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I have my favorites to study and my favorites to read for fun. I have books I’d sell my soul to read again for the first time, and books that feel new each time I reread them. I have my favorite book I love to hate, and my favorite book I hate to love.” I’m
“It’s fun and emotionally comforting to know more or less how the story is going to play out. I like knowing what to expect. But I will say that my standards for romantic partners are now impossibly high.”
“Well, Mac, I can say with certainty that one thing not a single soul knows about me is how much I want to kiss you right now.”
“And how long would you want to shadow me? Somewhere around six weeks, maybe?” Daniel winces. “How astute, Mackenzie! Yes, that is exactly how long Mr. Evans has requested to be in the building.
He’s still silently grinning at me. “Why is your face doing that?” I ask, frowning. “You trust me,” he says slyly.
“Someday, Mac, you’re going to realize exactly how much I enjoy staring at you all day.”
“I’d take you on my team any day, Mac.” There’s something about the way he says it that curls my toes.
“That’s the beauty of literature. It makes us feel. Or maybe a better description is that it allows us to feel in a safe space.
I wanted to show you that it’s not. I wanted to show you that you can make even hardened teenagers feel. I’m just a teacher, and I don’t know what your editor or your agent or your publisher look for, but when I’m reading something, I want to feel something, and this story did that for me. You are a good writer, Daniel. Your success is not a fluke. Don’t let the Martys of the world tell you otherwise.”
“But I need you to know, Mackenzie,” the sound of my full name on his lips sends a shiver up my spine, “that I have had flings in my life, and not one of them has gotten stuck in my head like you have. Not one of them has my heart feeling like it has been wrung dry watching how much she cares about people without worrying about what she’s going to get in return. Not one of them feels like she’s an island in the middle of an ocean full of sharks every time I get stuck talking to a bunch of fans, even after ditching me to deal with them. And not one of them has talked about my work the way
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I can assure you there’s nothing about this that feels like a fling to me.”
“Don’t cover yourself. Don’t shrink away. You can say no to me, but don’t for one second think that you need to cower or feel embarrassed. You are fucking beautiful. You are beautiful tonight, and you were beautiful when I scared the shit out of you on your run, and you are beautiful every damn day from the minute you walk into my line of sight until the minute you walk out.”
Let me kiss you.” His plea is barely a whisper,
oh he whimpers
These past few weeks have been an absolute whirlwind, but one thing I know clearly is that I want to be here with you, Mac. With all of you. Even the messy parts.”
With two beds,”
blasphemy
“It doesn’t have to be New York, Mac.”
“Did you know,” I continue, “that as books decompose, the paper releases a chemical compound similar to vanilla, and that’s why old books smell so good?”
“Are you a writer, too? Or another editor?” Patricia asks. I’m not sure what she means by “another editor,” but Daniel jumps in to clarify. “She’s the high school English teacher I’m shadowing out in Leade Park.”
his ex is his editor 🧍🏻♀️
“There’s only one bed. But when I asked, they said it’s the last room they have and there are two beds.”
heheheh
A guttural sound escapes him.
yeah he whimpers
“You’re exquisite,” he breathes, barely audible. “I couldn’t write you if I tried.”
“Yeah, of course.”
ofc he does mac, he’s been waiting for this day
“When someone comes into our lives who sees into our souls in a way Mr. Evans’ manuscript would suggest he saw into yours, we hang on and don’t let go.”
