Page 10 of Loved Out Loud
“I know.”
The label are the ones who pushed this tour on us. I’ve only been sober eight months. My hold on sobriety is tenuous at best, especially considering the fact that I’m no stranger to relapse.
He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me beside him. “You know what we should find?”
“What?” I know where this is leading.
“If we can’t get high, we can at least get laid. Let’s go find some pussy.”
Five
HAZEL
My cheeks hurt from smiling,and I can barely close my hand into a fist after spending hours at the adorable little bookstore and cafe meeting readers. I had no expectations leading into my first signing, but this was beyond my wildest dreams. So many readers broughtmegifts.
Me.
It’s so surreal to experience the joy my words brought them. Most of the gifts are already back on the way to New York with Sierra, but I have a gorgeous paper rose, made from my book, that’s going on tour with me. I might make it my little mascot, documenting my journey with photos of it in random places.
The silence of the hotel room feels so loud after a day full of so many voices and so much laughter. I flop back onto the bed, sinking into the down comforter and let myself come down from the high. A glance at the clock tells me that my mom still isn’tdone with her shift, so I decide to call Greg instead. I have to share how amazing today was.
The phone rings and rings until I’m about to hang up, but he answers, a little breathless.
“Hello?” he greets around deep breaths.
“Hey, it’s me. Is this a bad time?”
“No, I was just coming back from the gym.”
“Oh, okay.”
“How was the signing?” he asks.
“So much better than I thought it would be. Seriously blew my mind to meet that many people who read and loved my book.”
He sighs. “Of course people loved the book. It’s fan fiction of a very beloved set of characters.”
All residual joy in my body slowly evaporates at the tone of his voice.
“It isn’t fan fiction. These are characters I created, in a world of my own making.”
“Deeply inspired by fan fiction you wrote. And wasn’t this signing taking place at an indie bookstore where they only sell romance?”
I don’t have to be with him to know the face he’s making at the word ‘romance.’ He’s always disparaged the genre. He finds it all to be daft and superficial. His words, not mine.
“Yes.”
He softens his tone at the bite in my voice and sighs. “Sorry, if I sound dismissive. I’m tired from my workout, and you’re tired from the long day you had. Let’s just drop it for tonight and talk later?”
I don’t say anything.
“This is why we can’t be in a relationship, Hazel. You’re too immature to realize that bragging about your successful career is always going to put me off. Especially when you know damn wellthat I’ve been getting rejection after rejection from my querying. It’s hard to watch your career flourish just because you decided to write easily marketable fluff.”
I hardly call gay romance easily marketable but whatever. There’s no way for me to even participate in this argument when he’s like this.
He sighs again. “And now you’re going to give me the silent treatment just because you refuse to see things from my angle.”
“I’m not giving you the silent treatment. I just know that anything I say will be turned against me.”
