Page 10 of Smash

“Mostly tweaking manuscripts and providing editorial feedback for fiction writers.”

“Is that what you’ve always wanted to do? You’d prefer to write, I assume.”

“I’d definitely prefer to write, but it doesn’t pay the bills in the beginning.”

“What do you want to write?” He leaned in, seeming invested in my answer.

Feeling my cheeks tingle, I said, “I’ve had this idea for a while. It’s a fantasy novel, but don’t laugh…”

“I would never,” he said, his expression serious.

“Okay, well, I should back up and say I’ve never loved anything mainstream. In high school, while my friends were into going to the mall or the movies, I was the girl sneaking out to go to the one club that had a slam-poetry night.”

Rafe’s eyes lit up. “No way. I fucking love slam poetry. A few times, I’ve gone to this place in the City where people perform it.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Continue. I want to see where this is going.”

“Well, it’s sort of a complicated story about a slam poet who unknowingly recites prophetic verses.”

His mouth dropped. “Shit. That sounds good. I wish you’d write it already, so I could read it.”

“I haven’t fully developed it yet, but someday I will.”

“Yet.” He winked. “Remember the power of yet.”

“Yeah.” I smiled.

Feeling the weight of his stare, I decided it was time to go. “Thank you for the veggie eggs. That was delicious.” I stood. “I have to get on with the laundry.”

“Good luck with that.”

My legs were wobbly as I headed down the steps, feeling a bit high from that interaction.

Just as I arrived at the basement laundry room, my phone rang. Nat.

“Hey!” I answered.

“Hey. Just got to my layover. Figured I’d give you a call to kill some time.”

“How was the first flight?”

“Uneventful. Not as fun as our ride.”

“Nothing will ever beat our road trip.” I laughed.

“We didn’t have much time to talk this morning, but last night was so freaking amazing. I can’t stop thinking about Rafe.”

You and me both. No way I could admit that to Nat—or anyone, for that matter.

“Yeah. He’s super talented, right?” I said, neglecting to mention that I’d just finished breakfast with the object of her desire.

“I can’t believe you get to live right upstairs from the guy. If I’d known Calder had friends like that, I would’ve bugged you a long time ago to set me up.”

“Trust me, I had no idea he was hiding those kinds of friends. He’d mentioned Rafe once or twice, but I’d never even seen a photo or known anything about his talent.”

I wanted to say more, namely that I suspected there was far more to Rafe on the inside than his looks, or even his artistic skills. He’d taken one look at me and sensed things no one else had. He’d made me feel seen in a way I hadn’t been recently.