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Chapter 9

“Are you hurting? Is anything wrong? What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine—it’s not that—I mean, I don’t exactly look like—you were at that premiere with an arm around your real-life Johnny Muscular Thighs Stone and I’m not a hero—”

“But you’re incredible! And I’m a writer, I’m not anyone’s idea of sexy, and you couldhave anyone, you can do magic—!”

“But I want you,” Sterling said, wide-eyed, “I like you—well, I like everything really, I like fun and I’ll try anything, but I really, really, like you. I like gorgeous genius writers who don’t run away from me even when I sound like a crazy person and instead ask whether I’m okay and want to help—”

“I like you,” Dan interrupted.

The second kiss was even better than the first, mostly because they kept stopping to say “You!” and laugh. The apartment tucked itself around them, stalwart and safe. The books were only books. The rug was just a rug. No traces of ice left. Banished by kisses and giddy aftermath joy