Page 7 of King of Jokers

Hearing him say them aloud was something else entirely and I wanted to watch the words wrap around his mouth as he spoke.

“I didn’t realise you’d broken up?” Jack’s tone was softer and I could sense he was being cautious incase this was a sore point.

“Broken up is a stretch. We were never in a relationship. I don’t know, it’s a small town. It was meant to be mutualistic but it was anything but,” I admitted with a scowl. “Hence why I am finding myself with writer’s block when it comes to the c-o-c-k.”

“Read me what you have.”

“What? No.” Nope. Absolutely not. I couldn’t even say these words out loud let alone read him my work.

“I can help you.” He stated plainly, his smile back in place. “Or at least I probably can with the c-o-c-k stuff.” He said with a wink.

Grabbing the pillow next to me I held it over my face and groaned. Partially to hide the colour I knew my cheeks would be and also to have the tiniest moment to myself before I looked back at him.

What was I worried about? This was Jack Grant. The same boy, who on my twelfth birthday, walked the shore of Willow’s Beach with me for three hours until I found twelve perfect shells. One for each year I had been alive. The same boy who picked the tomato off every burger because he knew I hated the feeling on my tongue. The same man who after playing his first game for the Sydney Hearts, waited on the sideline until I could walk down what felt like two thousand steps and squeeze through a sea of adoring fans, just so I could congratulate him.

He was my best-friend. And a sexy, experienced man in his own right which meant, as much as I didn’t want to admit it, he probably could help me.

“Okay. But you can’t laugh.” Standing, I reached for the lounge to balance myself. “I’m going to need more of this orange stuff though. Make us another round while I grab my draft.”

“You sure you want another one?” He asked playfully as I lost my footing up the steps.

“Definitely.” I called before heading to my room for my smutty notes.

When I returned, Jack had two freshly made drinks in hand and a bowl of crisps sitting on the lounge between us.

“You read my mind.” Sitting back in the same space as before, I flipped the pages until I turned to the scene which had been only a quarter complete for two weeks, and grabbed a handful of crisps.

“So,” I said around crunches, “They’re in the plane and it’s tense.”

“He’s her boss and is loaded right? And she is his assistant?” He clarified and I nodded around another mouthful of salty deliciousness.

“Describe her to me. I need to picture it all so I can get the juices flowing.” He cracked his knuckles for emphasis and I laughed.

“Summer is…” I trailed off, pondering whether I just told him she looked like me, or if that would freak him out and sabotage his ability to help. And God knew I needed some.

“She’s unique. She’s confident and funny, but only around those she is familiar with and obviously that extends to her boss. She works really hard and takes her job seriously.” I pursed my lips, picturing my fierce female lead. She was everything I wanted to be and more.

“What does she look like?” He prodded before taking another sip of his drink. His eyes were glazed, this bat shit liquor from the 1960s working its way through both of us.

“She kinda looks like me, I guess.” I admitted with a chuckle.

“Obviously.” Jack replied exaggeratedly and I laughed. God he was so easy to be around. Moving the bowl of chips to the floor, I brought one leg up onto the lounge and turned to face him entirely.

“Okay, so they’re in the plane and he has just had this mind blowing epiphany that he is in love with her. And we all know he is used to getting whatever he wants whenever he wants, butshemakes him a little nervous,” I was speaking quickly, but I couldn’t bring myself to slow down. I loved this book and these characters more than any of the others I’d ever written.

“Oh, and just before they boarded the flight, Summer decided this was the last trip she would be taking with him because she was tired. Tired of loving someone who saw her as nothing more than a colleague.”

Jack hadn’t moved. His attention focused on every word I was saying and it gave me a boost of confidence. Maybe this story was good. Imposter syndrome – you can kindly piss right off because this was set to be a New York Bestseller.

Breaking eye contact I took a deep breath and began reading.

“A bone deep exhaustion settled into the air, wrapping me up and covering me whole. He was never going to see me. Eternally waiting for him to do just that had beaten me down and I was tired. Drying my face I pushed my feelings down for what would be a few more hours on this blasted plane and flattened my clothing. You can do this, Summer.

I slid the lock across and was startled when the door opened to Jackson standing less than a foot away, a look I’d never seen painting his face.

‘Where is everyone?’ I whispered, referring to the two female cabin crew who were always within a few metres in case he needed something. Or someone.

Never me though.

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