bit of a sappy guy regarding my friends, but hell, I got lucky. I’m not afraid to admit it.
Slowly, Graham, Hero, and Beck pack their things too.
“Dinner at my house next weekend,” Hero calls out.
“Next weekend?” Becks clarifies.
“Yeah.”
“Natalie’s engagement party is next weekend.”
“Oh, right. I forgot.”
All eyes drift to me.
Again.
“What now?” I ask, not moving from my spot. I intend to finish more work before heading home for the day.
“Nothing,” Hero says while Beck and Graham mumble something I imagine is along the same lines.
For as long as I can remember, all my friends have had this fantasy that my best friend Natalie Miller and I are supposed to end up together.
No matter how many times we both tell them that we are nothing more than friends, just friends, the best of friends, actually, it’s like they don’t hear us. Hell, Natalie is getting married, and as Beck just mentioned, her engagement party is next weekend. An engagement and a wedding all in under six months seems fast to me, but maybe that’s just how it goes for some people.
Truth be told, I think that’s more a Griffin, her fiancé, thing than a Natalie thing. I’ve known her for a decade and rushing seems way more like her fiancé’s style. Then again, he did take four years to propose to her, so what do I know?
I wave goodbye as the guys all leave me behind. I glance around The Space—our members are all focused on their work. My group had been sitting at the biggest table in the room, and now that the guys are gone, there’s no sense in me taking up space out here.
I grab my things and head into the office in the back.
Maybe it’s time I did something significant with my life: move to a different state or perhaps even date someone and actually put effort into it.
Neither of those thoughts appeals to me, though.
I love Wind Valley and want to stay here. If I ever left, it would be to Lovers, where my grandma lives, but I don't see that happening anytime soon.
I close the door behind me, and as soon as I pull out the chair and sit down, a text comes in.
Natalie
Hey, Casanova! Are we still on for tomorrow?
I groan at her nickname for me. Ten years. Ten years, and she won’t give me a new one. I think I’ve earned it by now. Then again, I’ve only ever had one for her, but since she met Griffin, it doesn't feel suitable to use it. I just call her Natalie or Nat now, and she seems okay with it.
Tobias
Pizza at my place, and let’s pick a new nickname for me.
Natalie:
Perfect. I’ll bring my laptop so we can go over your social media posts for next month. And not a chance
Splendid. That’s exactly what I want to do right now when my writing career is at a standstill: create social media posts. But hell, just because I’m stuck on the words doesn't mean I need to fail in all areas.
Tobias
Bring your A-game for the posts.
Natalie:
Oh no. What happened?
Tobias:
Do you want the extended version or the short one?
Natalie:
Short for now. Long later.
Tobias:
The short version is that I still haven’t written a book for my editor, so she removed me from her list.
Natalie:
Do you want me to come by now? I have time. We can talk it out. You know what? Don’t answer that. I’m headed your way.
Typical Natalie. Outside of the guys, she’s the one person who has always been there for me. She supports me in ways I never imagined a friend could. Hell, she was the first person I told I wrote romance, outside of the guys and my grandma Betty. She knew before my parents and my little sister, Quinn.
I knew the moment I met Natalie that she would be different, but this moment reminds me just how lucky I am to have her in my life.
Hell, she’s supposed to be planning a wedding, but she’s ready to drop everything to help me instead.
Yeah, she and Nora own the company that does all my social media and promotions, but Natalie was doing it way before they started getting paid for it.
Tobias:
I’ll be fine till tomorrow. I have other things to keep me busy.
Natalie:
Are you sure? I can be there in five minutes.
Tobias:
I’m sure. See you tomorrow night.
Natalie:
I’m bringing the newest book from Dana Volney for you to binge-read. Maybe you just need to escape.
Tobias:
I always like a good escape. It’s the best palate cleanser.
Natalie:
If you change your mind, let me know. Griffin left this morning for San Francisco, so I’m free.
I’m about to text her back when my computer dings. It’s like a sign that I need to get off my phone and get back to work.
So I settle into my seat and open the computer.
First up is an email from my agent, Doug.
Good ole Doug has been with me and all the guys since college. He didn’t go to school planning to be a literary agent, but he met us, and things kind of snowballed for him. Now he’s running the most well-known agency in the industry and producing bestsellers, movies, and television shows daily. Of course, none of those are my books because I currently suck at writing. Specifically, completing a story.
Maybe this is how I go out, you know? How my career ends.
Doug’s email will be something I need to process, so I choose to get it out of the way. If I don't read it, I'll obsess over it, and then I really won’t get any work done.
About a month ago, I caved and finally told Doug I was struggling to finish a book. Before that, I just gave him the line “I’m working on it” or “I’m almost done” or my personal favorite, “I just need one more round of edits.” Admitting failure isn’t easy for me. Doug recommended that I send him the first few chapters of each title, and he would shop around at different publishing houses. I’d love to self-publish them like most of my backlist, but maybe if someone else saw their potential, I'd finish one. I don’t know. At this point, I’m so desperate to finish a book that I will try anything. What I do know is, according to Doug, my name is well known enough that some publishers would contract me even on an incomplete, but today is not that day.
I read quickly, but the words boring, slow, weird, cliché , and out of character all stand out like bold letters.
Well, if I wasn’t feeling like my career was stalled before, I sure am now.