Writing A Wrong (Write Stuff 2)

Chapter 1

"Sophie, please, why are you doing this? You know I love you."

"Love?" I shrilled, willing my voice not to shake. "You dare call this love?" After everything we had been through together, I could hardly believe he would choose to treat my heart with such ill regard that he would shred it to insignificant pieces.

He sighed heavily, raking a hand through the long coal-black locks that always fell across his forehead. I loved running my fingers through that hair—the silky curls that captured my attention when I first laid eyes on him at Jeanette's debutant ball. His rugged good looks had every girl in a tizzy that night when he showed up alone and yet, he had set his sights on me. With eyes as intoxicating as fine wine, I became drunk and enchanted by his charm. Now I would no longer succumb to the allure of Clinton St. Claire. "My darling, this is most definitely love," he murmured, taking a brash step toward me.

I backed away, raising my hands to maintain distance between us. If his eyes were intoxicating, then his touch was like a magician's hypnotic spell. "Don't touch me!" My betraying voice trembled, making my demand much less resolute.

He continued forward, stalking me like I was his prey."My love, it's not what you think."

Glaring at him, I straightened my spine and raised my hand, striking him soundly across the face. How dare he defend his cheating actions to me. Did he think I was ignorant; too naïve to see what was going on right in front of my eyes?

"Are you kidding me? Clinton cheated on Sophie?" Alec's strident voice broke the silence in the room, making me practically leap from my chair.

My laptop would have launched into the air if not for my quick reflexes. "Holy shit, don't sneak up on me like that! I didn't even hear you come in. You scared the bejesus out of me." Clutching my heart that was threatening to beat out of my chest, I twisted around in my chair, glaring up at Alec, who looked truly pissed.

"Why would Clinton cheat on her?" Alec reached over my shoulder, snaking his hand between my arms in an attempt to scroll through my Word document.

I swatted him away, covering my laptop like a turtle hiding inside its shell. "Hey, just because you live here doesn't give you special privileges. You know I don't like anyone to read my work in progress until I'm completely done. Not even Olivia," I said, hitting the save button and closing the file before he could get any more of a sneak peek.

I placed the computer on the nearby table and stood up, stretching. The effects of several hours of being slumped over my laptop in a recliner were evident in every screaming joint of my body. "I thought you had lab all day today?" I asked, stifling a yawn, which only further aggravated the crick in my neck.

"I did. It ended over an hour ago," he said, placing his hands on the back of my neck. His kneading fingers felt heavenly on my unforgiving shoulders.

"Oh-h-h that feels good," I moaned, letting my head fall forward to give him better access to my sore muscles. "I can't believe I wrote for thirteen straight hours."

"I still don't know how you do it. I can't sit in a chair for more than a half hour, maybe, before I need to get up and move around. Your neck is stiff as a board."

"Hmm," I moaned again. "Small price to pay for doing what you love. Besides, the reward is worth it." He continued rubbing in slow smooth circles across my shoulders. The warmth of his hands felt like instant medicine against my skin. "Am I right in assuming you neglected to feed yourself today?" We both already knew the answer to his question. He obviously didn't understand the power of being in a writing groove. You don't just stop for something as trivial as food when the words are flowing so well. "I nibbled here and there," I said, knowing my little white lie would never pass his bullshit detector, but I enjoyed teasing him.

"Uh-huh. Lucky for you, I brought home dinner. Although, I'm not sure you deserve any after maliciously ruining a perfectly good relationship," he grumbled, dropping his hands from my neck.

It was cute that he got so wrapped up in my stories. I smiled, trailing behind him toward the decadent smells wafting from the takeout bags he'd placed on the counter. I inhaled deeply with appreciation—Chinese food. My favorite. I reached for the bag to extract an eggroll, but Alec snatched it away before I could grab the deep-fried delicacy.

"Hey, not cool," I complained, reaching again for the bag that he now held above his head.

"I can't believe you let Clinton cheat on Sophie. How could you do that?" He kept the bag out of reach, waiting for an explanation, but I remained tight-lipped, crossing my arms over my chest. He should have known by now that I could be stubborn too. I was world-class at playing chicken. One time when I was a child on vacation with my family, my brothers and I were in a swimming pool having a contest to see who could hold their breath the longest underwater. I was so intent on winning that I had to be rescued by the lifeguard. The best part was that not only did I win, but my parents blamed the entire incident on my brothers and I got to eat dessert for dinner that night while they watched. It was one of my finest moments and only proved that Alec was way out of his league if he thought I'd give in first.

"Fine." He placed the bag of food on the counter before turning around to grab a couple of plates.

"And still undefeated," I whispered, smiling.

"What?"

"Nothing. It smells wonderful. Thanks, sweetie."

"Right." He smirked skeptically before pulling two plates from the cabinet and slamming the door.

I turned to hide my grin as I grabbed spoons and forks from

the cutlery drawer. "Poor baby. You know they're not real, right?" I teased, spooning fried rice onto my plate.

He gasped, clutching his chest. "How dare you say that to a reader. They're real to me and everyone else. And I know for a fact that Clinton would never cheat on Sophie."

"Are you sure about that?" I shot him a look over my shoulder as I carried my plate to the living room. "Guys cheat all the time."

"Only dickheads cheat on someone they love," he replied.

I let out a breath I wasn't even aware I was holding.

Alec walked from the kitchen with his drink and plate in hand, placing them on the coffee table before sitting on the couch to face me. "I'm not a cheater," he said simply.

I shrugged like it was no big deal, but my heart swooned happily like I'd experienced a slight rush of adrenaline. Maybe I was naïve, but I wanted to believe in love and romance and happily ever after.

Picking up my plate, I crossed my legs and sat back against the plush couch cushions. "Neither is Clinton," I said, taking a big bite of my egg roll. Alec sputtered, causing me to nearly spit out my bite of food as my mouth spread into a smile.

"That's it? Oh no. There has to be more." He reached a hand toward me with his eyes twinkling in anticipation. I scooted farther back into the cushions, knowing he was aiming for the ticklish spot on my side. My plate teetered precariously on my lap. I debated using it as a shield, but my stomach would prefer to eat my food rather than wear it. Alec snatched the plate from my hand before I could react, setting it on the table. I tried squirming away, but he had me caged in. "Why does Sophie think he cheated? They're not going to break up are they?" His fingers wagged deviously toward my side, knowing my weakness.

"Do you really think I'm going to leak any spoilers? I'm like a vault." I giggled as he moved closer. "You'll have to wait like everyone else," I added between bubbles of laughter.

The glint in his eye sharpened as he leaned over me."Hey, it's one of the perks of dating a New York Times bestseller. I get all the secrets first." His hands reached my side, pulling my shirt up to reveal my sensitive ticklish spot.

"Really, is that so? I must have missed that in the handbook."

"Did you miss this too?" He fingers danced subtly up my side until they grazed the sensitive skin on the bottom of my breasts.

I gasped as my body reacted immediately to his touch. "You're still not getting my secrets."

"Are you sure? Even if I do this?" He lowered his head, grazing his tongue along my ribcage until my body quivered.

I closed my eyes and bit my lip, nodding more in approval of what he was doing than answering his question.

He pulled back abruptly. "Fine. See if you get any more attention from these hands." He picked up his plate and started eating.

"Oh, big talk. You know I'm only keeping you around for your skills."

"Too bad, so sad. No spoilers, no magic fingers." He dipped a fried wanton into a small container of sauce that was so good it should have been outlawed.