“Damn, I need to read these books.”

“You do, and who knows, maybe we can act something out?”

Sam cocks an eyebrow. “You brought copies, didn’t you?”

“I did, and I’ll leave them at your apartment when I go back to LA. I have more copies at home. I have a confession, actually.”

“You do?”

I bob my head up and down. “People ask all the time who inspired Marcus, and I give a vague answer every time, but it was you.”

“Me?” Sam echoes, as if he can’t believe it.

“Yes,” I reply and feel my cheeks redden, suddenly flashing back to teenage Chloe, sitting in the woods, dreaming of an alternate life full of adventure. I’ve had a longing in my heart for something else, something bigger than anything around me. Something that would give my life meaning, would put me in the middle of some sort of epic story. I felt like I was born in the wrong life, and I should have been someone brave, someone important, someone unlikely, of course, to battle evil and save the world. “I didn’t mean to, at first,” I go on. “I made up this whole ulterior persona for myself where I was cool and badass, and I had an obsession with vampires. I made up the perfect vampire in my head, and when I started writing him on paper, I just saw you. With fangs.”

I glance at Sam, feeling embarrassed again.

“Sorry if that’s weird.”

“It’s not. I didn’t write a series about you, but whenever someone told me I should settle down and get married, my mind would go to you. You were always the one for me.”

I get an instant tug on my heart and I blink back tears. “Things worked out.”

Sam turns, looking out the window. “Yeah.”

“Coming back to Silver Ridge really did help inspire me to write again, but seeing you helped more. And now that we’re together...” I trail off, stealing a glance at him again. “It’s been the best inspiration yet. No pressure or anything,” I add with a laugh.

“Right. No pressure or anything.” Sam inhales deeply and rests his hand on my thigh again. “There’s a rest stop about fifteen minutes ahead. Pull over and I’ll drive the rest of the way. You can keep having conversations with yourself but not with yourself since they are with characters.”

“Sounds good,” I say with a smile, stealing another look at him. My heart flutters in my chest and I’m glad I ended up bringing my computer, because I’m definitely feeling very inspired tonight.

11

Sam

I grip the steering wheel tightly, taking my eyes off the road for a second to look at Chloe. We’re nearing her dad’s house in Silver Ridge, and she’s asleep with her head turned to the side. I gave her my jacket to use as a blanket, and she looks peaceful despite being asleep sitting up.

Her latest words echo over and over in my head, causing my heart to speed up and a cold sweat to break out along my brow. Telling her my ex is pregnant won’t just break Chloe’s heart, but it will kill her inspiration for her book. I’ve always been a logical person. I take comfort in the rational approach to everything. It makes me a good doctor, and more times than not, I forget not everyone looks at things the way I do. I can see both sides to a problem rather quickly, and can play Devil’s Advocate, trying to understand the reasoning to why someone might do something I don’t agree with.

So why the fuck is a small voice in the back of my head telling me not to tell Chloe what’s going on until I know for sure this child is mine? If there’s a chance it’s not, I want to take it. Once Stacey gets an ultrasound and we see that she’s—hopefully—only carrying one baby, then I can get the paternity test done. I have no idea how long it takes to get the results back, but fuck, I’ll pay extra to have that shit rushed.

And if it’s not my kid, why get Chloe upset? But then what…I’ll just casually bring it up years later? Oh, I forgot to tell you that this chick I used to hook up with told me I got her pregnant. I didn’t think you’d want to know. I shake my head at myself.

The weekend. I want the fucking weekend, because I’m terrified that’s all I get.

I turn off the main road and onto the ill-kept street that leads to the lake. Only people who live along the lake use this road, save for the occasional tourist who took a wrong turn when they were heading for the marina. The houses with lakefront property are expensive, and I know the state of this road is a hot topic for them at any town council meeting. While I don’t like my poor car bumping along loose gravel, it brings back memories of coming down this way as a teenager. I had a Jeep then, and used to take Chloe to and from school along with Rory and my brothers.

Chloe always held herself with such grace. She faced her share of adversity for being different yet refused to tell me who was giving her shit. Mostly because she knew I’d beat the hell out of anyone who so much as looked at her wrong, but because she didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for her. She lived by her mother’s last words to embrace who she was and not let anyone make her second-guess herself. I admired the hell out of her for it then, and looking back now as an adult, it’s even more impressive.

Fuck, I don’t deserve her.

“Mmm,” Chloe groans and sits up. Blinking, she looks out the window. “Oh, we’re almost there.”

“What were you dreaming about? You were moaning in your sleep,” I tease, keeping a straight face.

“I was?” Chloe pulls my jacket down and runs her hand through her hair, pushing it back. She inhales and blinks a few times. “I dreamed I left my laptop out in the woods and didn’t realize it until I got back to my dad’s and it started raining. I was moaning?”

“Yeah, it was really sexual and hot. I had to rub one out while driving.”

She turns, one eyebrow raised. “Hilarious, Sam.”

“Admit it, you’re only dating me for the comedy.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re lucky you’re good in bed.”

“That’s all I’m good for?”

“Yep. And you’ll look good by my side whenever we get photographed and featured on TMZ.”

I laugh, and while I know she’s serious, the concept is still weird to me. I’ve had a totally different connotation of famous people in my head, and Chloe is so down to earth, so easy to talk to and, well, still so Chloe, it’s easy to forget that she’s rich and famous.

“I still think leaking a sex tape is the way to go.”

“I’m sure your boss would just love that,” she shoots right back. “Though I’m not opposed to filming one. On a camera with no Wi-Fi access, that is.” She leans back, wiggling her eyebrows. “Then we can watch it together.”

“Fuck, I love you.”

Yawning, she stretches her arms out and reaches over, resting her hand on my thigh, fingers sweeping over my cock. We’re only a few minutes from her dad’s house and a light rain is starting to mist down on us. It takes all I have not to speed.

“Really?” Chloe scoffs when we pull into the driveway. “Neither my dad nor Wendy left a porch light on. Why not put a sign out that says no one is home, come rob me why don’t you?”