Chapter 66

“And you’re a good liar.” He sighed, pulling his hand out of mine. “I guess most writers are.”

“Writing isn’t lying.” I stepped away, a little bruised. “Anyway, good writing isn’t.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just so tired of wondering what’s wrong with me. Why am I still single?”

“What’s wrong with being single? What is this obsession you guys have with pairing up? In my day—”

“In your day? You make it sound like you and Rock Hudson used to hang out.”

“Look, there’s nothing wrong with you. Just relax. Let it happen.”

He was quiet for a moment. He let out a sharp breath. “I have to be at work in twenty minutes. Do you want to come and hang around for a few hours?”

“The club? No way.” I went back to my beer. “I can’t do that anymore.” It was the honest truth. I hated the music. The lights. The smell.

“You’re gonna stay here all night?” He looked around, confused. “You’ll be lonely.”

“I’ll write.”

“Those people aren’t real.”