The Write Stuff (Write Stuff 1)

He tightened his arms around me. "Sweetheart, that's what I'm trying to tell you. Somewhere along the way, maybe it was in New Orleans or hell, it could have been the first time I saw you and you were soaking wet. At some point, I fell for you. I was just too stupid to listen to my feelings. When that asshole put his hands on you, I wanted to kill him. I can't tell you how hard it was for me to let the police handle it. I wanted to break every single finger on his hands." His voice was ragged and thick with emotion. "Then selfishly, I was the one who turned out to be the asshole who hurt you. It took me going home without you to make me realize what you had come to mean to me."

I shook my head in confusion. "You expect me to believe that? If all that's true, you could have come see me as soon as I returned home."

"I wanted to. I swear, but I convinced myself I didn't deserve you, that you would be better off without me. I come with a whole lot of baggage, and I tend to make poor decisions constantly." >"I do want my degree, and eventually I'll get there. I've just decided it doesn't need to be a race. Someday I'll have the diploma, and it'll look good framed on the wall, but beyond that, what will I do with it. I guess I'll have something to fall back on if this writing thing goes in the toilet."

"I don't see that happening anytime soon," she said, grinning wickedly like she knew something I didn't.

"Spill it," I demanded.

She laughed with delight before answering. "Obviously, you haven't checked your emails today."

"You know how I get when I'm writing. I haven't checked them in days."

"Well, I'm not sure what it means exactly, but a literary agent emailed expressing her interest in Wicked Lovely. She asked if she could set up a phone conference with you."

My heart kicked into overdrive. Other author friends of mine had signed with agents, and I had wondered if it was in the cards for me. "Are you kidding me?"

She grinned broadly. "I would never joke about this, slutbag. I emailed her back and set up a time for tomorrow afternoon."

"Holy shit. That's insanity. Do you know what this could mean?" I bounced in my seat with excitement.

"This means we're one step closer to seeing you in bookstores, baby."

"I think I'd pass out if that ever happened."

"Better get ready, then. Mark my words: One day soon you'll need smelling salts."

I laughed with glee. We had talked about this. What I would do if the opportunity arose, but I never put much stock into the conversations. Now that it was actually a possibility, I felt like a whole new door had been opened. I opened the email on my phone and for the rest of the drive, we analyzed every word, and what questions I should ask the following day.

The party was already in full swing by the time we arrived. I wasn't surprised in the slightest. Olivia had this thing about never being the first person to show up anywhere. She never let it happen, claiming it made people look needy. I argued that at least showing up early meant everyone wouldn't be looking at you when you arrived late. Since she was orchestrating this night, I went with the flow.

"Gah, how many people did you guys invite?" There had to be at least a dozen vehicles parked in the driveway and down the street of my childhood home.

She shrugged, climbing from the car and lighting a cigarette. If I would have been more observant earlier, I would have picked up on the fact she was smoking again, thus ensuring Taylor was history. Olivia only smoked between dating guys. It was her coping mechanism. I'd tried to Dr. Phil her on more than one occasion, but eventually I let her have her vice. If it gave her the comfort she sought, then so be it.

She put the cigarette out after only a few puffs and deposited it in Dad's trash bins on our way past the garage to the front door. Linking her arm through mine, we entered the crowded house together.

"Sweetheart, you look lovely," Dad greeted me, sweeping me up in a bear hug.

"Thanks, Daddy. Olivia waved her magic wand and this is what we got. The spell will be lifted by midnight and I'll return to my normal reclusive self."

He laughed, ruffling my hair. Olivia glared at him playfully before smoothing it back in place. "Careful. My magic only stretches so far."

"Holy cannoli. Is that Nicole?"

"Can't be. That girl actually looks like a girl." If Zach and Tony weren't my brothers, their smart-ass remarks would get them a kick in the ass. I would let Olivia do it though. I wouldn't want to ruin my cute shoes.

"Har - har. You two are so funny."

Tony whistled as he stepped closer, looking me over like a new car. "Hear that? She sounds like our sister. I guess she kinda looks like her too. I think we need to mess her up a little to make sure."

Olivia stepped between us, not willing to let sibling shenanigans ruin her work. "Touch her hair and you'll be singing soprano for a week. Got me?"

Tony's eyes sparkled like they always had when Olivia spoke to him. He stepped closer, invading her personal space. "The pain might just be worth it, coming from you," he murmured.

They stood chest to chest. "You would like that, wouldn't you?" Olivia's hand slid provocatively across Tony's shoulder. "Maybe we can try it out sometime," she whispered into his ear. She turned her head, practically offering Tony her lips. He looked hypnotized and leaned in to take what he had always wanted. "Or not," she added, stepping away from him. "I need a drink. How about you, Nic?"

Zachary roared with laughter as Olivia and I walked away. "You dumb bastard. How many times are you gonna fall for that?" He licked his finger and shoved it in Tony's ear, causing Tony to attempt to put him in a headlock. Before I knew it, my dad walked over quickly and separated them, slapping each one on the head. My brothers would never grow up. They were both older than me and still had to be treated like a couple of teenagers.