Write Me A Love Story

Chapter Eight:

Do you believe in magic?

*

Reece showed me plotter strategies, but in a way that worked for me. He knew, as well as I did, that plotting a story wouldn't work for me; my weird, strange, writing patterns proved it. Pairing that with the fact that I'd never been able to finish a story from beginning to end set the "Camila cannot plot to save her life," in stone.

Reece said it was obvious I was a pantser, and that was fine. He just felt the need to show me the importance of notes and notebooks. He said, "Take the notes. Even if you don't use them, it'll help paint the picture in your head."

Four hours later, I had ten pages, twelve post it notes, and not quite full bios but enough that I saw Zeke and Cari clearer now. It made me smile. Seeing my characters in my head, hearing their voices; an experience I'd never had to this extent before.

My heart was filled with writing joy. And as Reece held one of my post-its between his fingers, grinning as he read my tiny note, my chest almost exploded. I never thought anyone could like my ideas. Sure Nancy knew I wanted to write, but she never showed interest in reading.

Reece looked enthralled. Was he a fan in the making?

A gentle came to the door before it quietly opened. Both Reece and I looked up with wide eyes. "Excuse me," he said as politely as he could to whoever stood outside but the annoyed frustration was there, "I reserved this room and closed it for a reason."

Dolores' sweet face appeared. She adjusted her face on her face and smiled. "You did," she said, "but we're closing."

My brows shot up. Shit. Were we in the room that long? Hours had passed, yes, but to be closing?

Then two things hit me. One—libraries weren't open all night. And two—Francesca! Covering my mouth, I realized I left for work and came straight here. My poor Queen Frannie had to be pissed.

Reece chuckled beside me, scratching the side of his head. "Oh, man, time passed like that? Sorry, Dolores. We'll get out of here in a minute, I promise."

Dolores tapped on the door with the keys in her hands as she smirked and nodded. "Of course, sweetie. Once you're out I'll lock up."

Reece pressed his hands together and smile. "Love you, Dolores."

"Love you, too, sweetie. Now," she gestured toward our table before walking off and continued, "clean up, please!"

Reece quickly gathered the pens, highlighters, and unused sheets of paper. He neatly placed them on the table on the right. While he did that, I, not as neatly or organized as Reece, scooped up what I'd used and written on. I pushed them into my bag before placing the strap on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry I kept you," I sighed, biting my bottom lip.

"No, no, I wanted to help. I lost track of time." Reece pocketed his phone as he came over to me, right next to the door. "I was hooked on what you had, so I'm the guilty one." He smirked. "It's good stuff."

"Really?" I beamed at him.

He nodded as he opened the door for me. "Yeah, Camila, I like it. Maybe...." He hung back in the room as I moved past him, walking out into the library's space. He closed the door and locked it before catching up to me, looking into my eyes. "Maybe we could grab some food and tea, and we could keep working?"

He pulled his lip between his teeth, then rubbed them together so they glistened in the light. My stomach flipped as I wanted more than anything to know what they felt like on mine. They were full and looked so soft.