Page 54 of The Write Place

I ponder this. “Well, yes. It was a demand. A perfectly reasonable demand for food.” He smirks, and my voice becomes quieter, still unsure. “The request was to share the food with you.”

He glances at me, then back to his laptop, though his fingers have now fully halted. “If I let myself stay for dinner, it’s going to be difficult for me to leave.”

“So?”

“You’re not sick of me yet?”

“Nope.” I exaggerate the ‘P’ and he chuckles.

“Okay, then,” he winks. “Food first.”

Chapter 23

Daniel spends the night, but on Sunday he has to leave because he’s been wearing the same clothes all weekend. He’d probably come back if I asked him to, but I tell him I’ll see him tomorrow and promise him that we can have dinner together a few nights this week before he has to go back to New York for a little while.

The second his car pulls out of my driveway, I text Jenny and ask if she wants to go for a run.

I meet her at the bottom of the driveway about ten minutes later. “Well, well, well. I’m pretty sure you’ve never spent two nights in a row with a guy,” she says by way of greeting. I look at her sidelong as we start running, but there’s nothing I can say. She’s right.

By the time we’ve made a three-mile loop and are back at my place, I’ve filled her in and she is practically swooning over every detail. She follows me inside, grabs an apple off my counter, and sits down on the floor to stretch while she eats it.

“You should just tell him to skip the real estate hunt and move in here,” she says around a mouthful of apple.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve known the man for five weeks, not seven years.” It’s a habit to tease her about Ben, and I wince as soon as I’ve said it. The weekend had made me so happy, I had almost forgotten about overhearing him and the other teachers talking about me.

She raises an eyebrow, leaning over to stretch her other side. “I know you’re referencing Ben, and I also know you know nothing is happening after his display of toxic masculinity the other night. I chewed him out so thoroughly, I doubt he’ll ever talk to me again.”

“You did?” I grab my right foot behind me and pull it in, stretching my quad.

“Yeah.” She almost looks guilty. “He apologized profusely, but I still let him have it.”

“I’m sorry, Jenny.”

She shrugs as if it doesn’t matter. She stares at the carpet for a second, then shakes her head quickly to clear it. “Anyway, back to you and Writer Boy. Neither of you are dumb kids anymore. You’re both old enough to know when something is right and you’re responsible enough to make a clear-headed decision.” She really thinks she’s being reasonable here, but I frown deeply.

“Listen, I’m ecstatic he’s coming back here when he’s done in New York. Let’s start there, okay? There’s a lot I don’t know about him, and this is all still very new.”

Jenny shrugs in an “it’s your life” kind of way, and I shake my head incredulously.

“You’re gonna miss the hell out of him while he’s gone. How long does he have to stay in New York?” She takes another bite of her stolen apple.

“I don’t know, actually. He said he had to tie up some loose ends, but he didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t ask. I assumed he needed to meet with his publisher and sell his place? I don’t know.” I suddenly feel like I should have gotten more information.

Jenny can tell I’m starting to worry. “Hey, Mac. It’s okay. You two weren’t going to plan for the next year in the last two days. Ask him later. It’s no big deal. What matters is he’s here now, and he’s literally going to move here for you, which is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It still feels too good to be true,” I concede. “This man, whose books I fell in love with in college and whose career I’ve followed, off and on, for years, suddenly shows up and falls for me.”

Jenny’s expression softens. She pops to her feet and tosses her apple core in the garbage before pulling me into a tight hug. “It’s real, Mac, and you deserve this. You’ve had enough heartache for a while. It’s your turn to be happy.”

I hug her back, hoping that maybe she’s right.

Chapter 24

At school on Monday morning, Daniel has already placed a cup of coffee on my desk by the time I’ve arrived.

“I’m going to miss the coffee delivery most of all.” I plop into my desk chair and turn my computer on.

“I’m sad to think that’s all I’m good for,” Daniel quips.