My mouth dried as nerves jittered. Actually, everything inside me jittered, unsteady and fragile. He didn’t say I’d won the bet. But then, this was just the first day. I should relax for the next two hours—at least—for the Amazon rankings to be updated. And he was right about Mom. She checked how my book was doing even more obsessively than me, so she could have her revenge against Dad vicariously.
“If you need help relaxing, I can always rise to the occasion,” Killian said.
I laughed, appreciating his attempt to distract me. “You did enough of that yesterday.” I kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he said. “Literally.”
“I should be used to this, but I never can just relax.”
And it wasn’t just about the bet. I’d never been able to just sit back and chill when I had a new book coming out. But this time, the stakes were so much higher. The bet weighed heavily. Holly Stein was waiting for a text from either me or Dad so she could go ahead and have the ads published. And if I lost and the full-page ads went out as Dad wanted, they’d be the ultimate slap in the face to my readers and all hardworking romance authors. I’d have to get a new identity to hide from all the hate I’d get.
Or tell everyone the truth about the bet.
But that seemed stupid on its own. It was ridiculous to make a bet like that, especially when you weren’t a hundred percent certain you could win. I’d done it out of anger and stubborn pride, but those were dumb, dumb reasons. And not everyone would see my post about the story behind the ads. So I’d still end up being the most hated romance author ever.
But My Fair Molly had just become available in the Amazon store. I was being much too impatient thinking that it should be number one right this moment.
“Hey, you care,” Killian said. “I know the bet is part of it, but I also think you care a lot about how your fans receive your work.”
“Yeah, I do.”
I set the pillows so I could lean against the headboard comfortably. Killian settled down next to me with his coffee.
“I just want them to laugh and have fun with the book, you know?” I said. “Nothing brightens my day like getting an email from a fan telling me my books made her laugh or made her feel better after a long, hard day.”
“They’ll love your new book, too.”
I leaned my head on his shoulder. It was lovely and comforting to be able to share the moment with somebody who respected my work. “Do you feel this nervous when you release a new album?”
“Of course.” He held my hand in his, running his thumb gently along my fingers. “We think it’s great stuff. We want everyone to love it. But tastes can change, or the timing isn’t right… Lots of things can make or break how the songs are received. It’s hard to put a piece of ourselves out there because we’re vulnerable.”
Yeah, I thought. That’s it. I finished my coffee. Killian got a call and went downstairs to take it. So I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and take a quick shower.
Afterward, trying to breathe slowly, I went to the living room to check my laptop. I told myself I’d be okay as long as I was in the top ten at the moment, although a small part of me knew that was a lie. Nothing less than number one would do.
Before I could open my laptop, my phone started ringing. It was Mom.
Oh shit. She didn’t usually call me on the day of the launch unless something was wrong.
Please don’t let it be another Dad’s Cheating on Mom drama, please please please…
On the other hand, it might be something worse. Like all my ads were rejected or my newsletter service server went down.
My stomach in an ugly knot that made me want to vomit, I hit the green button.
“Hi, Mom.” My voice quavered a little.
“Oh my God!” She let out a squeal loud enough to fry my phone’s speaker. “Oh my God!”
“What happened?” My heart started to beat faster. My mouth dried until it felt like it was full of dust. It was either really good news or bad. She had to tell me which before I lost my mind. “What?”
“It’s number one! I just checked! It’s number one!”
The words trickled into my brain, but my mental gears got stuck for a second. All thought vanished, and I couldn’t feel anything.
“I screencapped it! I sent it to you and your dad! You need to email Holly and have her put out the ads!” Mom laughed. “I can’t wait! I can’t even sit still.”
“Oh my God!” I said finally, repeating what Mom had said in lieu of greeting. “Oh my God!”
“I know, right?”
“Thank you, Mom! I gotta go!”
“Of course. Celebrate! Woohoo!”
The phone slipped from my shaking hand and fell on the table next to the laptop. Then I started jumping, my fists up in the air. I screamed, “Yes, yes, yes!”
Killian came into the room, looking at me curiously. I ran and jumped on him, my heart swelling until it felt like it’d explode with joy and triumph. I laughed, breathless, my face hot.
“I did it! Mom just said I topped the chart!”
A huge grin split his gorgeous face, his eyes bright as the corners crinkled. “I knew it! Congratulations!”
He wrapped his arms around me. Our mouths met in a kiss that ended in a laugh.
“You’re shaking,” Killian said.
“I’m just in shock.” It was one thing to dream of making it, but something else to have it happen for real. All the hard work, all the anxiety and insomnia—and that damned running!—had paid off. And I got to celebrate my victory with everyone when Dad paid for the ads, admitting that he was wrong and romance freakin’ rocked.
“I thought you had everything in place to make it happen.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t sure. You never know how a book is going to do. And I was certain Dad would do whatever he could to sabotage me.”
“Sabotage?” Killian tilted his head. “Seriously?”
I nodded. “Oh yeah. More times than I can count. But it doesn’t matter now.”
“You’re right, it doesn’t. We have to celebrate. And I”—he turned and indicated the kitchen—“just happen to have a bottle of Dom chilling in the fridge.”
I stared at him. “When did you get it?”
“Yesterday. I had a feeling.”
Air clogged in my throat. I couldn’t believe how he could be so certain when I hadn’t been. And it sent a warmth through me that spread everywhere in my body and ended in my heart. “You’re awesome,” I said, my voice thick.
“Hey, you’re the one who’s number one.” He kissed my forehead. “Let me pour the champagne.”
He pulled the blue-green bottle out from the fridge and two flutes from the cabinet, then brought them to the dining table. He expertly uncorked the bubbly wine, muscles flexing under those forearm tattoos, and as I watched him, my entire torso fluttered with something that felt like anticipation, surprise and maybe even love. He poured two flutes and handed me one.
“To my very successful girlfriend,” he said.
My cheeks and neck warm, I clinked my glass with his. I liked the way he called me his girlfriend. A lot. It made our relationship feel that much more concrete and real. The obvious and logical next step toward making this more than a fling. Something worth moving to Dallas for.