Page 2 of The Last Love Story (Baker Girls #3)

CHAPTER TWO

JADE

I wheeze for a breath as I snort-laugh into my wineglass.

It’s possible I’ve had too much to drink.

My friends, Zoey and Trish, are doing the exact same thing, though. So either we’ve all had too much to drink or I should open another bottle because we’re still coherent enough to tell stories that make us laugh like hyenas.

Zoey’s was something about her douche-husband. No. Ex-douche. No. Her ex-husband who is a flaming douche. With all the bells and whistles, including misogyny and homophobia.

I never really met him other than in passing, but the way she describes him paints the only picture I need. That tracks, though, since like me, Zoey is also a romance author.

We were lucky enough to connect when a bookstore had a signing for local authors a few years back. She lives in the neighboring town of Lacy Creek, which is slightly bigger than my tiny two-stoplight town of Woods Junction .

It’s an adorable little town, and the inspiration for the towns in many of my stories.

I glance at my phone, then resist the urge to check on my sales and how much money I’ve made today.

I’m trying to break the habit of checking daily now that I have a more consistent success and income level, but it’s hard not to.

It took years and my backlist grew a lot faster than my income, but I’ve found better ways to promote my niche stories lately, and over the last year am making a full-time income, but barely.

Once I factor in paying for my own health insurance and all my business costs, I’m still low income, but I’m so much happier than I was when I was working full or part time doing anything else.

It’s just trickier to invest in my business how I want to right now, but I’m hoping as I continue to grow, it’ll get easier.

I pull my hand back. I’m not going to check. But then my phone goes off, and… was it listening?

I snag it off the table, but what I find is not some magical report on my sales, but a bunch of social media notifications. I go to swipe them all away, but freeze with my thumb above one of the notifications.

“Oh my god,” I squeak.

Zoey and Trish are immediately at attention.

“What is it?” Zoey asks. “Did someone tag you in something mean? I’ll cut them.”

I laugh at that, but it comes out more nervous than playful. “No. It’s, ah… Justin Ayers followed me.”

Trish drops her phone. “Justin Ayers. Like the super-hot cover model and new favorite romance narrator?”

“Yep.”

“Well, was it a follow back? Like you followed him? He might like supporting authors.”

He has over three hundred thousand followers. Somehow, I doubt he follows back every author who follows him. Plus… “I’m not following him. ”

Trish’s brows fly up. “You’re not? But why? I know you love at least five books he’s narrated.”

“Yes, but I don’t… know him.”

Zoey laughs a little at this. She gets it more than Trish does. Sometimes you choose not to follow certain people because you don’t want to look like you’re desperate or trying to get something or another fangirl.

Or, in my case, because I might have a stupid parasocial crush on him.

It’s totally ridiculous. We’ve never met.

The only reason I have a crush on him is because his voice makes me melt.

Sure, he’s hot too. Tall, blond, and ripped with stunning blue eyes.

But that’s not what really matters. Either way, it’s ridiculous.

Having a crush on someone you don’t actually know is a recipe for disaster.

For all I know, he might be a total asshole in real life.

I don’t actually know him. So I didn’t follow him.

Trish leans in, whispering like the walls might have ears.

“Wait. Do you actually know Pedro Pascal and Taylor Swift? Have you been holding out on us?” She gives me a mischievous smirk.

While she can pretend to be the idiot, she’s probably the smartest of the three of us.

She works as a college librarian and is all brainy bookworm with the looks of a model. Some people are truly blessed.

No.

Being thin is not the ideal body shape, no matter what the world says.

Trish is gorgeous, but so is Zoey, who, like me, is curvy or plus size or fat or whatever the correct term is—whatever one is used to make people comfy or that was once bad and we’ve taken back.

I’m the biggest of the three of us, and though I’d like to say I never think about that, I obviously do.

It’s not that I want to. I’m working on healing from my body image issues, and I’ve come a long way.

For the first time in my life, I have a lot of peace about my body and truly see myself as beautiful.

But that doesn’t stop the negative thoughts from filtering in, and sometimes I have to sit with them for a few minutes before I can shut them down and move on .

It’s an old habit to assume anyone who looks pretty has it all, when I know well enough that Trish doesn’t. As amazing as she is, she’s a real human, and I don’t want to give in to the comparison shit, especially with my friends.

Okay, mini meltdown over.

“Should I follow him back now?”

“Do you want to?” Zoey asks.

I wanted to before, but again, I didn’t want to do the parasocial creepy crush thing. But if he followed me first, that negates it, right? I’m following back because I enjoy his work and he followed me. We’re in the same industry, we can support each other.

“Yes,” I say, then click the button.

And as soon as I do, another notification pops up.

A message. From him. It must have been in my requests.

“Oh my god .”

“What?” Zoey yells, crawling over the couch to me.

“He sent me a message.”

“Open it!” Trish shrieks.

I quickly go to his profile, double checking it’s not a scam.

No. It’s really him. Which means… Justin Ayers really sent me a message.

Okay, be cool.

Navigating over to my messages, I open them and find several in a row from Justin.

Justin Ayers: Hey, Jade. This might come off totally random, but I’m reading your Mariano Family series, and I’m…

a little obsessed. With your writing. Not trying to be pervy in your inbox, I swear.

I just wanted to tell you how amazing it is.

I know I’m falling into your world ass backward and there’s a bunch of series I’ll need to catch up on when I finish this one, but once I started, I couldn’t stop.

You’ve got me in a chokehold. I just started the seventh book, and I’m just curious how far you are on the eighth?

