The Write Stuff (Write Stuff 1)

I giggled but didn't stop him, deciding to call his bluff.

His shirt made it up to his pecs before he conceded. "I think you would have let me keep going."

"You better believe it. Dinner and a show, baby," I teased, grinning wickedly.

"I knew it. I've created a monster." He pretended to frown, but the effect was ruined when he slid his leg along mine under the table. "You're just using me for my body," he added.

"Well, that's a given. Have you seen your abs?"

He clutched his heart as the waiter came out with our salads. "I'm wounded. I'm nothing but your sex toy."

I blushed as the waiter grinned broadly.

"I got you something," he said once the waiter left.

My eyes widened. "You did?" I was used to receiving little gifts from Mom growing up. She was one of those people who would spot special little things wherever she happened to be that she knew a particular person would love.

This was my first gift from a guy I wasn't related to.

"Close your eyes," he directed.

I eyed him skeptically for a moment. If Zach, Tony and Riley had taught me anything, it was that you never closed your eyes when they wanted to give you something. That's how I ended up with a handful of worms one time and a small snake in my lap another time. Dad had threatened to ground them for life after the second prank since he wasn't overly fond of snakes.

"Close them," he repeated.

"Fine, but you better not be handing me some yucky bug or anything."

He chuckled but waited for me to close my eyes.

Reluctantly, I let my eyelids slide closed. He took my hand in his and I instinctively snatched it back. "Sorry, habit," I said.

He took my hand again and caressed my palm with his finger before I felt the touch of cool metal slide over my fingers and onto my wrist. "You can open them now."

Opening my eyes, I saw a silver bangle on my wrist with a metal ornament pressed on the center. It only took me a moment to realize the ornament was an etching of a peacock feather. Overwhelmed, I ran a finger over it, trying to hold back tears.

"To new beginnings," Alec said, reaching for my hand.

I opened my mouth to thank him, but the dinging of my phone interrupted me. I looked at my phone that I had deliberately placed face down on the table. I knew the text was from Olivia. As soon as I flipped it over, I would know if all our hard work had paid off. Her text would confirm whether the story, the gorgeous cover, endless teasers and help from my blogger and author friends had been enough.

"Do you want me to look?" Alec asked.

I shook my head. "No, I got it." I dragged my lip between my teeth, gnawing slightly like I had been doing all my life when I was nervous. Reaching for my phone, I closed my eyes, holding it face down in my palm as I chanted in my head. Please be good news. Please be good news. I flipped the phone and opened my eyes, spotting the one-word text I had been stressing over. My head lowered and I slumped backward into my seat.

Alec grabbed my hand to comfort me. "Shit, babe. Is it bad news?"

I looked up, unable to hide the smile that lit up my face. I turned the phone to show him Olivia's text that read: ROCKSTAR!!!!!!!!!

Alec was up and out of his seat, pulling me into his arms before I could catch my breath. "Holy shit, babe, you did it. New beginnings." His enthusiasm caught the attention of just about every table in the small restaurant. Any other time I would have been mortified over such a display, but at that moment I felt nothing but pure joy.

***

"I think I need a tub like this," I said, using my foot to turn off the water of the oversized tub Alec and I were sharing. A mix-up in reservations had resulted in us getting a deluxe top-floor corner room with a king-sized bed, a sixty-inch television and a tub that was easily three times the size of the one in my apartment. We spent our first night in Atlanta christening the bed with the blinds open, which provided a spectacular view of the city's lights.

I sat with my legs stretched out in front of me and my back tucked against Alec's chest. He plucked my bottle of bath gel off the side of the tub and poured a liberal amount onto his palm. Rubbing his hands together, he reached around my shoulders and began slowly soaping my breasts. "It definitely has its perks," he agreed, using his thumb to circle my nipples that were already hard.

I tilted my head to the side as he moved my hair to lick a droplet of water off my shoulder. "A regular bath alone will never measure up again," I purred.

"Is that a way of telling me taking baths together will be part of my regular duties?"