Page 21 of Long Story Short

We hold each other’s gazes for a few beats before I’m the first one to break eye contact. I rub my palm over my mouth before I stand up and hold out a hand to help her from her seat. “Let me walk you home.”

THIRTEEN

JOSIE

I stare at Tyson’s outstretched hand for a few moments. “You don’t have to walk me home. I think I’ll make it just fine.”

He beckons with his fingers, a silent demand for me to take his hand. “Just because I don’t have to doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

I rub my lips together in an attempt not to smile. Who is this guy? He seems to be pulled straight from a romance novel. Handsome. A little mysterious. Incredibly charming without trying too hard. He’s exactly like the men I write that I thought only existed in fiction.

I stare at his offered hand for a few more seconds before I finally give in and take it.

He’s gentle as he helps me to my feet. His fingers only stay wrapped around mine just long enough to help me up. After that, he lets go, his arms dropping to his sides. I don’t know why, but I miss the feeling of his skin against mine.

“How are you feeling about the book so far?” Tyson asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

I turn my gaze to him as my head cocks to the side. “Um…” My brain blanks because his question takes me by surprise. I figured after I turned down his offer to spend more time together, he’d stop being interested in me altogether. Instead, he watches me expectantly, his gaze solely on me.

“It’s okay,” I finally manage to get out, my words coming out a little breathless from the surprise of the question to begin with.

“Just okay?”

I nod as he holds the back door to his house open. “I’m still frustrated I’m having to rework it to begin with, but I’m also starting to realize why it needed the fixes in the first place.” While I’ve made some progress on identifying the weaknesses of the book, I’m still overwhelmed by how I’m going to fix it. There’s a huge amount of work that needs to be done in a short amount of time and it’s daunting to think about how I’m going to make it happen.

“That’s good, then, right?” He leads me to the front of his house, his hands still at his sides.

“I think so. They want me to turn in the completed manuscript in six weeks, so I’m still a little nervous about how I’m going to pull that off, but I’m not feeling as hopeless as I was before I got here. So yeah…I guess it’s good.”

He pulls open his front door and holds it for me. Even as I step through the door and walk ahead of him, I can still feel his gaze pinned on me. “I can’t even imagine having to write a book in six weeks.” He laughs. It’s a deep, throaty sound that I feel through my entire body. “But then again, I don’t have the talent to write a book at all.”

My cheeks heat as I look down at my feet. “I’m not sure it’s a talent. Plus, it’s not writing a book from scratch in six weeks. It’s just reworking it so it doesn’t suck.”

Tyson’s fingers wrap around my elbow. I stop and look down at where he holds me before looking up and meeting his gaze. His eyes are already locked on me, his lids hooded as he scans my face. “The fact that you can write a book is absolutely a talent. You should remember that.”

I let out a sad laugh. “I don’t know about that.”

He frowns as he continues to scan my face. “What do you mean?”

I swallow, wondering why I suddenly feel like voicing the doubts that have crept into my mind from the moment I was told by my publisher that my book basically sucked. “I mean, maybe I’m not talented at all. Maybe I got lucky with my previous books. Maybe now I’ve lost my spark,” I add on, the words coming out quieter at the end.

Tyson’s grip on me tightens slightly, reminding me that his hand is still there in the first place. I don’t mind it at all. I like the connection between our bodies. It feels good. “That’s not true,” Tyson gets out, his voice lowered but controlled.

“You haven’t read my books, so you don’t know that.”

This makes him smirk. “Does this mean I’m now allowed to read them, then?”

I shake my head. “Not a chance. Not only because they’re romance books, but also because now I’m terrified they might suck.”

The smile is wiped from his face as his lips press into a thin line. “You wouldn’t be where you’re at if you weren’t talented. You’ve hit a rough spot, but that doesn’t mean your books suck. Maybe you just need to find a way to get inspired again.”

My mouth suddenly feels incredibly dry. I swallow, words failing me. Something inside me relaxes at his comment. I didn’t realize how badly I needed to hear those words until he said them out loud. Since the meeting with my publisher, I’ve been feeling down about being capable of being an author at all. It feels like I’ve been constantly wondering if maybe the success I’ve had was just luck. Every now and then, the thought has crept in that maybe I won’t write another book that people love.

“Little did you know that when you asked me over for dinner tonight, it’d end with you having to give me a pep talk.”

Tyson’s grip on my arm loosens, but instead of pulling away, he turns his hand until his knuckles brush against my bare skin. He drags them along my arm, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his touch. “I’m here to give you a pep talk anytime you need me.”

I can’t help it. A slow, cautious smile blooms on my lips. “Be careful what you offer. I’m at a kind of career low right now for confidence. Frequent pep talks sound appealing.”