Page 11 of Kill Your Darlings

Suddenly, I was out of things to say.

Luckily our sailor girl shipped in with our drinks.

The alcohol helped—by the second round, Kyle and I were chatting like old friends (about what, I have no idea).The food was better than expected, and I was relieved because this very long day was coming to a close, and very soon I’d be able to escape to the quiet and privacy of my hotel room.

Unfortunately, my timing was off.In my rush to get us out of the restaurant, I’d forgotten Finn liked to take his time over meals.Even though they’d probably arrived half an hour before us, we ended up leaving the restaurant at the same time.

This time when Finn suggested we share an Uber, Kyle shrugged and looked to me for the deciding vote.

Of course, I wasn’t going to insist on our hoofing it back to the hotel.It was later, colder, and we both a had long and busy tomorrow ahead of us.

“Thanks, that would be great,” I told Finn, and the four of us crowded into the green Toyota Camry idling impatiently in front of the restaurant.I assumed Finn would take the front, but nope.Hartman announced he was prone to claustrophobia and slid in beside the driver.

Somehow, I ended up nested between Kyle and Finn in the backseat.Three adult males—wide shoulders and long legs—were definitely a crowd in this mid-sized space, and God help us if we had to make an emergency exit.I half-angled my shoulder to Finn, but it really didn’t help.I was pressed against his chest, in a way that felt unnervingly familiar.He got his arm free and reached across the back of the seat, resting against my shoulders.Because I was tired and had had too much to drink, it—his warmth and nearness, his familiarity—was unexpectedly overwhelming.The mingled scent of warm suede, Yamazaki 12, and an aftershave that reminded me of sea breezes, sunlit cypress, and driftwood.Tom Ford Costa Azzurra.I had a bottle sitting in my bathroom back in New York.He’d forgotten it when he’d stayed with me.

My eyes prickled unexpectedly and I imagined what would happen if I gave in to jetlag and depression, if I let emotion swamp me; imagined the reaction if I started crying in the back of this fake-pine-scented Uber winding its way through the foggy streets…

I laughed.

Kyle glanced at me questioningly.Finn’s breath was warm against the back of my neck.“Something funny?”

I shook my head, not turning, but yes, there was a certain dark humor to the moment.

We probably weren’t in the car more than five minutes before we reached the hotel.

Hartman hopped out, waiting on the sidewalk while Finn and I arm-wrestled over the fare.Figuratively.Though nearly literally.

“It’s already paid for,” Finn said as I tried to thrust a handful of bills at him.

“But we’re sharing, so—”

“So, it’s my treat.”

“But sharing means splitting—”

Kyle joked, “Don’t make me break you two up.”

“Too late,” I muttered.

Finn didn’t move a muscle.

“It was a three-minute drive,” Hartman bleated from outside the car.“I’m sodonewith all the macho posturingbullshit,”

Inside the car, there was an astonished silence.

I withdrew my cash, retorted, “Droll, isn’t he?”

Finn spluttered an unwilling laugh, and we all crawled ungracefully out of the car, which departed in a cloud of exasperated exhaust.

Hartman led the way through the glass doors.The lobby was much more crowded now, much noisier.Check-in was a mile long, but everyone was in good spirits as attendees greeted old friends and favorite authors.The lobby bar was packed, standing room only, which was how it would be for most of the conference.

“Should we try for a table?”Finn asked our group at large.

“Let’s go to the restaurant.Schooners,” Hartman said.

Kyle said to me, “I promised Adam I’d phone.”

I nodded, said to Finn and Hartman, “I’ve got a mountain of work to get through tonight.”

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