Page 24 of Loved Out Loud
“I do more than read and work,” he says.
“I saw you last night backstage reading on your Kindle while I was in the greenroom.”
“What do you like to read?” I interject.
“Mostly science fiction. Some high fantasy.”
“I’m sure you guys won’t want to listen to the Q and A, you should hunt down some books while we’re here.”
“Oh, I’m listening. I won’t be sitting in the audience, but I’ll be watching,” Stone promised.
Fuck.
As if I wasn’t nervous enough. I’m not sure what to say to that, so I glance out the window. There’s a long line of people on the sidewalk.
“Wow.” Jade leans toward me to get a better look out my window. “Do you think they’re all for you?”
The line snakes all the way around the block.
“There’s no way,” I say with a laugh. “That line is huge, and this is a smaller indie bookstore.”
“Babe.” Jade pats my knee. “Half of them are carrying copies of your book.”
My head jerks sideways, and sure enough, I see dozens of them holding my book. Holy fuck. My body heats instantly as my heart begins to beat faster.
I freeze in place as the SUV pulls into a parking garage and stops in front of a door with the bookstore's name. Adam gets out first and puts a ball cap on. He opens the door, and Jade steps out.
I still can’t move.
I can’t breathe.
I feel like I’m going to pass out.
Someone says my name, but it sounds like I’m underwater. Who do I even think I am doing this? I wrote Maverick and Ice Man fan fiction in college because I was bored and Top Gun is my guilty pleasure. Now I’m an author? Me? How? Why?
“Hey, little Archer. Look at me.”
I feel a calloused hand on my cheek. My head is turned until my eyes lock on Stone’s ocean blues. He caresses my cheek.
“Take a few deep breaths with me, okay?”
I nod, and he takes a deep breath through his nose, exhaling through his mouth as soon as I follow his lead. We do it a few more times before he speaks again.
“Better?” he asks, his hand still cupping my face.
“Yes. But no. There’s so many people. I feel like a fraud on a good day. This is ludicrous.”
“You’re not a fraud.” He looks into my eyes like he can see straight through to my soul.
“I am. I’m an imposter.” I break his gaze, it’s too intense.
“Look at me.” The command in his voice sends a tingle through my body that pools between my thighs. “You are Hazel fucking Archer, New York Times best-selling author. Those are your fans, and they’re here for you because your book was there for them. Give them the show that they deserve.”
He’s right. Time to pull up my big girl pants and meet my incredible readers. “I don’t have fans, I have readers,” I say quietly. “But you’re right about everything else. I’m good.” I put my hand over his and squeeze it, barely suppressing the urge to kiss his palm in thanks.
What the hell is that about anyway? Probably just because he smells so good. And sounds so good.
“Okay.” He drops his hand and steps out of the SUV.
