UnWritten Read online

  Just as I thought about Drake, his father texted me.

  Have any packages arrived at your flat lately?

  Despite the grim circumstances, I smiled at the text.

  Yes, some handsome fellow sent me some lovely books. Thank you so much.

  His response was quick.

  You’re most welcome, Blair.

  “Hey, who are you texting?” Raine said, leaning over my shoulder.

  “Declan. I should probably tell him about the fire. But that seems like a weird thing to text. Should I call him?” I hated that I sounded like one of those indecisive girls. So I called him.

  He didn’t pick up and the call went to voicemail.

  “Hey, Declan. I wasn’t sure if I should call, but I just wanted to let you know that there was a fire at the library. I don’t know how serious it is, but I’m fine and so is everyone else. So yeah. I just wanted to tell you that because I won’t be at the library until they can get everything fixed again. So if you come here, I won’t be here. Obviously. So yeah. Just, um, call me later. And thanks again for the books. They were perfect.” I thought it was good to end on a high note.

  “You okay, babe?” Raine said, rubbing my arms.

  “Yeah, I think I just wanna go home.” I’d done all I could do at the library today. I said goodbye to Madeline and told her to call me if she needed anything, or if there were any changes. We agreed to meet the following day at eleven to do the walkthrough.

  Raine and I got takeout and brought it home, eating it on the floor. We had way too many throw pillows, so we placed them all over the floor to make a mattress.

  “So what are you going to wear for your date?” she asked, mid chew.

  “Um, I’m not sure. I think pants this time, although the dress did work in my favor. But if we’re going to be walking through a field again, I’d like to have pants.” I grabbed for the box of sweet and sour pork and nabbed a piece with my chopsticks.

  “I feel you. If you need any fashion help, you know where to find me.”

  “I do.”

  “So, what are you going to do until the library is fixed?” she said.

  “Other than write? No idea. It’s kind of stressful to think about, but I guess if I ever left to write full-time this would be what it was like, you know?” For my entire life, I’d been in school, or I’d been working, so having entire days to myself would be completely weird. And also kind of freeing.

  “I can’t wait. Seriously. My whole life is going to change when I can write full-time. I’ll sleep late and I’ll never be cranky because I’ve been woken up too early, I won’t have to deal with rotten customers and I’ll be responsible for myself,” she said with a dreamy sigh. It did sound good when she said it, but my job was different. I loved it and I couldn’t see myself leaving anytime soon.

  “Anywho, I hope you get a lot done. And this way, you can constantly text me cute cat videos to get me through the day. Oh, and you can totally make me lunch. It’ll be like having a wife. A super-hot wife.” She nudged my foot with her shoulder.

  “I’m not putting out,” I said.

  “Well, that’s just not fair.” We smiled at each other and I felt a little of the stress about the fire loosen. Raine always knew how to make me feel better, even in the worst situations.

  My phone rang, and I squealed when I saw it was Declan.

  “I did not just make that sound. Forget that it happened,” I said as I answered it. Raine made a cross with her hands over her chest.

  “Hey,” I said, trying to make my voice all seductive.

  “Hello, love. Are you all right? I got your message. That’s just tragic about the library.”

  “I know, I know. I think I’m still in shock. I’m just glad it didn’t happen when someone was there.” I stood up and walked to my room so I could talk to him without Raine eavesdropping. Then I gave him the lowdown on the fire situation.

  “Sorry that’s not really good romantic conversation talk.”

  “Don’t worry, Blair. I’m just pleased you’re safe.”

  “I’m fine. But I have no idea what we’re going to do. I mean, we have insurance, but replacing all those books is not going to be easy.” Thinking about it made my head hurt.

  I changed the topic and chatted a little bit longer with Declan until I heard a little voice in the background.

  “I apologize. Drake had a nightmare and I have to go read to him so he’ll go back to sleep,” he said.

  Aw. “Oh, no, it’s fine. Go do what you have to do. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Goodnight, Blair.”

  “Goodnight, Declan.”

  My heart almost stopped when we walked through the library on Thursday. The front was mostly unharmed, but a lot of the books had water damage. And the children’s room? It was almost completely destroyed.

  I couldn’t stop the tears from falling from my eyes as I walked through the ashes of the formerly beautiful room.

  I’d had to wear plastic bags over my shoes and a mask so I didn’t breathe in ash.

  “We think the fire started here,” the investigator said, pointing to a bucket that people used to put out their cigarette butts. I didn’t know how he’d come to that conclusion, but he seemed to know what he was doing. Madeline squeezed my hand as tears glistened in her eyes.

  “We’ll rebuild. We can do this.” She seemed confident, but I wasn’t sure. Libraries weren’t exactly rolling in money, and we barely had enough to maintain the building, pay the bills and employees with just a little left over. But the wheels in Madeline’s head were turning and I knew that the next few days were going to be spent planning a lavish fund-raising gala.

  After I left the library, I took my time getting back home. I got groceries, filled my car with gas and checked my post office box.

  The apartment was too quiet in the middle of the day and it felt wrong to be there, especially without Raine.

