“Thank you,” I tell her, appreciating the thought and support more than anything.
Daysha passes around my thumb drive, and within a minute of everyone’s opening the file, we’re all going at it. They’re reading the last few chapters, making notes for discussion or tweaks, and I’m writing forward from my last stopping point. New hope blooms that I might be able to do this and do it in a quality way that will make this book my new favorite thing I’ve ever written.
I’m so thankful that we all help each other this way. All five of us are better writers since we started calling each other on our shit, pushing us to do more and be better.
While they read, I put on my earbuds with my hand-selected inspirational playlist for these characters and pour the story in my mind onto the computer screen. I’m down to hours, not days on my deadline, it seems, and the situation is so tense that even Hilda’s leaving me alone simply because she knows that the minutes she wastes yapping my ear off are minutes I can’t work.
I’m furiously working until I feel eyes on me. I glance at the computer clock to see if I finished a sprint, ready for the donut hole, but find that I still have six minutes left on the timer. I look up from my screen questioningly to see all four women with their eyes looking just beyond me.
“What?” I turn around, not sure if I’m expecting it to be Hilda demanding the book, Hunter telling me I fucked up, or Mr. Big coming back to take his revenge. All of those options are terrifying.
It’s none of those people.
It’s Connor. Finally.
I stand up, my knees quaking as I walk over to the door, not quite believing what I’m seeing.
“Are you real?” With a hesitant smile, I poke him in the stomach, which is rock hard beneath his black T-shirt. Seeing him, alive and in the flesh, relieves so many worries and fears. Ones that have been keeping me awake at night and distracting me from my writing. Ones that have kept my breath tight in my chest and my heart feeling hollow.
“I’m real,” Connor says, his voice insistent, his eyes burning. “I’m here for you.”
Tears sting my eyes, and I cover my mouth with my hands to keep from squealing too loudly in the library. But a pretty loud, high-pitched sound still gets out through my fingers, and the librarian shushes me.
I should tell her to stop interrupting my big romantic moment, but I can’t take my eyes from Connor. He’s really here. We have a lot to figure out still, but that he’s here means it was real. I’m not crazy, not wrong about that.
I leap into his arms, quickly wrapping my legs around his waist in what he calls my ‘koala maneuver’. Without even waiting, I pepper his cheeks with kisses, feeling his hands squeeze my ass tight.
“Does this mean you’ve forgiven me?” he asks uncertainly. My lips are pressed to the corner of his mouth when he asks, so I feel the slowly blooming smile on his lips.
Daysha interrupts, slyly inquiring, “Forgiven for what, exactly?”
I don’t answer. All my attention is on Connor. I want to hold on to him and never let go, or crawl under his skin and write my name on his heart, or both.
“Of course!” I reply into his neck, trying my best not to lick it like a lollipop yet. But I give in and swipe my tongue over his skin just a little, tasting the salty musk that’s uniquely him and thinking, ‘I licked him, he’s mine.’ “If you forgive me too.”
Aleria hums, apparently hearing that one. “Ooh, she fucked up too. Must be why she needs the sage. But her aura is already looking better.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Poppy,” Connor says, holding me tighter to whisper in my ear, “I love you.”
The words are quiet, meant for just me and him, but my girls hear him clearly in the otherwise quiet room, and they gasp. I do too, especially when he slowly rubs the tip of his nose against mine in a tender move that makes my inner romantic sigh in blissed out delight.
He lays a soft kiss to my jaw, my cheek, and then my earlobe before saying it again, his breath hot against my skin. “I love you.”
Then he nips my earlobe with his teeth, claiming me and making me yelp in happy surprise. That’s the Connor I know. “I love you too!”
That was definitely too loud, but even the librarian is looking at us in wide-eyed wonder since we’re basically making out in the historical fiction section.
“Oh, my gawd! Did you hear that?” Becca squeals as she claps her hands enthusiastically, grinning like a fool. “They’re in love! I’m swooning! It’s like a book to real-life adaptation right in front of us.” At the librarian’s glare at the noise, Becca clasps her hands under her chin, looking ridiculously happy and near tears. “Where is Netflix when you need them? I vote for Julia Roberts to play Poppy because of the red hair.”