I lift my beer to her, taking a big sip.
“So, you’re doing porn now? Where do I sign up?”
She leans forward, her big, fake tits spilling out of her low-cut tank top and I choke on my beer.
“Writing," I manage to say. "I’m publishing a contemporary romance novel in a few months.”
My phone buzzes in my back pocket as Joy’s eyebrow quirks up.
“Need to do any research? You know I’m always game, big guy.”
I laugh, finishing my beer as she pours us each a shot. She takes one herself, giving me a wink as she walks toward the other end of the bar, attending to the other customers.
“When are you gonna let her ride the ‘Italian Stallion’ man? She’s begging for it.”
“Not interested. She’s probably rode many stallions in her day and mine is just one she’s gonna miss out on.”
I look at Cannoli, passed out underneath my feet and my phone buzzes again.
“You’re popular tonight.”
I reach for my phone noticing the DM bubble and I press it, ignoring the hesitation now that I’m a beer and a shot deep.
AuthorJWatson: I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.
AuthorJWatson: Pic for pic?
AuthorJWatson: Any of your scenes phone sex? I’m down to help you get that word count in.
AuthorJWatson: Ignore everything that has been said the last fifteen minutes. My roommate thinks she’s hilarious. I was showering.
I laugh, typing out my reply.
EnzoMorganWrites: Sure. The “I was in the shower” excuse. If you wanted our conversation to steer in this direction all you had to do was ask, Watson.
AuthorJWatson: Don’t make me block you. I deal with enough creeps on a daily basis, please don’t be one of them.
Suddenly, something burns in my stomach at her message. Something unfamiliar as I feel my teeth grind together.
EnzoMorganWrites: What are their handles?
AuthorJWatson: Easy “Italian Stallion”, I can handle myself. I don’t need you to go all Balboa on me. Yes, I creeped on your bio. Who seriously calls themselves the “Italian Stallion”?
The tension between my eyes eases a little as I smirk at her dig.
“Dude, who’s blowing up your phone?”
I shake my head, putting my phone in my back pocket and take a sip out of the new beer in front of me.
“Nobody. Another round?” I ask, motioning for Joy.
Danny nods as Joy comes back, giving us each another shot and I try and put the woman that’s invaded my thoughts to the back of my head, at least for a little while.
A few hours later, I’m beyond buzzed, walking back to my apartment with Cannoli in tow. I open my Instagram account, scrolling through to the message I never answered and press the camera instead.
“So listen, Watson, if that is your real name. If you are the girl from the Dear Raya column, I wanna know. I think the fact that I admit I read the column alone should be proof enough that I am not some perverted, asshole, looking to prey on romance authors. Here I am, Lorenzo Morgan, from the streets of Brooklyn, New York with my trusty sidekick, Cannoli.”
I turn the camera around to face Cannoli and make a kissy noise.
“Reroooo, Watson. My name is Cannoli. Woof!”
I laugh, turning the camera back around and lower my voice.
“Have I mentioned I love your teasers, because I do. I really, really do. Okay, that’s all.”
I send the video’s, knowing full well my sober brain tomorrow will want to kick my drunk brain’s ass, but I push it down and laugh, walking the rest of the way to my apartment.
When I’m inside, I get Cannoli settled, hop back in the shower to rid myself of the stale beer smell and walk to my bedroom. My phone on the nightstand sits there, calling out to me and as if I conjured it up, it buzzes. With a towel around my waist, I walk to it, clicking the messages and almost come in my pants.
She's fucking gorgeous. Bright green eyes, black as night hair and those fucking lips. Shit, those damn lips. Blowjob lips.
“Drunk ‘Italian Stallion’ in the flesh...cute. The dog, not you. We’re not on a drunk video basis yet, but I appreciate the effort. It’s Jenna by the way, and you’re welcome for lightin' the fire under your ass. Bein' from Brooklyn, I’m sure you need it, hipster boy.” Her bottom lip juts out in a puppy dog face and I laugh at her sarcasm. “Anyway, some of us have to adult in the mornin'. Signin' off for now. Enjoy the hangover. Don’t worry, I totally rewatched and recorded your videos and I plan to use them as blackmail in the future. Ciao!”
Her southern accent is adorable yet sexy and I shake my head, dropping down to sit on my bed. There's no way I'm forgetting this girl now.
EnzoMorganWrites: You won't need blackmail. Whatever you want from me, you can have. Any. Damn. Thing, Watson.
She doesn't answer and I don't expect her to. I plug my phone in to charge, and try and get some sleep and escape Jenna Watson. I should have known she'd haunt my dreams.
AuthorJWatson: Morning, drunk boy.
EnzoMorganWrites: Morning, rude girl. How's adulting?
AuthorJWatson: Adulting. When's your book come out?
EnzoMorganWrites: Just finished the first draft. Sitting on it and want to read it one more time before I send to my editor.
AuthorJWatson: Want a beta reader?
EnzoMorganWrites: Volunteering?
AuthorJWatson: You help me, I help you. Want to beta mine?
EnzoMorganWrites: I'm down. Send it my way.
I lay in bed, feeling my body protesting getting up. I'm hungover as fuck, but I have no where to be, so I grab my Kindle when Jenna sends me her book and dive in.
I plow through chapter after chapter, scene after scene until I realize I haven't moved from bed for the past three hours and I'm done. I have no fucking notes on anything because my dick guided the entire process.
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
I reach for my phone, seeing tons of missed calls, texts and messages and ignore them all except one.
AuthorJWatson: If you hate it, just subtly block me and when you don't answer for the day, I'll get the hint.
AuthorJWatson: I was actually kidding about that part. An update would be nice.
AuthorJWatson: I'm being serious, Balboa. Don't make me embarrass the shit out of myself and publish it if it's crap.
AuthorJWatson: Okay, I'm just gonna assume you loved it and you died from pure contentment. It was nice knowing you while it lasted. May you rest in peace.
I laugh, reading through her messages before I turn the camera to selfie mode and start recording.
"First, you're a goof. I wasn't answering because I just binge read the entire fucking thing and haven't moved out of bed since I passed out here last night. You can write. Don't make me blow smoke up your ass. Although if you want something up there, I'm sure we can work on it. Later, Watson."
I give her a wink and send over the video, knowing full well I'm completely naked; she doesn't know that though.
AuthorJWatson: New rule if this daily conversation thing is gonna happen—no naked videos.
EnzoMorganWrites: Well you got a freebie. Do I get one before we implement that rule?
AuthorJWatson: I like to give the gift wrapped. Opening it is half the fun, Balboa.
EnzoMorganWrites: I'm serious about your book, it's fucking amazing. Once all the alcohol seeps out of my pores, I'll read it again as a real beta this time.