The Write Stuff (Write Stuff 1)

"So, how are you doing?" His question was vague, but I knew what he was getting at. The real reason I had woken up early. I would be kidding myself if I thought I wouldn't stress about it all day—the release of Wicked Lovely. I had been manically anticipating this day while dreading it at the same time. I'd gone through four other release days and it never seemed to get any easier. If anything, it got harder each time. When I released my first book, I didn't know what to expect, but now that I was a little more seasoned, the pressure had increased tenfold. I'd confessed my fears and apprehensions to Alec the night before over a bottle of wine we had downed during dinner. The liquor had loosened my tongue, and I'm sure I had come across as a complete whiner.

"I'm fine," I lied. Truthfully, I was ready to pull my hair out. Olivia and I had gone to great lengths to arrange release day posts, including the e-book purchase links, with several bloggers who were gracious enough to help with the launch. They had been scheduled to post simultaneously at eight a.m. Eastern time. Planning ahead was one of the ways I had learned to cope with the stress of release day. Now it was a waiting game to see how the book would be received. Initial reviews had been coming from the advanced copies Olivia had sent out, and all of them had exceeded my expectations. The next few days would determine how my readers took to the story and reveal if they were ready to accept a new series from me. Normally, I spent release day holed up in my apartment in a junk food coma, obsessively checking sales numbers and social media sites to gauge public reaction. This time I vowed to not obsess as much. Actually, it was more Olivia's idea than mine. She felt it was the only thing that would maintain my sanity since I was away from home for this release. Her reasoning was sound. There was no way I could concentrate during the book signing if I was checking my phone every five seconds. I had only agreed when she promised to send me periodic texts regarding the book's progress. We devised a code that wouldn't make sense to anyone but the two of us. It was based on my obsession with the group A Great Big World, and the code words were the titles of some of their songs. If the book was doing well, Olivia would text "Rockstar." If it was doing fair, she would text "You'll Be Okay," and if it was totally tanking, she'd send "Cheer Up." Her message wouldn't come in until later this evening after the book had been live for the majority of the day. By then we would know. Now, staring at my phone in my hand, I was ready to throw the plan out the window and follow the book's progress myself.

"I can see the only way to help is to spend the day distracting you."

"True," I said, pressing my butt against him.

He chuckled, sliding his hand down my hip. "That would work for me, but isn't the signing at ten today?" He glanced at the clock on the end table.

I groaned, pulling a pillow over my face. I must have been insane when I agreed to do a signing on release day. Obviously, I must enjoy torture.

Alec left the pillow in place, but tugged the blankets down, exposing my naked body. The cool air kissed my skin, causing goosebumps to form. I felt exposed and self-conscious. "I think we have a little time," he said as he kissed his way between my legs. "Consider this the beginning of Operation Distraction."

To say his plan was successful would be putting it mildly. By the time we left the room an hour and a half later, I was feeling downright content. Alec was more intoxicating than the bottle of wine we had shared the night before.

Operation Distraction didn't end with the mind-numbing sex. Alec also maintained a running commentary, peppering me with personal questions that had nothing to do with writing. He kept things silly, like the first cartoon I remembered seeing, and which character was my favorite growing up. We bantered back and forth over the best movies of all time, which for me wasn't even close. Pride and Prejudice any day of the week. While waiting in line at Starbucks, he moved the questions to favorite and least favorite foods. We both preferred pizza, although he was a New York-style guy while I liked deep dish.

By the time the event started, Alec was as busy as always, taking picture after picture with the long line of screaming females. The difference this time, however, was that I was receiving just as much attention. Readers were making a point to tell me how they had already downloaded Wicked Lovely and were excited to start reading it. I was being congratulated like I had won some sort of prize. Beyond the praise and sudden overwhelming recognition, the demand for signed Wicked Lovely paperbacks was far more than I had anticipated. Olivia had shipped fifty copies to the hotel, which was more than I had ever sold of any of my books at an event. I sold out after only an hour into the signing. I didn't know what to make of things, but I also had no time to give it a second thought. Even if Olivia had texted me, I couldn't have checked my phone. The activity at my table was nonstop for three hours.

I sat in my chair once the signing had finished, feeling completely spent. My hand actually cramped from signing my name so many times. That also had never happened before.

"That was insane. I don't think I looked over one time when you weren't talking to someone or signing something," Alec said, breaking down my banner.

"I know, right? I've never gotten that kind of response at an event. I want so badly to check the status of Wicked Lovely, but I promised Olivia. I just wish she would send me something."

"Hey, regardless of how it's doing, you just had your best event yet. You deserve a celebratory dinner."

He had a point. I didn't buy it completely, but it was still valid. If the signing today was any indication, Wicked Lovely might actually be making a splash in e-book sales. Time would tell. We made quick work of packing up my things before heading to the room to freshen up before dinner.

The restaurant we chose was on the small side and offered an upscale cuisine. Alec insisted on paying, which made me feel terrible considering the prices on the menu. I knew he was on a tight budget.

"So, here's to Wicked Lovely. May the odds be in its favor," he said, raising his glass of wine.

I glared at him without raising my glass. "You did not just say that. Good book, good movie, but so the wrong genre and category."

He laughed. "I'm just teasing. Seriously though. Congrats on your book. I'm sure it's killing it."

"You're a big part of it, you know," I said, clinking my glass with his. "Try to accept this without your head getting too big to fit out the door, but you made the cover. This book is getting attention because of that pretty face." Actually, Alec had done more than his share during our trip. Not only had he excelled at drawing readers to my table with his abs, but he'd also taken on extra duties like lugging all my crap around, setting things up for me, and acting as my personal bodyguard and sex slave. All the lines had been blurred now that we were in whatever this relationship thing was we had going on.

"You don't have to pay for my meal," I told him after the waiter took our orders.

He rolled his eyes, reaching across the table to lace his fingers through mine. "You know, it's okay for someone to do something nice for you, especially the guy you're seeing. Today is a special day, and as such, I want to buy my girl dinner."

"I like when you say that," I admitted, running my thumb over the back of his knuckles. I found myself craving his touch and missing it when it wasn't happening. I'm sure it wasn't healthy, but I didn't care.

"Which part?"

"The being your girl part. It's like we're going steady."

"Is this where I give you my class ring?" he teased as the waiter returned with artichoke dip and freshly made pita chips.

"Most definitely. And I'll need a picture for my locker."

"Nude?" I almost choked on my sip of wine, glancing around to make sure no one could hear us.

"Sure. Here, let me take it now," I said, holding up my phone like I was expecting him to strip in the middle of the swanky restaurant.

He tugged at his shirt, revealing a section of his chiseled abs. "Works for me."