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“And?”
“And I didn’t write it,” I stressed.
“That’s silly. Stories don’t write themselves.”
I threw up my hands, already irritated with this conversation. “Gee, thank you for explaining that to me. I’m so glad you walked into my office to mansplain how stories are written.”
“Hey, you’re the one imagining that stories are writing themselves.”
“I did not say that. I said I was talking to you and when I?—”
I stopped and thought about it. That was odd timing. First, the words deleted themselves. Then, the story actually rewrote itself. It was as if someone was connected to me online.
Or in my story.
Was that possible? The only person who had a stake greater than me was Rob, and he’d already made his thoughts on the matter perfectly clear. Sitting down, I scrolled back to the interview and reread it.
Rob: That’s what you think. Just wait. This isn’t over. You think you can control this, but you have no idea the can of worms you just opened.
Giulia: I have complete control. I wrote it.
Rob: You may have written it, but I’m taking over now. I’m done living this half-life. Every other character has gotten to have sex but me!
Giulia: I think I just wrote that you have sex.
Rob: Off the page! When do I get my moment to shine?
Giulia: Rob?—
Rob: No. I refuse to go out this way. This means war.
I spun from side to side in my chair, repeating the words over and over again. “This means war.”
It was insane. Literally insane. Characters were in my head. They didn’t have the ability to fight back. Yet, somehow, my words were being replaced as I wrote them. How was that even possible?
But before I dove too far down the rabbit hole, I needed to be sure I wasn’t actually crazy.
Bullets flew outside and I dove for Maude…
I smirked, waiting to see what he had to say about that. As expected, the words disappeared.
I sank inside her and called out her name. “Penelope!”
“Penelope,” I huffed. “Like Rob could ever get a woman named Penelope.” I cracked my knuckles and went for it again.
She ran her hand over my thick cock and looked up at me with those doe eyes. “If only you were bigger.”
“I thought size didn’t matter?” I said, feeling a little hurt.
“Baby, it shouldn’t, but it takes a long time to get to China in a row boat.”
“Ha! Take that, sucker!”
I sat back and waited for his response. I knew he wouldn’t like that one. The words quickly disappeared, and as expected, new ones replaced them.
“We both know I’m more of a cruise liner, Giulia. Write it the way it should be.”
“Not a chance,” I typed back.