Chapter 12

49K 2.2K 756
                                    

Trying to sleep when your brain won't shut up SUCKS. Have you ever been on the verge of falling into a beautiful, peaceful night of sleep when suddenly your brain betrays you by shouting "HEY, REMEMBER EVERYTHING YOU'VE EVER DONE THAT EMBARRASSED YOU?!?" Yeah, that was my brain at three AM, playing my conversation with Aiden like a freaking broken merry-go-round of shame.

After staring at the ceiling, trying to fight back the mental video of my blush-worthy shame show, I did what I did every time I couldn't sleep. I got up, shuffled to my laptop, picked it up from my dresser, crawled back in bed, burrowed under the covers like a bear ready to hibernate, and waited with blurry eyes for the laptop to boot up.

I put on my glasses, falling into "writer mode" as the computer screen came into clear view, and pulled up the newest book I was working on. It was a brand new series about the vampire mafia who had an ancient rivalry with the siren territory, who continued to lure away the vampire's prey. But when a vampire saves a siren's life, the lines are blurred between the two groups and things go from black and white to very complicated.

There is something beautiful about writing in the middle of the night. The world is silent, you miss nothing and the long shadows free your mind from doubt and fear, setting your mind free to write with passion and zero ability to second guess yourself. You are too tired to wonder with more than a passing thought if your story is crap. That is a problem for the version of you that will read it in the morning. The night version of writing is far more relaxing and is basically a glorified angst release. Allowing a place for you to have a 'dear diary' writing sprint with an "I am working" filter thrown on. Ah, writing bliss.

After angry writing for two hours, I felt much better and was now too wired to go back to sleep. So I took a shower, attempting not to think about how I was getting ready to start my day at five am for the second day in a row, changed into a sweatshirt, and a pair of shorts before heading to the door.

Pulling on my converse, I opened the door and was half relieved and half disappointed that Aiden wasn't hovering outside. Taking advantage of my sudden luck, I locked the door and headed down to my car parked on the street. As I reached my car, a black car pulled up next to me. "Laliana?" a voice called from the car.

Slipping my car keys in between my fingers to use as a weapon, I tried to decide if I should run back to my apartment or make a run to my car. HOW DOES EVERYONE KNOW WHERE I AM?!?

The window of the black car rolled down to reveal a young man with dark brown hair and green eyes. He looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place him. "Umm... can I help you?" I asked making sure my car was between me and this boy with a bright smile, far too bright considering it was five-thirty in the morning.

"Yeah, I'm Tate," he replied with a genuinely charming smile that nearly made me smile back. He waited for me to connect the dots, but when I pushed my glasses up out of my way and rubbed my eyes in response, he laughed. "I'm the bodyguard on the nightshift."

I raised a brow. "What?"

He laughed. "You know, the non-grumpy Aiden?" When I didn't reply, he continued with a snort. "Of course Aiden didn't tell you. He let me look all creepy rolling up next to you." He swore and shook his head, amused. "Here, I'll prove it."

He held up his phone and punched in several numbers. A moment later my phone rang with the caller name being... Random Number Aiden Gave Me. I looked from my phone to Random Number guy and smiled. "Okay, this makes more sense now."

He leaned over and looked at my phone screen. "Wow, Random Number..." he smiled with a shrug. "Not the worst thing I've been called, I'll take it."

The Author and Her BodyguardWhere stories live. Discover now