Total pages in book: 244
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
Especially at night, under the covers. Or in the morning, in the shower. Or during the afternoons, on the couch.
Like I said, dirty fairy tale.
We might move into a bigger apartment since Oscar and Wilde take up a lot of space. Our two rescue cats have big personalities. They parade across the kitchen counter, knocking mugs to the floor, strut on our bureau, swatting picture frames, and curl up on the windowsill, demanding belly rubs.
Also, they’re perverts because they like to watch us screw.
They recently took ownership of my box of books from my publisher when the copies of Look Me Up arrived. But hey, that’s great social media fodder for The Real FoxMan. We changed the name of our Instagram handle for obvious reasons. The Real FoxMan is better than a couple name that sounds like cigarettes and pork.
Living together feels full circle in the best of ways. That’s how our romance started, but now we have a king-size bed, and neither one of us is moving across an ocean. Sure, Jude is on location from time to time. He shot a film in Vancouver recently with Carrie Winslow and Sebastian Lowe. He loved working with the two of them and told me stories every night when he’d return to his hotel room, exhausted but creatively satisfied from the day.
But he’s in Manhattan a lot too, especially since Unfinished Business was a hit, and he just completed shooting the second season.
When he’s in town, we make the most of our time together—both alone and with our friends and family. Jude’s become a huge baseball fan, so we go to Cougars games when Chance plays in New York. The first time I took him to a game, we went out to dinner after with my brother and his wife. After everyone ordered, my boyfriend turned to Sierra and said, “We scored, didn’t we?”
“We sure did,” she said.
My guy and I spend lots of time with our friends in New York. We go to clubs with Olivia and her girlfriend, Amelia. Occasionally, they try to drag me to a musical, but I do my best to resist. Jude keeps threatening to perform in a musical someday, insisting that’s how I’ll fall in love with the genre.
He’s probably not wrong, but I’ll believe that when it happens.
We also love to people-watch at bars with Ellie, where we play the name game, go to pinball arcades with Luke, and on runs on the High Line with Nolan.
When Jason was visiting the other week, we took him out for a few rounds of ping-pong, and he caught us up on all the details of his life in San Francisco. His love life has become a little more complicated since a guy he knew returned to the city by the bay. That guy just happens to be the quarterback for Jason’s rival team. “And Beck just made me one hell of a proposition,” Jason told us.
But that’s a story for another time.
For now, I’m focused on Jude as we travel to the city where we fell in love once upon a time.
The first night in London is ripped from the pages of one of my books. We go to a music club, check out a band, and make out on the dance floor. I still don’t dance, but I can kiss like a badass motherfucker.
At our hotel, we strip each other naked and indulge in, well, everything.
The next day, he comes to my event at An Open Book. The bookstore is packed. We’re talking standing room only and a line out the door.
Is this my life?
Yes, it is, and I love it.
I settle in at the podium, adjust the mic and read the first line of my new book.
I’ve been having this recurring dirty daydream.
Then I read the rest of the prologue of Look Me Up.
When I’m done, I take questions, and as the event winds down, someone in the crowd shoots up her hand. I can’t see her at first, but then she stands—purple hair, a kind smile, and a twinkle in her eyes.
“Just a few questions, love.”
“Hit me up,” I say, grinning as Helen’s friendly face comes into view.
“In Look Me Up, there was mention of a squeaking laundry room door. Did you ever fix the laundry room door?”
I laugh. “I sure did.”
I fixed it the weekend Jude returned to New York.
“Another question. I rather enjoyed your antagonist. Dane Donovan. Will we see him in a future book?”
“You never know,” I say. Hazel and I may write a book together.
The two of us would have a blast continuing the foibles of Dane Donovan in make-believe. The real-life guy he’s based on still hasn’t pubbed The Man and His Main Squeeze, nor have I heard a peep about it on his social media. Some guys just don’t have the stamina to go all the way.