  I did mindless chores and turned the television on so it seemed like there was another person with me. I even took down all the curtains and washed them, which I couldn’t remember doing, ever.

  I thought about texting Declan, but I didn’t want to seem too needy. He had a job and things to do during the day. I also had things to do. Namely writing.

  I fired up my laptop and read over what Raine and I had worked on the last time we’d written. The Dixon revelation had changed the entire story. It was darker now, more intense. I loved it. We usually wrote more fluffy romances, but this was something different and I had the feeling our fans were going to love it too. Or else they’d hate it and it would be lambasted in reviews and we’d never get a book contract again. It could only go one of two ways.

  I was just getting into my groove when my phone buzzed. I should have shut it off, but I didn’t want to miss a call from Madeline.

  Thinking of you. The message was from Declan. Those three words made my heart race.

  Are you busy? I wasn’t sure how to respond.

  Maybe. Why do you ask?

  His reply was quick. Talented fingers.

  Because I was hoping that I could see you.

  A smile spread itself across my face. I was a hot mess, and I had my writing clothes on, but I could change and get presentable in the time it took him to get here.

  I think that could be arranged. I’m at home. I got up and pulled the elastic out of my hair. I should probably at least brush it before he showed up.

  Good.

  I was about to respond, but there was a knock at the door. Probably the UPS guy bringing a package. Raine and I had a tendency to online shop when we were procrastinating.

  I opened the door, prepared to receive said package. But it wasn’t the UPS guy.

  It was Declan.

  “Oh my God,” I said, nearly dropping my phone.

  “I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d stop by.” He pulled another book from behind his back. White Oleander. I wondered when he’d run out of flower-themed books. Not for a l
ong time, I hoped.

  I took the book and ran my hand through my uncombed hair.

  “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting anyone other than the UPS guy, so I’m not exactly date ready.” Why, oh why had he come when I looked like ass?

  “What are you talking about? You look gorgeous.” I let him in and he gave me a kiss on the cheek. So proper.

  “You’re just trying to get in my yoga pants, aren’t you? Do they turn you on?” I was joking, but from the way he looked at me, apparently yoga pants were an aphrodisiac.

  “That’s not my only reason for visiting, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you.” Same here. I decided that jumping him wasn’t the best move, so I distracted myself from my lustful thoughts by giving him a tour, skipping over my desk and closing my laptop when he looked at something on the wall.

  “What’s this?” he said, pointing to a stack of printed out pages that Raine had been editing. It helped us get a new perspective on the words if we edited on paper.

  “Oh, Raine’s, um, taking this class and she had to write a paper or something. You couldn’t pay me to go back to school, am I right?” I tried to laugh it off and lead him away from potentially discovering my secret.

  “Oh, crap, I forgot you were in college. Stet what I just said.”

  “Stet?” he asked, moving away from the desk.

  “It’s an editing term. Means ‘forget what I just did and keep it the way it was.’ So forget what I just said and pretend I never said it.” God, I needed to get things back on track.

  “Said what?” He threw a smile over his shoulder as he walked around the living room. I panicked, because we had a few of our books on the shelves.

  “Exactly. Hey, do you want something to drink?” I needed to draw him away from the books. Away. Maybe I could flash my boobs. That would certainly distract him.

  “Ah, water is fine.” His eyes skimmed the room, and I knew I was being inspected.

  “It’s not as clean as it should be,” I said, standing in front of the sink full of dishes.

  “Have you ever noticed that people say that, but really, their place is spotless? Everyone likes to pretend they’re cleaner than they actually are,” he said.

  I shook my head at how right he was.

  “Okay, so this is cleaner than it usually is. Man, you have a bullshit detector, don’t you? Is that a British thing?” He came over and took the glass of water from my hand and sipping it, licked the excess water from his lips. Sexy as hell.

  “Yes. And if you idiots hadn’t decided you were too good for the monarchy, you’d have it too.”

  I glared at him. “Damn Brits. Hoarding your knowledge and tea.”

  “You were the ones who threw it in the harbor, so don’t come crying to me.” Feeling a little parched, I poured myself a glass of water and we sipped in silence.

  “So, be honest. You were honest about the clean house. Do I look like crap?” I asked. He drained his glass and set it down on the counter next to me.

  “No. You do not. Unless by crap, you mean beautiful and soft and like I want to take you to the bedroom and never let you leave. Then yes, you look like absolute crap, Blair.”

  His hand stroked the side of my face.

  “Well. If that’s what crap looks like, then I guess I’m cool with looking like it.” He moved closer, placing both hands against the counter, caging me in with his body. But I didn’t feel trapped. Far from it.

  “I like knowing that you didn’t expect me,” he said.

  “Do you?” His proximity sucked the air out of my lungs.

  “Your flatmate is at work?”

  “Yes. Yes. She won’t be back until tonight.” This was happening. I’d always fantasized about a guy who liked me in my sloppy writing attire and still wanted to bang me.

  “So we have some time.”

  “Yup. Lots of time.” His hand drifted down my face to my neck, where my pulse hammered like a drum. I was sure he could see and feel how fast it beat.

  “Are you nervous about having me here?”

