Chapter 12
LIVVI
Ibalanced my latte in one hand and angled my phone in the other as I walked back to work, waiting for the little red light to blink before starting. The second it did, I put on my best mock-serious face for Cali.
“Okay, buckle up, because I have news. Big news. You’re going to scream at me through your screen when you watch this, I just know it.
” I let out a dramatic sigh and started walking again, the sound of traffic and chatter filling the background.
“So, remember how I ran into Talon at the bar the other night? Who I was absolutely, positively, one hundred percent sure I was not going to run into again?”
I paused for effect, then widened my eyes at the camera. “Yeah. Guess who just sat down at my table at lunch today?”
I shook my head, still in disbelief. “Crazy, right? And not only did he sit down—like, full confidence, no hesitation—but he started talking to me like we’ve known each other forever.
Opening up about his dad and the pressure he feels with swimming.
Meanwhile I’m over there trying not to choke while drinking my latte because, apparently, I’ve forgotten how to function like a normal human being. ”
I brought the phone closer, whisper-shouting like I was telling Cali the juiciest gossip. “And Cali, he asked me to give him book recommendations. Actual romance novels. I know. I know. I almost fainted right there with my latte in hand.”
My cheeks heated even just retelling it, and I hurried to explain.
“Somehow we got talking about what romantasy books are and then he was saying how he likes feisty heroines, which I tried not to swoon at. And then suddenly I’m about to leave because I didn’t even realize that I was late getting back to work, and he’s like, ‘Do you have any good book recommendations for me?’ Which—no pressure, right?
Only now I’m in charge of single-handedly introducing this six-foot-three, tattooed enigma of a man to the wide world of romantic fantasy books. ”
I continued to hold the camera out and gave a dry look.
“And, of course, I said yes and put my number in his phone. Because apparently I’m incapable of forming boundaries when it comes to this man no matter how much I say I’m going to be strong and not be influenced by everything that makes him Talon Everhart. ”
My phone buzzed in my hand, cutting through my dramatic retelling. I glanced up at the top of my screen, expecting an email or some random notification, but the unknown number on the screen stopped me mid-stride.
Unknown Number
Enjoyed running into you today. Can’t wait for that list you promised.
I blinked at it, the corner of my mouth tugging upward before I could stop it. Then I turned my attention back to the recording, my eyes wide for Cali’s future viewing pleasure.
“Cali. He just texted me.” My voice dropped into an incredulous whisper. “He texted me. Do you understand what kind of spiral I’m about to go into over this?”
Things like this didn’t happen to me. I was a workaholic who didn’t have a social life. I was not the getting-texts-from-ridiculously-good-looking-men kind of person.
And yet … with that message, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe (fingers crossed)—that was starting to change.
I ended the recording as the office building came into view and slipped the phone back into my bag. But I couldn’t resist pulling it out again before I even hit the revolving doors.
Livvi
I’ll work on the list tonight. Hope you’re ready for a full-on crash course in classics and hidden gems.
His reply came fast.
Talon
I’m ready. Bring it on.
That stupid, fluttery warmth swirled around me again. It carried me through the rest of the afternoon, even as I sat at my desk pretending to care about numbers when really all I wanted to do was Google “best romantasy starter books for intimidatingly handsome swimmers.”
By the time I got home that night, I’d already pulled a stack of my favorites from my shelf and spread them across my bed. Some I’d read several times, pages dog-eared and worn soft. Others were newer, books I wanted to keep in mint condition.
I lined them up and snapped a picture, sending it with a message.
Livvi
This is the short list. Try not to be intimidated.
A bubble appeared, then disappeared, then appeared again—like he was typing, deleting, and starting over. Finally, his response came through.
Talon
You’re really doing this, huh? Giving me homework.
I smirked, sinking deeper into my pillows.
Livvi
Call it … required reading for being friends with me.
Another pause before his response came through.
Talon
Then I’ll read every single one.
