The Write Stuff (Write Stuff 1)

True to his word, Alec followed me around the entire time. Where originally I thought his presence would be oppressing and uncomfortable, I found myself engaging in conversation with him anytime we weren't in a panel or surrounded by a group. He was charismatic, funny and easy to talk to. The secret voice in my head called him perfect. I tried to ignore that voice and instead, dredge up the hurt he had caused me, but my heart refused to go there anymore. Alec had won it over. The barrier of insecurity that his rejection had caused that night still remained, but I wanted to tear it down. I couldn't do it alone. Alec would have to give me a vivid sign that he was interested.

That didn't mean I couldn't throw a little bait on the hook to test the water, as my dad would say—just small things to gauge his reaction, if he gave any at all. Knowing I was stepping outside my comfort zone, I attempted to channel one of the strong female characters I was used to writing—characters that were the opposite of me and were not afraid to seduce a man. Someone who knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to show it.

It felt understandably awkward, especially after my first attempt that nearly shook my confidence. The idea was to lean in and whisper something in Alec's ear during the panel we were sitting in. At which point my lips would "accidentally" graze his ear. The problem with my plan was that I was still me, not one of the characters from my books. In my typical fashion, I forgot about my cell phone on my lap, which of course fell to the floor. In my haste to try and catch it, my face nearly ended up in his crotch, which would have been interesting, but was not my intention. For once my awkwardness actually paid off, since I caught myself by placing a hand on his leg. His glorious, hard thigh, to be exact. It could have—and should have—been a disaster that turned my face several shades of red, but somehow I maintained my composure. Alec reached down and picked up my phone and handed it back to me. His eyes stopped on my hand that still sat on his thigh before he looked up and smiled. A warm giddy feeling filled my belly. A hand on the leg was definitely bigger bait than a lip grazing his ear, and I would take it as a subtle victory.

My next attempt went more according to plan. As the crowd filed out of the small convention room after the panel discussion, Alec stood behind me when I dropped my purse. I abruptly put on the brakes, and as planned, Alec bumped into my backside. Trying to keep from bowling me over, his hands circled my waist, anchoring me snugly against his hips. "Oops, sorry," I murmured. Feeling him pressed against me felt so obnoxiously good I had to fight off the urge to snuggle closer.

"Butterfingers today, huh?" He laughed, kneeling down to pick up my purse for me. I looked down to catch him, taking notice of where his head was in respect to certain areas of my body. Needless to say, it made that particular area take notice also. "Here you go," he said, standing.

High with power, I filed from the room with a new bounce in my step. The signals were subtle, but it seemed he was still interested. Some stupid code of ethics was just holding him back.

It was time to put Operation Seduction into play.

Chapter Eleven

Deciding to try and seduce Alec was easy. Figuring out how was the hard part. It would be different if I was as beautiful and confident as Olivia, but this was me. I could write a steamy seduction scene, but the thought of actually orchestrating one practically broke me out in hives.

That evening as I dressed for the Hunky Ball, I mentally sifted through a list of ways I could possibly get Alec into bed. The obvious methods, like simply asking, were not an option, and everything else that came to mind sounded either ridiculous or just plain desperate. He'd already seen my breasts, so that would be nothing new. Besides, he'd gotten more than his share of cleavage in his face during the trip. Liquor could be an option, but considering he was a bartender, and I was the lightweight drinker, I would likely get nothing out of that scenario but a hangover.

Finally, as I applied a light layer of makeup, it occurred to me that I could do what I had been doing all day. Be myself. Anything else would seem forced and transparent. I had already thrown out some bait today and it went a long way toward snagging his attention. All I had to do now was reel it in. It may not have been the most creative plan, but it was me. If I couldn't get Alec that way, it wasn't going to ever happen.

My thoughts were interrupted by a light rap on my door. Giving myself a quick once-over, I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear that had escaped the knot I had gathered on my head. I was shooting for something elegant, but I wasn't the best at fixing my own hair. My messy buns usually ended up looking more like birds' nests. Attracting pigeons would probably be a little over-the-top dorky. With my luck, I had just jinxed myself.

Sighing, I gave my bird's nest one last pat before pulling my door open with gusto. I was unprepared for the sight of Alec dressed to the nines. Everything I had been thinking flew from my head, along with my ability to breathe.

I sucked in a mouthful of air at the time I should have been exhaling. My confused lungs expressed their displeasure by taking it out on my throat, which closed.

Choking on thin air is embarrassing enough, but doing it in front of the man I'd like to see in my bed while he pounded me on the back wasn't exactly the essence of sexiness I was hoping to start the evening with.

"Jesus, are you okay?" Alec sounded concerned. He should be. My life felt like it was coming to an end. How ironic that this would be my final moment. Dying as a virgin in the arms of the man I wanted to take my virginity. Hopefully Olivia would learn to love or at least coexist with Severus.

Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I hacked my lungs out, I could see my mascara mixed with tears running down my cheeks. My face was red and blotchy and my hair had fallen down. This would be the last image Alec would have of me.

My description was a tad melodramatic. I might not have been dying, but the raccoon eyes, clown face and scarecrow-like hair were true enough.

I turned away from my reflection, focusing on dragging air into my asshole lungs that wouldn't be happy until I had barfed all over Alec.

Thankfully, that didn't happen. After several more pounds on my back, I began to breathe again—barely. I felt like I'd just run a marathon.

As my heaving breaths returned to normal, Alec began rubbing his hand in wide circles along my back. It felt so good I almost forgot I looked like something from a Stephen King novel. "You gonna make it?" He smiled, trying to make me feel better.

I stepped away from him reluctantly, even though I couldn't help returning his smile. "I'm fine," I croaked. "Tell me you would have at least known what to do if I had passed out."

"Most definitely. I was tops in my class in mouth to mouth," he said, winking. "Whoops. It slipped. I'm still working on that."

"Funny. I'll let it slide since you practically saved my life. Give me a sec to fix—well, this," I said, waving my hands up and down my body and face.

It only took five minutes to scrub my face clean and reapply my mascara. I decided to throw my hair up into a high ponytail this time that would be easier to manage. At least my throat was already beginning to feel better. I smoothed on some lip gloss as a finishing touch. No one would mistake me for a model, but it was a vast improvement over what I looked like before.

Alec was sitting on the edge of my bed when I left the bathroom. This time I was able to better appreciate his appearance. To say he was devastatingly handsome in a tuxedo would be cliché, but it was true. In my opinion, a tux automatically knocked every guy up two notches in the looks department. Considering Alec's looks were already a ten, shoving him in a tux knocked him off the freaking charts.

"You look lovely," he said, standing up.

I didn't snort. It would have ruined the ladylike image the dress I was wearing was supposed to project. Next to him, I was the ugly stepsister.

"You doubt me?" My look of reservation had not escaped his notice. He stepped closer, offering me his arm.

"No, I just disagree. Olivia is lovely. I'm average. You know, the girl next door. The one guys eventually settle down with after they're tired of doinking anything that moves." Chicken-eggs-in-a-crap-basket. As usual, the words left my mouth before I could retract them. Highlighting the fact that I wasn't beautiful wasn't the best way to seduce a guy.