Page 3 of For the Plot (The Stone Siblings #1)

I grabbed a Gatorade from the fridge, not being big on alcohol—much preferring weed if I wanted a buzz—and made my way to the living room. Will and James nodded hello as I plopped onto the couch next to Collins, laying my head on his shoulder, weaving my arm through his tattoo-covered arm.

“How did your writing session go, NikNak?” Collins asked.

James had started calling me that when he first moved in and found my collection of random knickknacks, and discovered I was a magpie always searching for the shiniest things. The name had then of course been picked up by Will and Collins as well, and it had stuck.

I grunted in response, and Will glanced over with a sympathetic look. “That bad, huh?”

“I’m never going to write again. I may as well just quit now.”

“You could always start selling feet pics.” Collins wiggled his brows at me, light brown hair flopping into his eyes.

I gave him a punch to the arm. “Oh, thank you, how helpful.”

“What? I’m serious!” He held his arms up, swerving my second punch. James and Will finally pulled their attention away from the show to see what all the commotion was.

“Don’t think I won’t fight you just because you’re huge,” I snapped back. A lascivious grin bloomed on his face, and I used my palm to push his face away. “Oh, grow up, I was talking about you being tall and beefy, not your dick. I'm sure it's very average.”

Collins wiggled his eyebrows. “Beefy, am I? I promise, the package matches the rest of the body.”

Will chimed in. “What are you saying about feet pics?”

Before I could respond, Collins told him, “Oh, just that our Nikki here is going to quit writing and start selling feet pics instead.”

“Ooh, OK, a career change, that could be fun.” Will nodded along with a straight face, playing along with Collins. “Bet you I could make more.”

“You both suck. Come on, James, back me up here!”

“Oh definitely, you would make way more money than Will.” James nodded sagely, his hazel eyes barely containing his mirth, before the three of them all looked at each other and burst into laughter.

I huffed in annoyance, and got up to pretend to storm off.

I only got one step before Will grabbed me and pulled me back down, tucking me under his arm between him and Collins.

“Come on, Nikki. For real." His voice took on a more serious tone. “Is there something any of us can do to help you? You still haven’t told us what caused this writer’s block.”

My face heated, and I fiddled with my rings. James chimed in, “Yeah, if you tell us what’s going on, maybe we could help?”

“Uhhh…” I hedged. “It’s nothing specific, this one is just escaping me right now.”

I love all three of my guys, and we talk about a lot of shit.

But telling them that I couldn’t write because someone had called my sex scenes terrible was just way too embarrassing.

They were supportive of me, and not at all weird about the fact that I wrote romance like some men could be, but they weren’t on Bookstagram or BookTok, so luckily they would never see or hear about The Review.

Collins sometimes read romance books, but he was expressly forbidden from reading mine.

I don’t think I could ever look him in the eye again if he read a sex scene I wrote.

“I stared at my computer all day, so I just need a break for right now. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

Will tightened the arm over my shoulder, hugging me to his side, while Collins squeezed my knee.

“We’re here for you, and we have faith in you. You’ll get there eventually,” Collins reassured me.

James leaned around from the other side of Will and patted the top of my head. “Yeah, don’t worry, kid, we’ll find a way to help you.”

I snorted. “I’m literally a month older than you, dumbass.”

“Only in age.”

I burst out laughing. “You are such an idiot.”

“Maybe, but I got you laughing didn’t I?” He smirked, leaning back into the couch. All three of them were absolutely ridiculous, and I wouldn’t trade them for the world.

The four of us settled into the couch, commenting on the action in the sow until James stood up. “Alright, I gotta get to the bar for my shift. I'll see you weirdos tomorrow.”

After he left, we watched another episode of Drag Race . Someone on the show made a sex joke, and Collins suddenly lit up and turned to me. “I’ve got it!” he exclaimed, raising a finger up.

“You’ve got what?”

“The idea to fix your writer’s block!” I raised a brow at him in expectation, and the grin on his face turned evil, “You just need to get laid.”

I laughed, shoving his shoulder. It was more of a running joke in our house, since they all knew I never had, and it never bothered me. It was all in good fun, and I knew if I ever got uncomfortable with it, they'd immediately stop when I told them to.

I outwardly dismissed his joke, but it got me thinking. Could that be the solution to everything?

If I finally had sex, I would know . Maybe being able to translate that experience to the page would help me to actually write a sex scene that wouldn’t get shredded apart online. I'd feel like less of an imposter writing about things I didn’t know.

And there wass also the fact that I wanted to have sex. It just… hadn’t happened for me yet. There was no traumatic past or anything, but the combination of me being a fat, nerdy, awkward girl growing up and being demisexual just hadn’t presented me with a lot of opportunities.

But now? The more I thought about it, the more I thought, what was the harm in trying?

Well, there was a lot of harm that could fall on a woman trying to have sex with a stranger, let’s be real.

But I'm sure there was some way to go about it relatively safely.

And at this point I was desperate and willing to try anything.

With the beginnings of a new plan in motion, I bid the guys farewell and went to my room to change and head out to the bar.

I was doing this.