Had I overreacted? We were supposed to be having adult fun. That certainly didn’t involve jealousy and control, yet I’d been both jealous and controlling. The thought that he might be jerking me around had produced ripples of anger that quickly transformed into tsunami-sized waves.
Unable to get him out of my mind, I scribbled down the erotic scenes we’d created, figuring that putting it on paper would help me digest and get over it; but the only thing that had happened after reading it back was me touching myself, trying to recapture the dramatic release he’d given me. The climax paled in comparison and when it was over, I gritted my teeth and before falling into bed.
The knocking intensified, and I dragged myself out of the lonely bed.
Dinah’s voice rang from behind the barrier like an annoying alarm. “Storm, it’s almost eight o’clock in the morning,” she called out. “Open the door, woman.”
I dragged my hands over my face, wincing, thanks to my stiff muscles. I didn’t know if they were sore from the almost-accident or the way Evan had my body twisted around his most of the night.
“I’m coming,” I grunted out. The minute I pulled the door open, she barreled in, completely dressed in another designer power suit. The woman didn’t stop.
“Wakey, wakey. Rise and shine, Storm,” she sang with a thunderous clap of her hand.
“Oh my God, Dinah. It’s way too early for this.”
“Too early?” her neck shot back, as if the suggestion was ludicrous. “It’s eight o’clock in the morning, Storm. It’s the early bird who gets the worm – I don’t have to tell you that, do I? Besides, you have that interview with LoveTalk Radio tonight. We need to get moving.”
“Key word: tonight.”
Dinah scowled.
I stomped back to the bed and pulled the covers over my head.
“Fine, just… give me another hour,” I groused. “I had a really late night and I’m busted.”
“A late night…” her tone dipped, and her presence drew closer. Suddenly, I felt the edge of the bed dent and her weight press down against me. “You and Jaxson must’ve had a really good time if I’m dragging you out of bed like this.”
I tried but couldn’t keep the grin off my face as I slowly pulled the covers from over my head. “We had more than a good time,” I divulged. “We shared breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert!”
Dinah rolled her eyes, but settled herself further onto the bed. “You gonna’ give me the details or what?” she asked, looking at her watch.
“You know I’m gonna’ give you the details!”
“Raw and dirty, no doubt?”
“Sushi and sewer!”
Dinah shook her head, grinning.
“Jaxson…” I sucked in my bottom lip just thinking about him and it, “He was everything,” I swooned, eyes rolling closed. “He feasted on my body, Dinah. The man had my toes curling like that damn witch in the Wizard of Oz.”
“The one with the red shoes?”
“That bitch!”
Dinah closed her eyes and inhaled.
“I was a complete and utter slut last night,” I said. “We role played scenes for Book Three, and when I tell you that no less than three chapters were written, you’d better believe me.”
“Damn, Storm,” she said. “It sounds like he rocked your entire world.”
“He did,” I confirmed, and then my smile dipped. “And therein lies the problem.”
“The problem?”
I sighed and let my head sink back onto the pillows. The fact that I could still smell Jaxson all over them did little to ease my tension. “Jaxson role-played Evan so well, I’m actually starting to believe he’s Evan in the flesh.”
“What… do you mean?” Dinah questioned, side-eyeing me.
I sat up. “His phone was ringing all day and night.”
Dinah shrugged. “So?”
“What do you mean, so, Dinah?” I demanded, neck flying back. “That’s an Evan Hanson move, to the letter! How many women did Evan juggle in Book Two? He even had different cell phones, just so he could keep track of all of them. Evan is a player and apparently so is Jaxson. It’s a sign.”
Dinah’s mouth pressed into a line.
“And then when I asked him about it, he tried to worm his way out of the question by dropping lines, suggesting that I’m the only important person in his life.” I scoffed. “Is he serious? He doesn’t even know me, yet I’m supposed to believe that kind of crap?” I scoffed again, trying my best to make it more dramatic. “He has a right to be with however many women he wants,” I explained, “and I have a right not to want to be one of them. I’m not doing that, Dinah. I’m about upward mobility, not drama, and the hell if I’m gonna’ let Jaxson pop into my carefully-crafted world and fuck it up.”
Dinah sighed, as if I’d bored the hell out of her and rested her hand on my shoulder. “First of all, Storm, I’m gonna’ need you to slow the hell down and think about this rationally. Do you actually mean to tell me that you expected Jaxson to stop fucking you to answer a damn phone call? Like, you really expected a man – who is obviously digging everything about you – to do that?”
…Yes?
I shuffled in the bed and pulled my hair over my shoulder with a sassy flick.
“Second of all,” Dinah continued, “you have no idea who was on the other end of that phone. It’s not fair for you to compare Jaxson to Evan and you really need to stop.”
“What?” I gasped, shocked by her level of hypocrisy. “You’ve been comparing them all along. You even mentioned how similar their behavior was.”
“You’re right, I did that,” she admitted grudgingly, “but I’m not the one sitting in a hotel room, sexually frustrated because I accused a man of something, for which I have no evidence.”
I huffed.
“Even if Jaxson was Evan, you’ve gotta’ give people room to change and grow. Evan can’t be Evan in every book. Ain’t that part of the character arc process?”
What did Dinah know about character arcs? She was right, but still, what did she know about them?
“Let Evan evolve, Storm. Give him a chance to be something different. Maybe that’s the reason you can’t write anything, because you’re trying to write into a worn-out trope. Yes, he’s searching for The One, but if you make him the same guy he’s been all this time, she won’t want him when he finds her.”
“Okay, you can quit the literary analysis now. Your point has been made.”
A heavy silence dropped onto the bed and, not for the first time, I considered that maybe I’d been unfair and hasty.
Dinah hoisted herself up off the bed and patted the mattress. “Good,” she chirped and she looked at her watch again. “Downtime is done.”
“You call that downtime? I’m still tired as hell, probably even more tired now that we’ve talked about Jaxson’s dishonest ass.”
She narrowed her eyes and ignored me. “We need to get moving,” she said. “I’ve arranged an appointment at the spa for you to get all dolled up for this interview. You’re Simone Storm, the New York Times bestselling erotic romance author. There’s no way you can show up looking tore-up.” She flicked her wrist and marched for the door. “I’ll meet you downstairs in forty-five,” she commanded.