Page 10 of Going Viral for Christmas
I need to focus. Or get laid. Preferably by anyonebutthe six-foot-four fantasy menace staring at me like I’m halfway out of this dress.
I wish the floor would open up and eat me.
“Let’s just get this over with.” I square my shoulders like a soldier in formation, ignoring the tremor building inside my chest.
After Jade finishes with our mics, she walks off, shaking her head, muttering on about authors and their unresolved sexual tension.
“Right this way,” Jessica forces us forward.
The buzz of the ballroom dulls behind us as we make our way through a back hallway. We pass several doors before Jessica opens one marked:Event Center.
Slipping into a utilitarian space smelling faintly of dust and stale coffee, the low thrum of backstage chatter, along with the occasional jump scare of a walkie-talkie, drifts through the air.
Exposed pipes line the ceiling. Folding chairs, extension cords, and cardboard boxes labeledSWAG BAGS - PANEL 3are stacked haphazardly along one wall. A half-eaten muffin sits forgotten on a metal table beside an open laptop looping the event schedule.
Another woman—this one with a headset, and the aura of someonekeeping twelve flaming tasks in the air—spots us approaching. She waves enthusiastically.
“Ava Bell! Oh my goodness, I’m Shirley Whitemire—” her badge saysChaos Coordinator “—I’m such a huge fan! I’ve readThe Boyfriend Deadlinethree times and teared up at the puppy yoga scene each re-read.”
Despite my nerves, I instantly love this overly vibrant woman wearing a burnt-orange blazer with a pilgrim hat pin. Her excitement is infectious. And the fact that she read and liked my bomb book makes my anxiety dial down a notch.
“Thank you so much, Shirley.” I beam back at her. “That means the world to me.”
“And Soren Pembry!” She bounces on her toes. “The Blade!”
“A pleasure to meet you.” Soren holds his hand out for her to shake, which she vigorously does.
“Oh, the pleasure is all mine.” Shirley is still shaking his hand. “You know, I have to admit, I’m more of a contemporary romance girl. However, my book club devoured the Court of Thirst and Thorns. We spent two hours debating whether Kael was a green flag or a red flag in leather pants.”
“What was the verdict?” he asks.
“Unanimous red flag,” Shirley giggles. “But we’d all still climb him like a tree.”
I snort-laugh before I can stop myself, a full-on, inelegant, traitorous laugh.
Soren’s eyes immediately shift to me. “Don’t knock it till you try it, Ava.”
“Oh, I’ve tried red flags,” I retort. “But I don’t usually line up for the sequel.”
“Usually, huh?” His growly tone slips under my skin as if it’s received clearance. “Never know. A walking red flag could ruin all the green ones for you.”
“Ruin? Cute. You write brooding weapon racks with abandonment issues. Let’s not.”
Soren’s gaze is a caress on my skin. He’s every bit the smoldering anti-hero he writes.
To my utter horror, he moves closer, his proximity sending a shiver skittering up my spine.
“I could rewrite how you burn, Ava.”
My jaw falls to the floor at the same time my vagina throws confetti. What the fuck did he just say?
Before I can ask that question out loud, I snap my mouth shut and tilt my chin, refusing to let him see how my pulse is trying to breakdance.
I know what Soren’s doing, turning the heat up on purpose, tossing out loaded lines and sinful smirks, hoping I’ll lose my footing before we even reach the stage.
Let them see fire.
“Not today, Blade Boy. I’ve faced worse than some cocky fantasy author with a fandom that probably sells scented candles in your honor.”
