Page 43 of Smoke and Fire
Unlikely.
My phone chirped with her almost-instant reply.
Dahlia:It’s not really that hard. The hardest part is putting the books down to answer the emails.
Bastian:Oh yeah? What’s your favorite so far?
A question. That was good. That was engaging her and would keep her responding. When my knuckles turned white from gripping the phone while I waited for her reply, I forced myself to relax.
This wasn’ta first date, or anything.
Dahlia:Is ‘all of the above’ an option?
Bastian:Sure.
Dahlia:Then I choose that one. You’re really talented, Bastian. I mean Jess. ;)
GIF
I chuckled at a GIF of a kitten appearing to laugh, then fall off a table. Happiness in the middle of the woods after an exhausting day would only draw questions from the other guys. Questions I didn’t care to answer right now.
Jess made it so much easier to dodge the praise of and questions about my work. Not to mention the awkwardness of people that I knew reading the book and then giving me the rundown. I didn’t care if they loved the books or not, but most people seemed to feel obligated to bluster through some praise.
Bastian:Thanks.
Dahlia:A few questions that came up today: 1) Are you married and is your romantic life how you find your inspiration? 2) Have you ever eaten cricket protein? 3) Do you write in coffee shops all the time? If so, what flavor of coffee invites your muse?
Were they her questions or reader questions? I shook my head. No, probably not from her. Sometimes readers wrote in with questions I’d never heard of before. A second grin surfaced while I typed out replies starting with the last question first, then slowed with question #1.
Did she reallynotknow if I was married?
Then again . . . how would she know?
Sure, there were strong assumptions to be made that I wasn’t married based on the few morsels of information I’d given her, but she clearly hadn’t made those assumptions. Or maybe she fished now.
For my part, I hope she fished.
Bastian:I am married. With four children, a dog, and a white picket fence.
Dahlia:GIF
GIF
The image of a zombie walking down an aisle alone, eyes wide and fixed, with normal children trying to get his attention, sent a bark of laughter out of me.
I turned it into a cough at the last moment. Following it was another image of a herd of at least forty small dogs racing along a white picket fence while their toothless owner yelled at them from a porch in the background.
Dahlia:That’s how I picture you. #livingyourbestlife
Responses failed me. While I wrestled another round of laughter back, I typed out the only response that came to mind.
Bastian:#nailedit
Dahlia sent so many different emojis, all some form of laughter, that they filled half my screen. She rounded it out with a separate message.
Dahlia:Thanks for the laugh. Update incoming tomorrow. And seriously with the cricket thing. The world needed to know, Bastian. #thisisserious
I lowered onto my pad with a sigh, fatigue making my body loose as jello. My phone turned off while I promised myself I’d message her something witty in the morning. Because there would be another update, and that was something worth being excited about.
