Page 66 of Smoke and Fire
A jumble of things that I wanted to say to Dahlia ran through my head, but I didn’t know how to thread them into sentences.
My fingers itched. If I had a blank page in front of me, I’d know what to do. I’d knowexactlywhat to say. If I were Rodrigo or Adrick or any of the other males I usually wrote, this wouldn’t be so hard. Life was so much easier to experience through them.
Instead, I tucked my phone underneath my pillow, stacked my hands behind my head, and tried not to think about how much I wanted to go back to Pineville. The number one slot, the launch, even Inessa and Dad . . . none of those occupied my mind. Not even thoughts of a hot shower or the feeling of being clean.
Only Dahlia.
19
DAHLIA
Three days later, Lizbeth blinked as she stared at me through wide eyes.
“Shut. Up.”
She’d wound her silky red hair into a braid, then a bun on top of her head. A few tendrils dropped down around her ears, creating a fuzzy, halo-like appearance. Freckles smattered the bridge of her nose. She reminded me of a fairy.
An adorably-pregnant one.
“All of them.” I gestured toward the stack of nineteen romance books in front of her. “I couldn’t stop. I've been reading like a maniac the last two weeks because of the launch.”
She blinked. "The launch?"
Too late, I realized my blunder. With a smile meant to smooth over a bolt of fear, I said, "Yes! The new Jess book? I wanted to be in on the action."
"Oh, right!" She squealed, her petite hands clapping. “The new book. So good. Totally worth it. I read it in four hours in between coding new prebuilt components before I worked on issues with JavaScript plugins. Hello? Not surprising. Love me some bootstrap, right?"
My brain scrambled every time she slipped her website programming into our talks. Seeing my expression, she brightened.
"In other words—I knew it! Romance is changing your life. You went from a hater to a believer. I’m the shiiiiiz.”
My mouth remained open, torn. What could I say? While mostly right, she wasn’t entirely wrong. I never hated romance. I . . . danced around it. I inwardly sighed. Holding Bastian's secret wasn't easy. Let her have her moment. The woman was pregnant. She needed every win.
“You were right, Lizbeth. These books are incredible.”
Admitting it caused me no pain, although I would have expected it to kill me just a few weeks ago. It had been just under twenty days since Lizbeth first introduced me to Jess, and I was already done with all twenty one novels. My high school English teacher would have fainted with pride.
Lizbeth sobered, leaning one arm against the counter.
“I know. The books really are that good. The launch a few days ago? It was abigdeal. People plan vacations around these launches. Fandoms everywhere let out a collective squeal the moment the books arrive on our e-readers. I also hosted a party in the bakery for my local Jess fan club. Twenty women showed up as strangers and left best friends. Romance at work.”
By sheer willpower, I managed to keep a straight face.
“So I’ve heard.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket with a text. Could it be Bastian? The thought sent a thrill through me. He would return home today at some point and every single minute dragged by. Excitement sent frissons of giddiness into me at odd intervals, and I ended up making a quiet giggle-squeal every seven minutes.
Lizbeth’s left arm held the twenty-first Jess novel anchored firmly against her ribcage. A ratted napkin—her bookmark, I presumed—frayed out the end of the book. A contemplative expression had come over her.
“Jess did an interview, you know?”
Real interest piqued my voice higher. “Oh?”
Lizbeth waved a hand. “Written, of course. She does those every now and then. There was a secret, quiet hope amongst a bunch of her fans that this launch would be when she revealed more about herself. There was more social media noise, as expected, but nothing concrete.” She rolled her eyes. “Not counting that stupid post from that Kat girl.”
My heart almost stopped. All my considerable willpower barely kept my restraint in place. I cleared my throat.
“What post are you talking about?” I asked.
