Write Me A Love Story

Chapter Ten:

Don't be afraid and go for it.

*

After clocking out of work, I made two smart decisions. The first, and most importantly—because I couldn't slip and forger a second time—I went back to my apartment and filled Franny's bowls with enough food to last until dinner. Even an hour or so after, just in case. Of course, she started to eat immediately, even with me telling her, "Queen Franny, chill, please."

When she didn't, I quietly left and started on smart decision number two—having new reading material for Reece. It had me really happy to know he loved my story and how I wrote it.

But I was a little selfish. What if I had more stuff for him to read? Would there be more words of encouragement and motivation? Feeling the praise and seeing his smile while reading my notes and random paragraphs made me want to write more. And this, I knew, was more than him. Was this what writers felt when they shared their work? Without fear? Just basking in the love and support?

This was my first time experiencing it. And I loved it.

So, as I walked over to the library on a cloudy, semi-cool late afternoon, my fingers went to work on the document synced to my phone. I finished a new paragraph by the time I reached the entrance and the library's doors opened for me. When I looked up at the front counter a f my eyes landed on both Dolores and Reece, a smile stretched over my face.

A wider grin spread over his. "Oh, hey." Turning around, he folded his arms against the counter and leaned his weight against it. "You made it."

I quickly glanced down at my phone, making sure I saved the document. Then I smiled back at him. "I did, sorry I'm late."

Chuckling quietly, he shrugged. "I was afraid you wouldn't show."

"Oh, no," I said, approaching the counter. "I had to make sure Franny had food."

"Franny?" Dolores lowered her folder, peering at me from the rim of her glasses. "Who's that?"

"Her cat." Reece turned his grin over to his older co-worker. "Franny the cat."

"You know about the cat?" Dolores asked.

"Oh, yeah. She likes me." When he said it, a smug, handsome, adorable, attractable look covered his face as he looked back at me. What made it better—Dolores' wide eyes and gaping expression. Her gaze bounced between the two of us before she made a sound. She had questions, but the words wouldn't leave her. And Reece took that as his chance.

"All right." He slapped his hands on the counter before stepping out of it. He pointed over his shoulder toward the stairs. "I got us the same quiet room," he said, "if you're ready."

"I'm ready," I beamed, walking around the counter. As we passed it, I made sure to give Dolores a big smile while I mouthed, 'See you later.' She chuckled and shook her head, winking and shaking a finger.

As I followed Reece, I admired his outline. His broad shoulders, intensified by the slim fit of his shirt. I hadn't noticed before, but there was a tattoo peeking out from his sleeves; bold and pointed at a tip. My gaze followed it until I couldn't, then I let my eyes wander. Hands. Fingers pushed into the pocket of his jeans. The slight visibility of his red Hanes boxers.

When we turned up the stairs and made our way up to the second floor, I caught myself following the trail of his cologne like a character from an old cartoon.

"You know," he glanced at me as he headed toward the rooms, "when you didn't show, I thought of texting you to see if you're okay." Nervously, he scratched his head. "Then I realized I never got your number."