“Let me guess.” I skim ahead on the document. “He kisses her thighs, blah blah blah, she wants it, but then he pulls away at the last second. Or the phone rings. Or there’s a sudden knock on the door.”
She scoffs. “So?”
“So, get to it already.”
“It’s a slow burn!” she argues. “It’s supposed to be like that.”
“Well, it’s boring. Derrick should have torn her up ten chapters ago. Rewrite it.”
Melanie takes a second, her eyes looking upward at the ceiling as she lets the critique sink in. “Okay, how about I leave it as is—”
I snore loudly.
“But I cut out the subplot involving her roommate and move the forced orgasm up a scene or two?” she asks.
I halt my snore. “Forced orgasm?”
Melanie nods.
“When is that?” I ask.
“Chapter 25.”
“No, I mean between us.” I smirk. “Because my schedule today is open.”
She slaps my shoulder. “I’ll move it up to chapter 18. Compromise?”
I glance at the manuscript and nod. “Deleting that roommate subplot will help.”
She stretches her arms over her head and yawns. “Okay...”
“But save it in case we figure out how to tie it into the theme.”
I scroll back to where I was in the manuscript and start skimming again. After a moment, I feel the tickle of her eyes still locked on me. I look up and she half-smiles, her expression light beneath the afternoon sun coming in from the windows behind us.
“What?” I ask her.
Melanie shakes her head. “Nothing.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” She chuckles. “This is fun, that’s all.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“I don’t remember the last time we had a good argument about theme.”
“Oh, I do,” I say. “You threw a knife at my head.”
Her jaw drops. “I did not!”
“Yes, you did!”
“It wasn’t a knife.”
“It was metal and sharp.”
“Don’t be dramatic.” Her lips twitch. “It was a nail file.”
“It drew blood.”
“I think a few drops of blood is a minor price to pay for an air-tight theme.”
“And I think,” I set my laptop aside as I shift toward her, “that someone—”
“Rob.”
“Owes me—”
She giggles. “Don’t—”
“A few drops of blood.”
“I have a deadline!”
I playfully sink my teeth into her neck without breaking skin. She writhes in my arms, giggling louder with each sloppy kiss I give her. I crush my mouth on hers and she goes quiet, our lips blending with warm, silent kisses. My heart pounds, pumping blood south, but I ignore the throbbing urge building in me to take her. I can hardly believe it myself, but I don’t want sex right now. I want her laughter. Her voice. The soft sounds of her fingers tapping keys while she works. I want quiet afternoons just like this one until we die of old age a few minutes apart holding hands.
Melanie hums as she strokes my cheek. “You know what we need?” she asks. “Some coffee.”
I grunt. “You read my mind.”
She slides out from under me and stands up. “Iced vanilla macchiato?” she asks with a smile as she grabs her purse.
I swoon. “You remembered.”
“How could I forget?” she teases.
“Want me to go with you?” I ask.
“No, you read. I’m not kidding about that deadline. If I don’t have this manuscript to Deb before she’s off for the holidays, she’ll have my ass.”
I give her a thumbs up as I grab my laptop. “I will continue reading, then.”
“Thank you.”
“But tonight... we should talk.”
She pauses with one arm inside her coat. “About what?” she asks, nervous.
I feign offense. “Forced orgasms, woman.”
Her eyes roll. “Okay.”
“They sound fun.”
“I’ll be back soon.”
She walks out into the hall and closes the door, leaving me to get back to work.
Derrick took his time. He’d never tasted a woman as sweet as Cady and he would relish every moment. He kissed her thighs. He pursed his lips and blew cool air along her most sensitive—
Knock, knock.
I set the laptop down, a little disappointed that the good stuff has once again been interrupted. Poor Derrick and Cady will never get it on.
I peek through the peephole to see who knocked, recognizing Melanie’s father, Glenn, grinning in the hallway.
I open the door for him and his face twitches in surprise.
“Hey, Glenn,” I greet, shifting to the side to let him in.
“Robbie?” He steps inside with a few broken down cardboard boxes pinched under his arm. “What are you doing here?”
“Um…” I pause, realizing how suspicious it must be for me to be in his daughter’s apartment. “I’m just—”
He sets the boxes down by the door. “You and Mel back together again?” he asks.
“Oh, no!” I wave a hand. “No, no, no. I’m just here helping her with her new book. She asked me to look over it before she sent it off to her agent.”
“I see.”
“She’s on a coffee run but she’ll be back in a minute if you want to wait.”
“I would, but I’m just dropping these off for her.” He chuckles as he glances around the apartment. “With all the junk she has, she’s got to start packing up now, I suppose.”
“Packing?” I ask.
“For the big move to New York!” he answers. “But I’m sure she told you all about that by now.”
No. She definitely hasn’t.
“Right, yeah.” I nod slowly. “New York. She told me all about that.”
“Well, I’ve got to get home and get packed myself. Francie and I board that cruise tonight. You won’t see us again until after New Year’s and then we have big plans for Valentine’s!”
I chuckle. “You guys have fun. I’ll tell Melanie you stopped by.”
“Thanks. Good to see you, Rob.”
“You, too.”
He leaves, but I don’t move an inch for I’m not sure how long.
Melanie is moving to New York?
Since fucking when?
I plop back down on the couch. I stare at the boxes leaning against the wall. I try to focus on the manuscript, but I just end up glaring at the same words for far too long until they become nonsensical black shapes.
Why hasn’t Melanie mentioned this yet?
The door opens, and she walks in with a brown drink carrier in one hand. “I’m
