I rolled my eyes. Olivia loved to make everything a little more dramatic than it actually was. "Please, if anyone had it bad, it was me. I bet I came across like a complete moron."
"Yep," she agreed, signaling the waitress.
Unable to help myself, I kicked her under the table. "Isn't there a friend clause where you're supposed to lie and tell me it wasn't all that bad?"
"Lies won't get you laid, sweet cheeks," she answered, turning to the waitress. I blanched as the waitress grinned at me. Great, why not just announce to the world that I had no man warming my bed? "I'll take another, and bring one for Cheese Puffs here too," she added.
Olivia grinned as I flipped her off. The problem was she knew I was all talk and no bite.
"So, what was your deal this morning?" She scooped salsa onto a chip and popped it into her mouth. "I know I pulled you away from one of your writing marathons, which explains the grunge-rock look, but you seemed downright flustered."
I shrugged. "I don't know. How's Natasha, by the way?" I still felt terrible for taking her under the water.
"She's cool. You definitely shocked the shit out of her though when you tackled her."
I could feel my cheeks beginning to heat up. How could I explain Alec was the source of my unexpected behavior? That my body felt the need to respond just looking at him. I may be a virgin, but I wasn't naive. I recognized hard-core lust when I felt it.
Olivia's eyes narrowed shrewdly as she studied me. Shit. She knew. I could tell by the way her eyes widened and a gleeful smile lit up her face. I ducked my head, reaching for a chip, but I had the worst poker face in existence. "Ahhhhh, the plot thickens," she crowed. "You think he could be the one to unlock the chastity belt."
Despite myself, I couldn't help snorting. "Chastity belt? Maybe you need to lay off my historical romance books. Welcome to the twenty-first century."
The waitress had returned with our drinks and laughed at my comment. "Are you two ready to order?"
"I'll take your taquitos with a side of rice and beans, and my friend obviously wants something tall, dark and beefy," Olivia said, making the three of us laugh.
"You and me both," the waitress replied, looking at me.
"Okay, spill it," Olivia demanded once I had placed my order. "I've been waiting for this moment forever. I was beginning to think you swung from the other tree. I already had it worked out in my head how I'd let you down easy when you finally made your move on me."
"Ha, you wish. If I was going to swing from that tree, it'd be for someone sweet."
She tried to look hurt. "I'm sweet, bitch."
I raised my eyebrows. "Really?"
"Fine. I was sweet once. I think I was five or some shit like that. My sister wanted the lollipop I got when I had to get a shot and I almost thought about giving it to her."
I chuckled. "I guess it's the thought that counts..."
"Damn straight. Now stop trying to evade my question. Tell me what it is about my new model that made you all hot and bothered."
"You mean besides the obvious? How did you find him, anyway? I thought you were having problems finding someone to replace Grant when he moved to New York last month."
Olivia dipped another chip into the salsa before answering. "That's an interesting story, actually. I met him when Taylor and I went out the other night."
"You guys went to that new club down by Church Street Station, right?" I piped in, dipping my own chip into the salsa.
"That's where we met him. He moonlights as a bartender when he's not in class."
"And he models too?"
"He does now," Olivia answered. "Before you showed up this morning and made your big splash, I could already tell he was going to be a natural. I mean, the abs, right? If I wasn't in a relationship, I would have to rethink my policy about not sleeping with the models. He definitely brings a temptation to the table that none of the others have."
I took a swig of my drink, letting the frozen beverage slide down my throat before answering. "That's because all your other male models are gay. You'd have more of a chance of hooking up with Natasha than any of them."
"How right you are, Sherlock. Anyway, when we were at the bar, Taylor struck up a conversation with him. Alec was wearing a Tampa Bay Bucs shirt and you know how guys feel the need to bond over sports. I was practically drooling out of boredom by the time they hashed out the Bucs chances of making it to the World Series next year."