Justin Ayers: Okay, now I sound creepy again. Let me start over…

Justin Ayers: Hi, Jade. I’ve become a huge fan of your writing, and I know how hard this industry is, so I just wanted to let you know that. I can’t wait to read more.

Justin Ayers: Does your fan club have a president? Because I volunteer as tribute.

Justin Ayers: And now that I’ve thoroughly embarrassed myself, I’m going to go. Feel free to message me back… if this doesn’t make you block me. Okay. Bye.

I blink at my phone in disbelief. That is not what I was expecting.

Trish paws at my leg. “What does it say?”

“He’s reading the Mariano Family series, and he’s loving it.”

Trish squeaks and claps her hands.

“That’s amazing,” Zoey says. “And he should be loving it because that series is incredible. I’m glad I get to read book eight before everyone else,” she teases .

“He asked when it was going to be done… oh my gosh. This is crazy.”

“Maybe you should ask him to narrate it,” Trish says.

“Like I could afford him. And I’m not going to use his love of the series to my advantage. That’s not cool.”

“Fine,” Trish says as I set my phone to the side. “You’re not going to respond to him?”

“Not right now. This is girl time.” Plus, I need to be alone to figure out what to say without the writing and reading devils in my ears. They’d be suggesting I send direct lines from my books.

We’ve definitely had enough wine.

“Let her be,” Zoey says with a laugh.

“As long as we get details,” Trish says.

“You’re nosy,” Zoey says, shoving Trish’s arm.

“Obviously. Have you not met me? Meddling is fun.”

Zoey gives a long-suffering sigh. She’s probably been on the receiving end of that more than anyone.

They’ve been besties since they were kids, and with Trish now engaged to their other friend Mikey, she’s been a little extra pushy about Zoey’s feelings for Mikey’s brother Luke.

Zoey swears up and down they’re just friends, but they definitely aren’t.

It’s fun watching your friends live out real-life romance tropes.

I glance back at my phone. Is there a romance trope waiting for me?

Nope. I am not going there. Not at all.

There’s a loud knock on my door, and Trish grabs her phone. “Must be the warden.”

“I can hear you,” Mikey says through the door.

We dissolve into a fit of giggles, and Mikey swings the door open. Scanning the coffee table, he sighs. “How much wine have you had?”

I shrug innocently. “Those were empty when we got here. It’s magic.”

“Uh huh. Good thing I brought reinforcements.” Then Luke walks in behind him, all long-ish hair and tattoos. Zoey practically purrs when she sees him. But sure, no feelings there.

“Have they been getting into trouble?”

“We’re innocent angels, thank you ,” Zoey says to Luke.

The predatory smile on his face is downright indecent.

Mikey glances at me, as if thanking me now for getting them a little tipsy, like he hopes that’ll push Zoey and Luke over the edge.

I shake my head and climb off the couch, then make sure Trish and Zoey have everything.

Mikey wraps a big arm around Trish and guides her out the door. Luke looks at Zoey. “You okay to walk by yourself?”

“Yes. I’m a big girl. I’m fine.”

But I don’t miss the way she leans into his hand on her back as I shut and lock the door behind them.

My eyes are heavy, and I’m surprisingly relaxed, if a little energized after reading that message from Justin.

Grabbing my water bottle and phone, I switch off the lights, then head down the hall of my apartment to my bedroom.

Once I’ve washed my face, brushed my teeth, and put on my comfiest sleep clothes, I crawl into my bed and use the app on my phone to turn the air conditioner down another degree. I’d rather sleep cold than hot.

Then, because I can’t help myself, I grab my phone and open those messages from Justin again.

Me: Thanks for your message. It always feels amazing when someone says they love my books. For the record, I’m a fan of yours too. And sorry, the fan club president position is taken by a rabid reader friend, but I can see if she’s willing to have a co-president .

Justin Ayers: I’ll get pom-poms and be your cheerleader. I’m just happy to shout about your books. Which I’ll be doing the second I finish this book. Which will probably be tonight because I have no chill.

Me: I love that for you, though you might hate that for yourself in the morning! I’ve stayed up late bingeing books a few too many times. It always hurts the next day.

Justin Ayers: But the pain is worth it. Especially for this. I NEED to know what happens with Colby and Jess.

I send him one of those emojis that convey an uh-oh vibe. Because it’s possible that’s what this book’s cliffhanger revolves around.

Justin Ayers: You’re killing me! Now I have to finish it. I need to know what happens.

Me: If you survive the night, feel free to message me in the morning and tell me your feelings.

Justin Ayers: You’re leaving me to face this alone?

Me: I don’t know where you are, but it’s almost midnight here. I like sleep. But feel free to rage message me. I won’t see it until the morning anyway.

Justin Ayers: You’re mean. That’s mean.

Me: You chose your path. Now you have to live with it. Have a good night.

Justin Ayers: Somehow I get the feeling… I’m going to be in pain.

Me: Don’t say I didn’t warn you…

Me: [Taylor Swift Blank Space Gif]

Justin Ayers: Is this going to hurt more or less than the ATWTMV?

Me: Ha! I’m not sure, but I would highly suggest that song as a reading companion. Good night!

Justin Ayers: Enjoy sleeping peacefully while I suffer.

Me: Gotta be up early for my tea with the devil. Sweet dreams!

I laugh as I put my phone in do not disturb mode and turn out the light.

Maybe it’s a good thing he messaged me. Now I can get to know the real person, and hopefully my unrealistic crush will fade.