The Write Stuff (Write Stuff 1)

I grabbed my phone and debated asking Siri for advice on where to stash a body before deciding I'd been mad at Olivia long enough. That was how our friendship worked. Neither of us had ever been able to stay mad at one another for longer than an hour or two. Right now I needed the sanity of my friend to show me how ridiculous I was being, so I tapped the screen to dial her number.

Olivia answered on the first ring, like she had been expecting me to call. "Took you long enough."

I rolled my eyes. Nothing like being predictable. "Psh, you're lucky you're not buried in some swamp. How could you do that to me?"

Her laugh fluttered through the phone. "How was I supposed to know you'd show up looking like one of those bad Wal-Mart customer pictures people post on Facebook? Believe me, if I would have known that was the look you were going for, I would have shielded the eyes of the kids on the beach. That was a train wreck."

"Screw you, whore. That's your last warning." I debated hanging up. Maybe I didn't need her after all.

"Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said swiftly. "I'm just teasing. Come on, don't be a sourpuss. I'll treat you to lunch," she cajoled. "I found a new Mexican restaurant I want us to try."

"Another one?" Olivia was on a perpetual quest to find a decent Mexican restaurant in central Florida. Every month or so, she'd stumble across a new one. Personally, I didn't think any of the previous restaurants had been that bad, but she deemed them all crap. Olivia had lived in California at one time and boasted that you didn't know good Mexican food until you'd tried some of the restaurants just north of the border.

"I'm bound and determined to find a place that makes authentic-tasting taquitos. Not something you pulled out of your freezer and nuked," she said, taking a dig at me. It was common knowledge between us that I would starve if not for my microwave and my obsession with cereal. If something couldn't be nuked or poured into a bowl with milk, it didn't belong in my kitchen. Olivia liked to tease that if I ever made it big with my writing, the first thing I should do is hire a cook. It was a nice pipe dream. I wasn't exactly killing it with my books, but the income had already far exceeded what I ever thought I would make. When I started college, I knew I wanted an English degree. I had harbored hopes that it would be a springboard to nurturing my love of writing, but realistically I had planned to use the degree to become a teacher. Now in my final year of school, I was beginning to think maybe this writing thing could become permanent. Maybe I would never make enough to hire my own cook, but I would like to travel the world someday. Truthfully, just the idea that I was doing what I loved and that I was able to do it full-time was all I could ever ask for. I was living my dream at twenty-two. No one needed to tell me how lucky I was.

Chapter Three

Olivia was already halfway into a margarita when I joined her for lunch an hour later.

"Thanks for waiting for me," I joked, pulling on my hoodie. It was a gazillion degrees outside, but the restaurant had the air inside blasting at an arctic level. Not that I would complain. I'd rather be cold than sweat my ass off, but living in Florida all my life had taught me to bring a jacket or sweater anytime I ate out.

Olivia slurped up the last of her strawberry-flavored drink. "Never fear. I plan on ordering another. After this morning, I think we could both use a few."

I rolled my eyes. Olivia loved to make everything a little more dramatic than it actually was. "Please, if anyone had it bad, it was me. I bet I came across like a complete moron."

"Yep," she agreed, signaling the waitress.

Unable to help myself, I kicked her under the table. "Isn't there a friend clause where you're supposed to lie and tell me it wasn't all that bad?"

"Lies won't get you laid, sweet cheeks," she answered, turning to the waitress. I blanched as the waitress grinned at me. Great, why not just announce to the world that I had no man warming my bed? "I'll take another, and bring one for Cheese Puffs here too," she added.

Olivia grinned as I flipped her off. The problem was she knew I was all talk and no bite.

"So, what was your deal this morning?" She scooped salsa onto a chip and popped it into her mouth. "I know I pulled you away from one of your writing marathons, which explains the grunge-rock look, but you seemed downright flustered."

I shrugged. "I don't know. How's Natasha, by the way?" I still felt terrible for taking her under the water.

"She's cool. You definitely shocked the shit out of her though when you tackled her."

I could feel my cheeks beginning to heat up. How could I explain Alec was the source of my unexpected behavior? That my body felt the need to respond just looking at him. I may be a virgin, but I wasn't naive. I recognized hard-core lust when I felt it.

Olivia's eyes narrowed shrewdly as she studied me. Shit. She knew. I could tell by the way her eyes widened and a gleeful smile lit up her face. I ducked my head, reaching for a chip, but I had the worst poker face in existence. "Ahhhhh, the plot thickens," she crowed. "You think he could be the one to unlock the chastity belt."

Despite myself, I couldn't help snorting. "Chastity belt? Maybe you need to lay off my historical romance books. Welcome to the twenty-first century."

The waitress had returned with our drinks and laughed at my comment. "Are you two ready to order?"

"I'll take your taquitos with a side of rice and beans, and my friend obviously wants something tall, dark and beefy," Olivia said, making the three of us laugh.

"You and me both," the waitress replied, looking at me.

"Okay, spill it," Olivia demanded once I had placed my order. "I've been waiting for this moment forever. I was beginning to think you swung from the other tree. I already had it worked out in my head how I'd let you down easy when you finally made your move on me."

"Ha, you wish. If I was going to swing from that tree, it'd be for someone sweet."

She tried to look hurt. "I'm sweet, bitch."

I raised my eyebrows. "Really?"