"Super Bowl," I corrected automatically. Born and raised with three older brothers, I knew more about sports than should have been natural. All of them were total jock heads just like my dad. I spent my adolescent years living with the smell of gym socks and Bengay. I didn't care since the majority of the time I was crushing on their friends. Of course, having three older brothers who had been ordered to watch me by our overprotective father didn't help my dating life in high school. Couple that with a naturally shy personality and it was no wonder I became an introvert. Only my brothers' closest friends knew what lay beneath my bashful surface. Although they appreciated a girl who could talk sports, they never looked at me as anything more than a kid sister.
"Who cares? Super Series, World Bowl, that's not the point. While they were busy pontificating about the future of a team neither of them play for, I was checking out Alec. He's definitely comfortable in his own skin. It didn't take much convincing to get him to agree. I think he liked the idea of earning some extra cash."
I tried to keep my cheeks from turning red, but the more Olivia talked about him, the more I seemed to blush. "He definitely has cover model looks," I squeaked out.
"Wow, you are seriously smitten," Olivia mused as the waitress returned with our food.
"Now you go with smitten? Olivia, I'm not kidding. You need to open up some contemporary romances. If you start referring to women as dames and men as gents, I'm going to stage an intervention."
"What can I say? Your books got me hooked on the historical stuff. You should be pleased."
The waitress paused as she handed over my plate. "Are you a writer?" she asked with excitement. "What kind of books do you write?"
I ducked my head, nearly choking on the chip I had just shoved in my mouth. Talking about my books with strangers was still a new experience for me. I nodded my head, since I was still coughing.
"Don't mind her," Olivia answered. "She spends half her time holed up in her apartment like a hermit while she writes. Thank goodness her books are better than her social skills." She smoothly whipped out one of the bookmarks she had designed for me from her purse. "Here you go," she added, handing the bookmark over.
"Wow. This is so exciting. I'm an avid reader, much to the displeasure of my husband. He hates it when I start reading a new book. He says I completely block him out."
Finally done coughing, I was able to agree with her. "I'm the same way. I don't get to read as much as I like now since I spend all my time writing, but there's nothing like losing yourself in the pages of an amazing book."
"Yes," she answered enthusiastically, nodding for emphasis. "I can't wait to get off work and tell my husband I served an actual author. And I will definitely pick up your book."
Explaining where to go online to find my books was always awkward for me. As an indie author, none of my titles could be found in the traditional bookstores. Olivia was much better at explaining the logistics, so I let her take over the conversation. After a few moments, the waitress had the complete lowdown with all the links to find my books. Before walking away, she asked me to sign the bookmark and took out her phone for a picture. I grudgingly agreed. Not because I wasn't appreciative. I just had no idea why someone would want a picture with me. Olivia stood from the table to do the honors. "Squeeze a little closer," she said, giving me a wink. "Okay, on three say sexy." She snapped the picture and handed over the phone to our waitress who thanked us again.
"So what else are you working on this week," I asked Olivia after swallowing a bite of my "bland quesadilla" as she referred to it. Her tastes were spicier than mine. I preferred my mouth not feel like it was set on fire.
"I have a couple covers to finish and another shoot for Michelle. She wants a paranormal vibe, so I'm going to do the shoot on Thursday night. It's supposed to be a full moon as long as the clouds behave. Do you want to go out with me and Taylor tomorrow night?"
"I'm not sure. I need to finish Wicked Lovely and get it to Hollie for edits by the twelfth."
"I thought you were almost done."
"I am, but I sorta got interrupted today."
She merely raised her eyebrow at me. "I'm not letting you lay that on me. We both know you prefer to write at night anyway."
"You don't know me that well. Maybe I decided during summer break, since I don't have to worry about classes, I might try writing during the day and actually sleep at night."
"Right. I'll believe it when I see it. You're a habitual night owl."
I sighed. "True." I had always been more of a creature of the night. Even when I was younger I would stay up past my bedtime reading under my blankets with the small flashlight my oldest brother, Tony, had given me.
"I still think you should go out with us. You've been holed up in your apartment every weekend for so long I'm surprised someone hasn't come in and swapped your college ID for an AARP card. You need to get out occasionally. Let your hair down. Go wild."
"Seriously?" I snorted. "In all the years we've known each other when have I ever gone wild?" I shook my head as I wiped sour cream from the corner of my mouth.
