Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Um, excuse me,” she says, glancing at Kat, then back at me. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but are you Talon McKnight?”
I nod, and Kat’s whole body tenses beside me.
The girl’s cheeks go pink. “Oh my god, I knew it. I was at your reading at Century Pages. Your book is, like, everything. Would you mind signing my copy?”
I smile, take the pen she offers. My signature is a mess, but I scrawl it on the title page, then hand it back.
She beams. “Thank you! And, um, is this—” she gestures to Kat, “—your girlfriend?”
There’s a pause. The world seems to go dead quiet. I look at Kat, unsure if I should say yes, but she just arches an eyebrow, challenging.
“Yes,” I say, and it feels both dangerous and true. “She is.”
The girl squeals, but then, reading the moment, dials it down. “You two are adorable. Sorry again for interrupting. Enjoy your dinner!” She scurries off, the book hugged tight.
I turn to Kat, but her eyes are on her plate.
“You okay?” I ask, voice low.
She’s quiet for a long second, then shrugs. “I didn’t know people approached you out of the blue in real life.”
I reach across the table, cover her hand with mine. “I’m only famous for very niche things. Like writing romantic tales about beautiful women in the woods.”
She laughs, but it’s a little sad. “Still, it’s weird. Like, everywhere you go, there’s a chance someone recognizes you. I can’t compete with that.”
I squeeze her hand. “I don’t want you to compete. I want you to be yourself.”
She looks at me, and for a second I see the old vulnerability, the unfiltered Kat. “It just sucks sometimes. Knowing you’re the fantasy for a lot of women. And I’m what? Your muse? The girl on the page?”
“No,” I say, maybe too loud. “You’re not just the girl on the page. You’re the whole fucking book.”
Kat’s eyes glisten, but she blinks it away. “That was so cheesy, Talon. Like, peak cheese.”
I grin. “I stand by it. You’re everything to me, Katherine. I really mean it.”
The food arrives, and we dig in. Every now and then, the curvy girl looks like she’s about to speak, but she keeps glancing at me, like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Halfway through the tiramisu, she says, “You know, I never asked. What happens in the sequel?”
I take a bite, savoring the sweetness. “I haven’t written it yet.”
She leans forward, her voice low. “What if the main character leaves the guy? Goes to grad school, and starts her own life?”
I nod slowly, my heart thumping. I knew this was coming, and have an answer prepared. “Then I guess the guy has to find a way to win her back. Maybe he shows up at her door with a thousand apologies. Or maybe he just lets her go, because that’s what she needs. If you love someone, then set them free. It’s an old adage, but true.”
Kat considers that, picking at the cake with her fork. “You’d really let her go?”
I nod, slowly. “If it made her happy. Yeah.”
She looks at me, blue eyes searching. “You’re not very good at playing the possessive alpha male who shackles the heroine in his cave, are you?”
“Never claimed to be,” I say. “But I am good at writing about one.”
She laughs, the sound soft and genuine.
And then, as I reach for the check, a shadow falls across our table. I look up, and squint. Who is this woman? Another fan? She’s blonde and bossy, and staring daggers at me.
“Simone!” Kat gasps with surprise. “What are you doing here?”
The woman’s in a black turtleneck and a pair of jeans so tight they look painted on. Her hair is in a perfect ponytail, her eyes glittering with the kind of mischief that means someone’s about to get called out. She slides into the booth next to Kat, nearly shoving the curvy girl out of her seat with the force of her entrance.
“Evening, folks,” Simone says, folding her arms. “Sorry I’m late. Was finishing up an assignment.”
Kat’s jaw drops. “Simone, what the hell? Why are you here? You can’t just crash my date!”
“No, it’s fine,” I say in an even tone. “We were just finishing up anyways.”
Simone turns to me, and for a second I think she’s going to start the Spanish Inquisition. Sure enough, she gives me a slow, sly smile. “You know, for a supposed asshole, you’re very kind. Thank you for welcoming me.”
I shrug. “I was speaking the truth. We were leaving anyways.”
Simone laughs, then gestures for the waiter, ordering a glass of wine without looking at the menu.
The three of us sit in silence for a beat, then Simone leans in, voice low. “I have three questions, Talon McKnight. Answer carefully because Kat’s already told me everything so I’ll know if you’re disseminating.”