~Joan~
I’d been holed up in my room since morning, my eyes glued to the screen of my laptop as my fingers flew across the keyboard.
Letter after letter turned into words, and words morphed into meaningful sentences. I was writing again.
After weeks of writer’s block, the dam had finally broken, and all it had taken was a late-night moment of bliss with Aaron.
Ideas were flowing now, pouring out so fast I didn’t dare stop. If I had them coming, I might as well write them all down before they slipped away.
As much as I hated to admit it, Aaron had become the muse I’d been searching for. It was baffling how one man could irritate me endlessly while simultaneously sparking my creativity. A mystery I didn’t want to dwell on for too long.
The door creaked open, and soft footsteps padded across the floor. Rhoda.
“Hey. Thought you might need this,” she said, holding out a steaming mug of coffee.
I let myself pause, glancing at the mug before looking up at her. A small smile tugged at my lips.
“Thanks,” I murmured, taking the mug and sipping it slowly. The warmth seeped into me, and I wondered how I’d made it this far into the day without my morning coffee. A miracle, honestly.
She sat down next to me, her gaze drifting to the screen.
“Sex scene?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. I shrugged, and she let out a chuckle.
“Jesus, Jo. After weeks of not writing, this is what finally gets you going?”
I set the mug down, smirking a little.
“What can I say? Inspiration comes in strange ways,” I said, earning an exaggerated groan from her.
“Weren’t you supposed to write a thriller? Horror?” she asked, her tone teasing, though I could see the curiosity in her expression.
I leaned back in my chair, exhaustion creeping up on me. “I don’t know. Something else came to mind.”
Rhoda shook her head, amused. “Joan Madison, writing romance. Never thought I’d see the day.”
I laughed, shaking my head. She straightened up, her brown eyes sparkling with interest.
“Can I read it?” she asked eagerly.
“Nope,” I said, snapping the laptop shut. “You’ll have to wait like everyone else. No spoilers.”
She pouted, but eventually gave up. I stood, stretching out the stiffness in my back and shoulders.
Looking around, I frowned. “Why do I feel like we’re the only ones here?”
Rhoda rolled her eyes. “Aaron’s in the living room, acting like the bodyguard he thinks he is,” she scoffed.
The mention of Aaron sent a rush of memories through me, and I quickly busied myself with adjusting my shirt.
Rhoda’s expression shifted, growing thoughtful. “I heard noises last night,” she said casually.
My heart skipped. “What?”
“You weren’t in bed when I woke up. Where were you?” she asked, her gaze sharpening slightly.
“In the bathroom. I had an upset stomach. That’s probably what you heard,” I said quickly, the lie slipping out effortlessly. Too effortlessly.
She nodded, seeming to accept my excuse, but guilt pricked at me. I was just messing around with Aaron-twice, to be exact. It wasn’t anything serious. No reason to feel guilty. Right?
Except it was her brother we were talking about.
“Thought as much,” she muttered, but before the silence could grow uncomfortable, voices drifted in from the living room. A feminine voice.
Rhoda and I exchanged a look before heading toward the sound.
As far as I knew, there were only three of us in the house. Aaron didn’t strike me as the type to have visitors, and even if he did, I didn’t imagine they’d sound so… feminine and polished.
“What? You’d send me away when I’m already here?”
We stepped into the living room, and I froze.
A stunning woman stood in front of Aaron, a suitcase in hand. She looked like she’d walked straight off the cover of a magazine, with her waist-length brown hair, flawless skin, and perfect posture.
I’d never seen Aaron look so annoyed, but it didn’t make me feel better. If anything, I felt small in comparison to her.
She exuded confidence and elegance, while I stood there in shorts, my hair a mess from hours of writing. It wasn’t a fair comparison, but I still felt the sting.
“Angela?” Rhoda said, stepping forward.
Aaron and the woman turned toward us. Aaron’s face was unreadable, but Angela looked downright annoyed.
It clicked. I’d heard that name before. Rhoda had mentioned her once.
Angela. Aaron’s girlfriend.
The thought hit me like a punch to the gut. My stomach twisted, and I shifted uncomfortably, my thoughts racing.
What the hell was Aaron’s girlfriend doing here?