"Well, you're still young. There's never been a better time to start. Come with us, Nicole. You'll have fun, and it'll be good for you to get out."
I pondered her words heavily as we continued our meal. I couldn't deny her point. These were the years in my life when I should be living it up a little. Besides, I enjoyed hanging out with Olivia. We had been close since middle school when she kicked Kara Miller's ass for picking on me. From that day forward, we became best friends. We had a yin-and-yang type of relationship. I was shy and reserved; she was confident and in your face.
Olivia had the type of features any girl would kill for. She was tall and had a beautiful face with long shiny black hair and drop-dead gorgeous eyes. Then there was awkward me with my pale skin, lanky hair and murky, mud-colored eyes. Olivia had always told me I was full of shit; that I was more attractive than I thought and she would kick my ass for thinking otherwise. That was why I loved her so much. She had always been a loyal friend above all else.
"Hello, Nicole. You're zoning out again." Olivia snapped her fingers in my face, getting my attention. Everyone who knew me had gotten used to my occasional zoning out. Most times it was because I was thinking about my current work in progress. My brothers would tease me, claiming they could actually see smoke coming out of my ears.
"Sorry," I said, dunking the quesadilla in guacamole.
"So, tomorrow? You in?"
I nodded. "I guess. I can always write when I get home."
Olivia smiled with satisfaction. For the rest of the meal we discussed my new cover. I managed to dodge the Alec issue by refusing to acknowledge any more of Olivia's comments on the matter. Eventually we came up with a game plan on how to handle the reshoot. Ironically, after everything that happened on the beach this morning, she admitted it was all for the best because the pose she had envisioned for the models had been overdone and she already had another idea—if she could get the lighting perfect, of course. That was her standard worry for every shoot. At least she was back on track, which was all I cared about.
We left the practically frigid temperature of the restaurant for the sweltering heat outside. I was surprised I didn't get sick more often. "Well, what's the verdict? Si or no on the taquitos?"
"Not bad. It wasn't SoCal good, obviously, but maybe we'll keep it in the rotation. Me and Taylor will swing by your place at eight tomorrow to pick you up."
"Okay, but no sushi this time." The last time Olivia had tried to expand my palate I ended up gagging and nearly vomiting on the waiter's shoes. It wasn't something the staff at the restaurant took too kindly, but lesson learned.
Olivia chuckled. "Fine, but who knew you would be such a baby?"
I stuck my tongue out at her as I climbed into my jeep.
Chapter Four
By two o'clock the following afternoon I was regretting my snap decision to go out with Olivia and Taylor. My groove had returned and I stayed up all night writing. I'd likely suffer the consequences later, but for now I had a euphoric feeling as all the pieces of my story began to click together. I knew if I didn't want to be a complete zombie when I went out later, I needed to get a couple hours of sleep in. Tearing myself away from my manuscript was tough, but at three o'clock I forced myself to shut it down.
Placing my laptop on the empty side of my bed, I laid back against my pillows, hoping my eyes would become heavy quickly. The problem was, after a long writing session I couldn't turn off my brain immediately, so I usually just laid there full of adrenaline. I figured if I was in bed I was technically resting. That was the reasoning I had used on my parents when I was younger. Thanks to the blackout curtains I had bought, my room was plunged into darkness after I shut off my lamp. I set the alarm on my cell phone for six thirty, resisting the urge to peek at Facebook or check my emails.
Severus had been waiting patiently at the foot of my bed and now walked up my legs, taking his customary spot on my stomach. He wasn't exactly fat by cat standards, but he was solid. I grunted under his weight as he made bread dough on the blanket until he was satisfied he would be comfortable. I closed my eyes while petting Severus on the head. I must have been more tired than I realized because I felt myself drifting away to the steady rumble of his purring.
Sometime later, I was startled awake by the sound of pounding on my front door. Severus meowed his displeasure when I abruptly sat up, dislodging him from my stomach. I felt disoriented. My room remained dark regardless of what time of the day it was because of my curtains. Groping around my desk, I managed to find my phone and tapped the button to light up the screen. Another series of pounding on the door echoed throughout the apartment. I groaned when I saw that it was eight o'clock.