Page 26 of Miss Behaved
Carson lifts an eyebrow. “That’s not your thing.”
“How would you know?” I ask him. Carson Calloway isn’t exactly my target audience.
“Call it curiosity.”
I fight the heat rushing to my cheeks. “How much have you read?”
Carson tips his head back and looks up at the stars. “A good amount.” He looks back at me. “But if you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”
That makes me smile. “Fair enough.”
My feet still in the pool as it strikes me that he’s kept up on my career as much as I’ve kept up on his. I assumed that him walking away meant he couldn’t care less what came of my writing. Clearly, that’s not the case. With that realization, a wave of nausea hits me.
“Does that mean—” My fingers grip the concrete; my heart hammers in my chest. “You’ve read it, haven’t you?”
He stares at me blankly for a moment, and I know I don’t need to specify which book I’m talking about. If he has, he’ll know it.
Carson nods, and my stomach sinks.
Paper Hearts,my first novel. The one that put me on the map. When I wrote it, I wasn’t expecting it to explode like it did, especially since I was a first-time author. But, to my surprise, it ran its way up the best-seller list and is still my most highly regarded book.
Fans loved it, my publisher wanted sequels. Not that they’ll ever get them.
BecausePaper Heartsisn’t like any other romance story I’ve written over the years. It was meant to purge one specific man—Carson Calloway.
To anyone else, it probably wouldn’t have been obvious. Just another friends-to-lovers, small-town romance with a happily ever after. But one man would know the truth behind the words on the pages. And he’s sitting right beside me.
Carson is quiet, but I realize we’re staring at each other again. It’s a pattern we seem to be falling into. Our way of holding a conversation when there’s nothing left to be said. When you’ve already dug to the thick of a person, learned their truths and lies, and all that remains is silence.
“Mon—” Carson starts, but I hold up my hand to cut him off.
“It’s fine,” I lie. “I’m the one who published it.”
I stand up, and I can tell there’s more he wants to say, wants to do. But he doesn’t. He sits and watches me fidget with my dress.
“I don’t want to think anymore,” I say more to myself, even if I know he can hear me. “It’s like Tina said, right? Stop thinking and start doing. Take a risk, let it go. Cut loose.”
I’ve been living in the past more than I realized. Scared of truly opening up and leaving myself unguarded. Choosing boyfriends who are destined to be repeats of how things ended with Carson. Shutting myself off from love that has the potential to actually last.
Let go.
I’m not sure if it’s the words playing in my head or the heat of the Arizona night, but my hands seem to move on their own up to the straps of my floor-length summer dress. I tug the straps off my shoulders until the dress falls swiftly, like a curtain dropping, pooling at my feet.
I don’t look at Carson, even if I feel his eyes burning into me from where he hasn’t moved. Instead, I stand there in silence, wearing only my strapless black bra and panties. I take a breath and let it go.
Playing it safe, following the rules—it’s what I’ve always done. It’s what they expect from me. But that’s not why I came here, and Carson’s presence is a physical reminder. I’m here to take risks, rediscover my passion, stop thinking, and start feeling again. So, that’s what I’ll do.
In a single swoop, I dive into the pool, and the cold water replaces the warm night on my skin, washing over me and waking up my insides. But just like how, when you’re a kid, your excitement burns so hot you wouldn’t notice a blizzard, anticipation warms me.
11
Carson
Paperheartslighteasyand burn. Please don’t burn my paper heart.
I’ve worn out those pages over the years reading that line again and again. Maybe I was a masochist. But I had to dissect every word knowing that Monica’s character Jake had to be me. Some would probably say a better version of me. One who at least stuck around for the long haul. We shared an alcoholic father, an obsession with rock music. He even taught Bailey how to kiss because she had a crush on the quarterback. Jake was agood friend, after all.
I was Jake.