  “Yeah. Little bit. I wasn’t prepared for it. I usually reserve the apartment tour for at least the third date. But you jumped the gun, mister.” I tried for playful, but the effect was dulled by my crazy beating heart.

  “I apologize,” he said, sounding not the least bit sorry.

  “Just wait until I show up at your place when you’re not expecting me. Just you wait.”

  “Is that so?” He pressed his body into mine, and I was semi-startled by the hardness in his pants that brushed my stomach.

  “Yes. It is so.” I didn’t even know what I was saying anymore as his face dipped closer and his mouth threatened to collide with mine.

  Desperate to touch him, I rested my hands on his shoulders, remembering how lovely his back had looked in the lamplight of the hotel room. With my scratches and bite marks on it.

  “Shall we make our way to the bedroom?” he asked. That seemed logical, and I tried to remember if my bedroom was ready to entertain in. More likely than not, a pair or two of underwear littered the floor, and I definitely hadn’t made my bed. I mean, what was the point? I was just going to sleep in it again and get it all messed up tonight. Unless I had company, there was no point. But I hadn’t taken surprise company into that equation.

  “As long as you don’t judge it for not being as clean as I would like it to be the first time you saw it.”

  “Well, if it also looks like crap, then I’m sure I’ll be fine with it.”

  He released me and took my hand.

  “Lead the way,” he said.

  There was underwear on the floor, my sheets and blankets were all over the place and there were a bunch of other things out of place that I would have taken care of if I’d known I’d be having a visitor. But I only spared a passing thought to those things before my mind and my body and everything else focused on Declan.

  “You like books,” he observed.

  “A little bit, yeah.” Another occupational hazard of being a writer, especially a successful one. People were always sending you books, and sometimes, they were signed. Raine and I had amassed a large collection, including advance copies of some books that weren’t even published yet. I had a few on my nightstand, waiting to be read so Raine and I could come up with a blurb that would be printed on the final cover. Apparently, our endorsement of a book meant something.

  “I’ve told you that I like a well-read woman. Well-read women tend to know more about a wide range of topics. And you can never be bored with a woman who reads.” His eyes flicked over the titles of the books and then settled back on me.

  “It’s also true of men who read,” I said, and he quirked an eyebrow before putting his hand on my stomach, pushing me back toward the bed. Of course, I stumbled over a pair of underwear and had to lean down and unhook it from my foot.

  “See? This is what you get when you surprise me. My underwear tries to kill me.” I tossed the pair toward my hamper.

  “I’ll save you if it tries again. I read a book about disarming murderous knickers.” A snort of laughter escaped my mouth and I couldn’t help it.

  “Did you just say ‘knickers’?”

  “Why, do you think that’s funny?” he said. I just nodded and tried to swallow more laughter.

  He backed me up again, until the backs of my legs hit the edge of my bed. It was déjà vu from our night at the hotel.

  “I intend to remove your knickers and have them join the other pair.”

  “I’m okay with that,” I said, reaching for his shirt. “I’d also like your knickers to be removed as well.”

  “Would you?” He let me pull his shirt over his head. “Do you work out?” He gave me a look. It was kind of random, but I wanted to know.

  “Sometimes. Most of my workouts are interrupted by Drake and I’d rather spend time with him, to be honest. But yes, I run sometimes. Why do you ask?” I ran my hands up and down his chest, over his stomach and his nipples and over his shoulders.
He wasn’t extremely muscled, but I’d never gone for that look. Who wanted a guy whose head was too small for his body just because he could bench press a car? No thanks, I’ll pass.

  “Because I was curious.” There were still a few red marks, and even small bruises from me. “Oh, and sorry about the biting.”

  “Love, you can bite me all you want.” Okay, that sounded like I’d turned into a vampire. I started to say something else, but he silenced me as he reached for the bottom of my sweatshirt and pulled it over my head, managing to not strangle me with the neck. A valuable skill to have in a man. One who could remove your clothes without injuring you.

  I didn’t have a bra on under my shirt. I usually removed it when I wrote. Bras tended to strangle creativity and were uncomfortable most of the time anyway.

  “Would it be unwise to assume that due to the fact you had nothing on under your top you have nothing on under those pants?” I wished I could say yes, but going commando had never really been my style.

  “Sorry. But I will definitely let you remove them. So, you have that to look forward to.”

  In response, he grabbed the drawstring of my pants and pulled it until it came undone.

  “Uh-uh,” I said, taking the strings from his hands. “Last time I was the first one naked. Not fair.”

  “Oh, you want equal nudity do you?” He started to undo his belt, but I batted his hands away so I could do it myself. Using his belt loops to steer him around, I turned us so he was the one closest to the bed.

  “Taking charge?”

  In response, I undid his belt and pushed his pants and boxers down his legs, crouching down in front of him.

  “There are benefits to you getting naked first,” I said, pulling his shoes and his pants over his feet. “Let me show you.”

  “You’re quite good at this, you know,” he said a little while later, his head propped on his arm as he stared down at me.

  “That’s because I’m a courtesan,” I said, flipping his hair out of his eyes. “I went through extensive training.”

  “How extensive?”