The Write Stuff (Write Stuff 1) - Page 89

"Damn, Nicole, you sound awful. You need to go see a doctor."

"I'm fine. It's just a summer cold. I'm sure I got it from one of the germ incubators I flew in during the last three weeks. I'll be better in a couple days and we can celebrate then. My parents want to do something too." I rested my head against the arm of my couch. I didn't confess that several sleepless nights in a row had probably done little to help my health and well-being.

"Fine, sicky. Speaking of your family, your mom called me yesterday. She wanted a list of your friends. I think she's planning a party."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh lord. That seems a little pretentious, don't you think?"

"You, pretentious? Is that even possible? You're the most humble person I know. I think a celebration is a great idea. You've worked hard, and I think you deserve it."

I opened my mouth, but held off as a series of sneezes ripped through me. "Seriously, this cold is the asshole of all colds," I muttered when I finally stopped and had blown my nose loudly again.

Olivia stood up, trying not to look too disgusted. "On that note, I think I'm going to bolt."

I glared at her cold skittishness. What a baby. I really should have licked her.

"I'm going to run to Publix. What do you need?"

I forgave her abandonment and no longer felt I needed to pass my germs on to her with my tongue. "I want to marry you," I declared, blowing my nose again.

"I'm flattered. What do you need, sicky?"

"More tissues," I said, holding up the nearly empty box. "And OJ would be amazing." I hacked again.

"Okie-dokie. I'll get chicken soup too. When I get back, I may do the ol' ring-the-bell-and-run trick."

"Will you get me some 7UP too?" I added before she could close the front door.

"Yeah, yeah," she said, waving as she left.

Once she was gone, I slumped back against my sofa. My smile faded. I really did feel like crap, but beneath the cold was a deep-rooted sadness that I couldn't seem to shake. It had been four nights since Alec had walked out on me. Despite my own personal pep talks that there were other fish in the sea, I couldn't shake the feeling of loss. So, I tried to bury it. Maybe that was how I got sick. The cold made it easy for me to dwell in self-pity. Either way, they were both kicking my ass, and I needed to shake them.

Severus jumped up on the couch, seeking some attention. At least he hadn't cared that I was sick. It took him a while to forgive me for leaving him alone for three weeks, but once he got over it, he didn't leave my side. I turned up the volume on the television while Severus made bread dough on my lap. After a few minutes he had kneaded the blanket to his liking and settled in. I stroked a hand over the back of his head and he purred with approval.

"I missed you, sweet boy," I crooned, scratching under his chin where he liked it the most. "Who needs guys when I have you?" He purred louder, obviously agreeing with me.

I snuggled deeper into the cushions, trying to adjust to the way my body had ached all day. I hadn't planned on falling asleep when I closed my eyes, but that's exactly what happened. I welcomed the darkness. At least I would be free from the thoughts that bogged me down.

Chapter Nineteen

It took me almost a week to shake the cold, but by the time I was finally healthy, I was able to function without thinking about Alec every minute.

During my recovery, I caught up everything I'd fallen behind on during my trip and even outlined a rough draft of my next book. For the most part, I did a lot of sleeping. Olivia and Mom took turns checking on me and keeping me company. I did end up going to the doctor when my fever spiked, and it turned out I had a case of strep throat.

Despite being sick the entire week, there were some positives that happened. Wicked Lovely had made the major bestsellers lists and was still going strong. I'd been passed out in a medicated slumber when Olivia charged into my apartment with one of those horns you blow during New Year's Eve. It took me several minutes to process what she was so excited about, but once I did, I could hardly believe it. I could now call myself a New York Times Bestseller. My entire family had shown up to congratulate me as well, and we celebrated by eating pizza in my living room since I wasn't fit to leave my apartment.

Mom threw herself into planning my party with the help of Olivia. Neither asked for my input, which made me happy. I still wasn't thrilled with the idea of holding a party to celebrate me. My objections fell on deaf ears, so I ignored their efforts for as long as possible until Olivia showed up on the day of the big celebration.

In my typical fashion, it had been weeks since I had left my apartment. I was neck deep in book two of the Wicked Lovely series. The story was darker than my normal fare and I didn't need a psychiatrist to know why. All the emotions I had bottled up over my affair with Alec poured out in my writing. The story unfolded before my eyes. It wasn't exactly our story, but the passion and angst came directly from my soul. Never had a story flowed so effortlessly for me. It was like melted butter poured over popcorn.

When Olivia showed up at my apartment to "style me up," I used the new book as an excuse to try to get out of the afternoon torture session she had arranged.

"Absolutely not. You've been holed up in this apartment for almost a month, you hermit. Do you even know what the sun looks like anymore?"

I shrugged my shoulders, glancing in my hallway mirror. So my skin was a bit pasty, but it was all in the name of sacrifice. With Wicked Lovely still holding on strong on the charts, I wanted to make sure I was able to release book two sometime in the fall. "I've peeked out the window. The sun is that big bright thing that makes it so hot outside."

Olivia shook her head. "Good guess," she muttered. "Now learn to use a washing machine." I almost took offense to her comment until I looked at my yoga pants that were showing the signs of wear and tear. My tee shirt wasn't much better.

"Fine, skank. You can fix me up for the party," I finally conceded.

Tags: Tiffany King Write Stuff Romance
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