Page 57 of Unforgettable You

I wanted to do something to make it up to her. To show her that I didn’t want to be the person who flipped out after kissing her.

At first, I thought about making cupcakes or something, but that wasn’t very good. Then I considered writing her something, but I’d always been truly terrible at poetry. That did give me an idea though.

This is the link to my fanfic profile. Read whatever you want. I sent the message before I could think about the consequences of opening myself up like that.

What should I start with? She asked a few minutes later.

How far did you get in the show? I asked.

Far enough to know it’s them She sent, along with a picture of the two female characters from the show. I smiled.

Then you should read Falling from the Sky I responded. It wasn’t my first fic, but it was still my favorite. I’d written it in a frenzy right after I dropped out of school. I’d just moved into my apartment and barely had any furniture and I’d just started working at Sapph and everything was falling apart, but I’d needed something good. That had been before I met Cade and Hunter, but Jo had been there and she’d told me if it brought me joy, then I should do it.

I’d typed in a frenzy, my hands and fingers aching. I’d stopped every few hours to ice them, but then I’d gulped down an energy drink and had gone right back to it. In only a few weeks, I’d written thousands and thousands of words and I’d put it up and readers had responded. It was still my most-read and commented fic and I often went back and re-read some of the best parts. That story had come from a special place and I didn’t think I could recreate the circumstances that had led to that story. It had been magic in the middle of madness.

Thank you for sharing this with me, Reid. I know it isn’t easy.

It wasn’t. There was no way that she was going to love all my fanfic, and I’d have to deal with my feelings when she didn’t like something. Wasn’t looking forward to it.

I really hope you don’t hate it I sent.

I’m not going to hate it She responded.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Sophie

At first, I wondered if I’d pushed Reid too far that night, but then she’d responded to my messages and said she was going to therapy. And then she’d sent me her fanfic.

That was huge. Completely unexpected and I’d been shocked when I got that message. I’d looked through her profile and saw she was prolific. She’d written so much, holy crap. That was impressive. I’d had no idea. She’d done a lot, and her stories had been read a ton of times. Especially the one she’d recommended. She wasn’t the top author in that fandom, but she was up there.

I’d immediately started reading and within a few paragraphs, I was completely hooked. Absolutely riveted. I didn’t want to let my eyes leave the page, not even to blink.

The story was a little rough, with typos here and there, but her words were so compelling that I didn’t care. Her sentences were poetry sprinkled in with some of the best flirting dialogue and banter that I’d read in a long time. There was just something about the way she wrote that made me want to giggle and kick my feet and clutch my ereader to my chest and sigh in happiness.

There was no way I was sleeping tonight.

Reid and I hadn’t talked about it, but we’d been keeping our distance from each other. It seemed like the right thing to do while she worked on herself.

But I missed her. We still got to talk, but I missed her voice and the way her face looked when she was listening to me and hearing her laugh. I missed seeing her eyes go from brown to gold and back.

“No doubt about it, you’re in a pickle, my love,” Larison said during one of our video chats. Juniper had passed out on the couch after watching a princess movie so we could speak freely.

“Yeah, I’m aware,” I said, feeling grumpy about it.

“How long are you going to give her space?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Until she says that she wants to see me.”

Larison frowned and shifted Juniper off her lap slowly so she didn’t wake up.

“Did you ask her about that, or are you assuming?”

“It just seems like what she’d want,” I said, defensive.

“You should talk to her,” Larison sang softly. “At least check in.”

I didn’t want to. Because then she might say that she didn’t want to talk to me at all and this might all be over.