I stared at his words longer than I meant to. There was something in the simplicity of it that made my throat go tight.
A few minutes later, my phone buzzed again.
Talon
Also, did you really think I could be intimidated that easily?
Before I could roll my eyes, another message came through—this time a picture. He was sprawled across a leather chair, book in hand, with his tattoo that I loved on display, eyebrows lifted like he was waiting to be graded on his form.
He was far too attractive for his own good. Of course he was. Like the universe was really going to make it easy on me. What I hadn’t expected was the massive fish tank glowing behind him, filled with colorful coral but eerily empty.
Livvi
Okay, first of all, you’re holding that book upside down.
Second … you have an aquarium?
The dots bounced.
Talon
Caught me. Upside-down reading is an advanced skill.
The fish tank? Purely decorative. It came with the apartment, but I don’t have any fish.
I snorted, typing back.
Livvi
What kind of person has a giant aquarium with no fish?
Talon
One who doesn’t have time to keep them alive.
Livvi
So you’re admitting you’re irresponsible.
Talon
I prefer realistic. Between practices, workouts, recovery, and meets, I barely keep myself alive.
Livvi
Good point. But still … poor empty tank.
His reply came quicker this time.
Talon
You volunteering to fish-sit?
Livvi
Tempting, but I’d probably overfeed them. Death by kindness.
Talon
Guess we’re both liabilities. Better stick with books.
I bit back a smile, curling into my pillows. It was easy with him—too easy. Every text pulled me deeper, like we were tossing a ball back and forth, neither of us wanting to let it drop.
Another buzz.
Talon
What about you? Any pets?
Livvi
Nope. Just me and my books.
Talon
Figures. You strike me as someone who’d pick fictional characters over real people any day.
Livvi
Depends on the people.
I stared at those four words on the screen, my thumb hesitating over the send button. Too much? Too obvious? But I pressed it anyway.
The dots appeared. Disappeared. Then came back.
Talon
Fair enough.
That was all. But my stomach still did this weird twisty thing, like his short reply carried something unsaid beneath it.
The conversation slowed after that, drifting into silence the way texts sometimes did.
The quiet filled my room, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.
It was the kind that made me want to keep checking my phone, just in case.
It wasn’t until I adjusted and my neck cracked that I realized how late it had gotten.
My eyes burned from staring at the screen.
And that’s when I noticed what I hadn’t done.
I hadn’t once thought to check BookPad.
Normally, I’d be halfway through a conversation with TheWriteGuy by now, hanging on every word, grinning like an idiot at his messages. But tonight? Nothing.
My shoulders dipped with guilt.
Because it wasn’t that I’d forgotten him. It was worse. I’d been so caught up in Talon—his teasing, his stupid aquarium, the way he’d said he’d read every single one of my favorite books—that I hadn’t even wanted to check.
Heat crawled up the back of my neck.
I liked TheWriteGuy. I did. He was safe, easy to talk to, someone who made me feel understood. But Talon … Talon was real. Tangible. Messy and frustrating and right there in front of me.
And now I was stuck between the two of them—caught in the middle of something I wasn’t ready to acknowledge but couldn’t ignore either.
I sat up, tugging the blanket away as if sitting straighter would clear the heaviness pressing down on me. My phone felt suddenly heavier too, the glow of the screen far too bright.
I opened BookPad with a swipe, my heart thudding harder than it should’ve.
There it was—his username at the top of my inbox. A new message. Sent hours ago.
The screen blurred for a second as guilt pricked sharp behind my eyes. I blinked quickly, forcing myself to focus.
My finger hovered over the notification, the words taunting me: You have a new message from TheWriteGuy.
I wanted to tap it. I wanted to read what he’d said. But another part of me—the part that still felt warm from Talon’s texts, the part still hearing his voice in my head—hesitated.
I was standing in two worlds, and I wasn’t sure which one I wanted more.