Page 16 of Speechless

“Can I ask you guys something?”

“No, I don’t have a girlfriend. Yes, I’m interested.” Jayce wraps an arm around me. “But only when you move out. I don’t do morning afters.”

I wiggle out of Jayce’s embrace as Graham starts cracking up.

“What?” That smile. He is dangerous.

“No, thank you.”

“Thatta girl!” Graham pats me on the shoulder, impressed I was able to resist Jayce’s charm. “Ignore him, love. What’s your question?”

“Well . . . I was going to ask why you guys are being so nice to me.” They both squint at me. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. I just—well, it’s been a really fun day. You guys were all so welcoming this morning, but I’m just some random stranger that showed up at your house.”

Jayce looks pensive for a moment and I’m sure I’m about to get a snarky, typical-Jayce response, but he surprises me. “I guess, well, Henry doesn’t really bring home girls, so I figured you must be important.”

“Oh, I’m not a girl.”Jesus Lucy, do you ever think before you speak?“I mean, I’m a girl, obviously. But not to Henry. Well, okay, I’m sure he knows I’m a girl, but not like that. Please tell me you understand what I’m saying so I can stop embarrassing myself?” I can see him struggling to hold in the laughter.

“You’re definitely a girl, love,” Graham says. “Plus, we work all the time and see way too much of each other. It’s nice to have some fresh blood.”

8

Lucy

After a dinnerof delicious (delivered) pizza with Graham and my new favorite sectional, I head to my room for an early night. My first day here was strangely awesome. For the first time in a long time, I’m looking forward to tomorrow. It feels kind of amazing.

I’m finally motivated to start writing again.

Where to begin? My take onSleeping Beautyhas been my most popular book so far. I think because it was quite a bit darker than my previous ones. Everyone seems to like murder and espionage these days, even tweens. For years I’ve been planning to do my take onThe Little Mermaid. It was by far my favorite story as a girl—hell, I’ve wanted to get a sheepdog ever since I saw Prince Eric and Max. I picture the little girl from the airport. Am I really brave enough to attempt a space odyssey?

There are so many different directions I could go in, but I’ve been trying to write for the last year, and I’ve been completely blocked. It’s hard to be inspired by perfect princes and magical love at first sight when you’re in my current position. My editor is expecting a full draft three months from now and I don’t have a single word.

Maybe it’s time I write something without a happy ending.

I think back to my house tour earlier with Jayce, how he pretended the basement was a secret lair I must avoid at all costs. It reminds me ofBeauty and the Beast. I pull up the Disney app to see if it’s available to watch. Maybe this is the inspiration I need. And if not, I do love seeing Belle flit around the library.

My slumber ceases abruptlyat four in the morning when Rowan starts pressing down on me, licking my nose and tapping my shoulder with his paw.

Then I feel it.

“Ahhh.” I bend at the waist, trying to displace the sharpness in my lower back. I scoot backward, trying to prop myself up on the pillows. “Thanks Row. You know the drill.”

He hops off the bed to go snatch one of my Warmies and returns with my favorite one tucked in his mouth: the otter, one of many that Sarah gifted me.

In college, it wasn’t always easy finding an outlet in convenient spots, so Sarah introduced me to Warmies. A cute stuffed animal next to the bed or thrown in my backpack was much less conspicuous than a heating pad, and I can take them just about anywhere.

“Thank you, my love. Let’s go heat this bad boy up.”

Rowan snatches my pill bottle and follows me closely to the kitchen. It’s early enough that I’m not worried about bumping into anyone, so I don’t bother changing out of my PJs. I toss the cute little otter in the microwave and heat him up for a couple of minutes. Then we head back to bed and form a nice and toasty cuddle party.

There’s a bit of a ritual to this. First the Warmies, then my pills, then I turn on my “Take a Breath” playlist and let Henry’s music do its thing while we build the snuggle pile under every available blanket. I keep the volume low this morning, not wanting anyone in the house to hear.

I don’t take Rowan with me everywhere. His training helps him sense my pain a bit before I do, especially if I’m at risk of fainting. But as long as I’m not alone, it’s more than safe to go places without him.

The thing is, lately, I’ve been alonea lot. Pretty much every day until I got to LA. It’s bonded us together, made us closer than we ever were before the divorce. It’s nice to know I can depend on him, that I don’t need anyone else around.

It also scares me a little, how easily I’ve adjusted to this isolated existence.

A few hourslater I’m feeling back to normal. I’m also starving, so I throw on some clothes and head to the kitchen to make breakfast. HAAAM—still no Henry in sight—seem to be waiting for me. They’re all toasting bagels—the ones I convinced Graham we should get at the store so there wassomethingto eat in the house—and Jayce casually asks which one I want. To him it’s nothing, but to me . . . day two of my new life and I’m not feeling so alone. Maybe it won't just be me and Rowan forever.

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