Liam Davis & The Raven (Love Inscribed 1)

“Thank you for the offer.” I buttoned my pants. “Will it be awkward now?”

He gripped his shirt. “No. We won’t let it be.”

“Good. I like you as my friend.”

Quinn’s mouth opened, as if he wanted to say something more, and then he shut it again. “Sure. Me too.”

I turned and left. “Good night, then,” I said, and made a path to the bathroom. I looked just the same as I always did when I looked in the mirror. To myself, I said, “You learn something new every day.”

Then, teeth brushed and ready for bed, I went to my room and drafted an outline of Letting Loose after Lectures on my laptop before falling into a heady sleep.

I clicked my pen, narrowing my gaze on the notes scribbled before me. My office-friend stapler kept staring at me and I slid him out of view. Though it was late in the evening, Scribe was still thrumming with life. From the chief’s open office door, I heard murmuring as he conversed with Jack. Something about one of his projects needing more expansion.

Words swam in my open notebook. A vortex of doubt regarding my final feature article swirled in my mind. It had to be pitched just perfectly to get the chief’s approval. I knew the chief was fascinated by modern technology, and the way he divided his trash into garbage, compost, and recycling suggested he might be swayed to accept an environmental angle.

I dropped my pen and sank my tired body into the chair.

Across my desk, Hannah twirled a thick strand of hair around her finger. Giant Guy—who turned out to be called Roger Delaware—stood chatting with her. His dimpled smile and soft gaze as he looked at Hannah had my approval.

Hannah yanked on her hair and hurriedly let go, as if she’d just realized what she’d been doing. She straightened and cleared her throat. “I just don’t know,” she said, a quirk in her lips betraying her attempt at a tease. “Going out for a fancy dinner with a handsome hulk or curling up on my worn couch with my history assignment? Tough call.”

Roger grinned. “If you put it like that, what was I thinking? Dinner with a beautiful smartass over doing my math assignments?”

A sweet, nervous laugh floated around them and Hannah lightly got to her feet, fisted Roger’s shirt, and pulled him down. She kissed him quickly on the mouth and nodded toward the exit. “Let’s get out of here.”

Roger nodded mutely, but when Hannah twisted to leave, he snatched her hand and hauled her back. Cupping his hands on her face, he kissed her again, this time longer. When he pulled back, he was smiling and she looked like her bones had melted.

I lightly tossed my pen toward them, breaking their long, searching gaze. “While you may be tempted, there are still far too many people in here for you to attempt ravishing each other on the desk.”

With a bright blush, Hannah laughed and—tugging Roger with her—left the building.

I stared from my notebook to my pen on the floor. I spun my chair slowly and peeled myself up to retrieve it. An article on the invasion of internet mass media? A look into student involvement in environmental protection?

Or—yes! What if it was something combined? How the internet and mass media support student involvement in environmental protection?

With a whoop! I swept up my pen. It almost felt hot in my hand with all the thoughts streaming toward it, begging to be written.

A step before my desk, the chief caught my eye, beckoning me over.

“Yes, chief?” I asked, stopping in front of him. He stood solidly in the doorway, arms folded.

“You were in here until late last night, are you planning to be again?”

I nodded my head. “I also have the feature article you requested me to write.”

“Ah, that.” His frown lightly dented his brow. “Let me stress again, writing it is not assurance you will get the features editor position.”

I clicked my pen. “But if I wow you, I have a chance, right?”

“Right.”

I stopped clicking. “Then my article will be in your email by no later than midnight, Friday, the fifth of December.” I turned to leave, but a hand clamped down on my shoulder. I glanced back at the chief, his lips in a firm line.

“The office will be closed over Thanksgiving weekend.”

“Oh.” A shame, but as long as I organized myself, I could work from home, so it wasn’t the end of the world. I slipped from his gentle grip. “Okay.”

I worked another hour until it was only me, Jack, and the chief. At nine, Hunter texted. He’d just finished basketball practice and wanted to know if I was up for a drink. I texted back that I was still working, and fifteen minutes later, Hunter rolled through the doors.