Page 68 of The Write Track
This was about to get messy. I could feel it. Unfortunately, I had no idea what to do about it.
17
SEVENTEEN
Iwas her literary crush? That was just… well, I had no idea how I was supposed to feel about it. I hadn’t considered it until Taffy Oakley—and there had to be a story behind that name, one I was determined to hear, eventually—had just blurted it out as if it weren’t a big deal. It somehow felt important, even though I couldn’t immediately ascertain why.
Bella had run into the bathroom as if her hair were on fire. I’d let her go, even though I had questions, to give myself some time to think it through.
Bella had read my books? Of course she had. In hindsight, it was ridiculous that I hadn’t realized that. She loved horror movies. That would naturally spread to horror fiction. Not always, but often. She was an author. Every author wanted to write what they loved.
So knowing that, why hadn’t it occurred to me that Bella would have actually read my stuff? Preston had tried to shame her with the movies and even suggested she was just with me because I could help her write what she really wanted to write. We weren’t really together, but he didn’t know that. Still, I was curious why Bella hadn’t brought it up.
I walked to the kitchen sink and splashed some water on my face. Then I combed some through my hair to cool down the sudden heat coursing through me. I’d been impressed by how honest Bella had been with her mother. I had never considered being that truthful with my father. Heck, when she’d still been alive, I hadn’t been that honest with my mother either. Now, so far removed from her death and what could have been, I was angry at myself. But nothing could be done about it. Still, Taffy Oakley had to be the most honest parent I’d ever interacted with. The condoms thing was hilarious.
I was still leaning against the sink, considering how I could use that in a book, when Bella exited the bathroom. She regarded me leerily.
“Ready for dinner?” she asked in a worried voice.
“Yes.” I could have let her off the hook, but I decided to take a page out of Taffy’s book instead. “Do you want me to sign something for you since you’re such a fan?”
That was the exact right way to phrase it because she gave me a dour look. “Do you think you’re funny?”
“Yup.” I grinned. “It’s okay that you’ve read my stuff. I’m not going to make a big deal out of it, even if I am your literary hero.”
“Geez.” She folded her arms across her chest and jutted out her chin. “That is ridiculous.”
“Just admit you love the way my mind works.”
For a moment, just a split-second really, an emotion I didn’t recognize sparked in her eyes. If I wasn’t very much mistaken, it was heat. But it was gone, walled away behind annoyance, before I could think too hard on it.
“Just because I introduced you to my mother and she spouted off a bunch of nonsense, that doesn’t mean you’re special.”
There was no stopping my smirk. “I happen to think your mother is pretty great.”
Her expression softened. “Yeah. I got lucky there. She hung around even though I mistreated her.”
“Something tells me she knew it would be worth it. You’re a good person, Bella.”
“Not always. I was a bad person for a long time. I allowed Preston to turn me into a bad person.”
“Stop that.” I vehemently shook my head. “You cannot take the blame for what Preston did. Yes, you made mistakes. There was no malice involved, though. With you at least. As for him…”
She nodded. “I understand what you’re saying. Also, I’m sorry I didn’t warn you that I was going to tell my mother the truth. I can’t lie to her. Not again.”
“You don’t have to lie to her.” I meant it. “I’m fine with whatever you want here.”
“I know. That’s why you’re so great.”
“I believe your mother said I was your literary crush.” I delighted in the way her eyes narrowed. “It’s okay,” I added hastily. “You can crush on me all you want.”
“Keep it up,” she warned, sweeping toward the door.
I fell into step behind her. “I’ve always wanted to be somebody’s literary crush. There’s a group of women on Facebook who call themselves Nathan’s Nymphos. You should join that group. You probably have a lot in common.”
She scalded me with a look over her shoulder. “Why do you always do this?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just find it funny.” I pressed my hand to the door before she could open it. “If you want to write horror, you can always bounce your ideas off of me.”
