Tryst (20 page)

“Writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.”

—E.L. Doctorow

Sadly, I don’t know who the author who said this quote is or what they write, but when I first read it (thank you, author Julia Crane) it really struck a chord within me. That quote up there ^^^^^^^^yeah
, that one^^^^^^^^ is exactly how I felt when I wrote
Tryst
. I didn’t always know where the story was headed or what the plot should be, but I kept driving, and slowly, I made it home.

Many of you know that
Tryst
is actually coming to you a month late (sorry!) because when I was supposed to be writing, we moved. We didn’t move states again, thank goodness. We actually only moved a few minutes away, but hey, a move is still a move, LOL. So it’s been a crazy month or two for me here.

After I wrote
Tattoo
I started
Tryst
and planned on pounding it out before I moved, but it didn’t really work out that way. Ha-ha. I got really busy and frankly, my brain was fried. So I took several weeks off from writing to move and set up my house. Well, when it came time to sit and write again… it was difficult.

I’m going to let you in on a little writerly secret. For writers, writing is like a drug (
though, I can’t speak for all writers). When you’re writing a book and so in tune with the characters and the plot, you kind of slip away into your own reality. It’s a thrill; it’s a high. You know those guys who make your stomach flop when you read them? Or make you smile and bite your lip while you’re staring at the page? Yeah, those book boys do that to the writers too. It’s like experiencing your first love over and over again. So when you go without that feeling for too long, it’s kind of like going through withdrawal. And for me, the more I wanted to write, the harder it became. I was jonesing for a fix but had nowhere to score one. Something like that messes with your mind. (I never said writers weren’t odd!) You get into a cycle and then you think you can’t write, that you’ve lost your mojo, that you will never get it back!

So yeah, anyway, my point is: starting a new book after taking too much time of
f is hell. I felt like I was floundering in the dark, trying to come up with a good plot. Finally, I told myself to get over it and sit in the chair. I did and the story came.

Talie is one of my favorite female characters. Really. I had a lot of worry about writing this book
almost entirely in just her point of view. I know you guys are used to my books being dual POV. I really debated on whether or not to include Gavin’s voice in the story. But the more I wrote Talie, the more she came to life. The more she shared with me about herself. I know this book is also about Gavin, but when I think of this book, I think of it as Talie’s story. For me, as I was writing, her internal struggle was very profound. For some reason, she really resonated with me. I think maybe she will resonate with a lot of people. I think a lot of women find themselves looking in the mirror one day and realizing their life isn’t what they thought it was. They find themselves unhappy or caring too much what other people think; they try to do what other people think is best. And then one day, they wake up and realize life’s too short for all that.

And yeah, Gavin had a lot of realizations too, and his story actually brought me to tears a couple times, but I decided to leave out his POV. Why? Because I liked the mystery of Gavin. I liked seeing these little glimpses of a broken man
. I liked seeing him make me swoon one second and then make me want to punch him the next. I wanted people to try and figure him out. I wanted people to be propelled through the pages, just wanting to know why he was the way he was. I felt like if I put his voice in the book, then all that would have been lost. You would have known his secrets in the beginning and you would only be reading to see what happened when Talie found out.

If you haven’t figured it out... I love this book. It’s one of those stories that kind of s
ank deep down inside me and planted itself there. It’s not as action-packed as some of my other ones, and no one is trying to kill anyone… yet for me, the story was still so beautiful.

I genuinely hope that
some of you readers out there get even just a little of what I said while you were reading. I hope that some of you enjoyed this book as much as I have.

Another little secret about
Tryst
… Boy, I’m just full of insight and secrets today, aren’t I? Anyway, for months, this book had a different cover. This cover was done way back when the cover for
Tricks
was done. I had bookmarks and swag made. I had T-shirts made too.

And then I changed my mind.

And changed it again.

Then changed it again.

Yes. I’m serious. I’m surprised Regina Wamba of Mae I Design even wants to work with me anymore. Ha-ha-ha-ha.

The original cover is that of just a woman. Her eyes cast downward, blond hair over her shoulder. In all honesty
, the truth of why I didn’t use it is because I was afraid it wasn’t sexy enough. I was afraid people would see the title
Tryst
and then see a woman solo on the book cover and wonder what the hell I was thinking.

I was afraid readers wouldn’t pick it up as readily
, and then they would miss this story.

And so as I sit here typing this just days (literally) before the cover reveal
, my amazing designer is making me another cover. I haven’t seen it yet. I have no doubt it will be awesome. So let’s all send Regina of Mae I Design some good mojo and whisper a little thanks that she is willing to put up with my kooky behavior.

And that goes for Cassie McCown
, my editor, too. She was very flexible to work with me when I needed to push the editing date back and then very flexible when I told her I needed to get this book out to all the people waiting for it.

I think this might be my longest “author’s note” I’ve written. Ha
-ha-ha. Are you still with me? If you are,
Thank You.
Thank you for reading my books, for making them a success. Thank you for waiting so patiently for
Tryst
when I know you were so anxious.

I sincerely hope it was worth the wait.

See you next book!

Cambria

P.S. I forgot to say that the reason Gavin sits around in his underwear and eats snack cakes all day is because that’s what my kids said I should write about. Really. They asked me if I needed inspiration
, and I said yes… That is what they came up with. So there ya go.

Turn the page for a sneak peek of

TRASHY,

the next
Take It Off
novel,

coming June 2014!

Roxie

High school…

The distinct sound of bowling balls cracking against pins reverberated through the entire building, echoing out the door and into the parking lot. We stood by a row of cars while a couple of the people in our group smoked the last of their cigarettes before going in to claim our lane.

I lived in a small town
. Most people probably didn’t even know it was on the map. It was surrounded by mountains and had just as many bars as it did churches. The economy here sucked, and it seemed like the general population was aging. The young people could be broken down into two groups:

1.
Those who got stuck here and never left

a
nd

2.
Those who got out and never came back

The unfortunate people who fell into group one usually worked in jobs they hated for too little pay and grew more
and more bitter as they aged.

I planned on being in group two and getting the hell out of here as soon as I could. Like right after high school. There had to be more out here than this.

I’d worked hard to keep my grades up. I’d kept my nose clean and stayed away from drugs. Two more years and I could bid this town good-bye and start over, hopefully somewhere warmer.

“Can we go in?” I said. “It’s freezing out here.”

January in a tiny town in Maryland was one reason I would never smoke. Who wanted to stand outside in the freezing cold just to get a fix?

“Hey, we’re going in!” Lena yelled
, and we started up the little ramp that led inside. Lena and I had been best friends since middle school when we got randomly sat at the same table. She was outgoing and didn’t seem to mind I wasn’t. We became fast friends and she introduced me to her circle of friends who then, in turn, became my friends too.

Lena was the pretty one. The one who always got sidelong glances from the guys in the hallway. When a school dance was held
, she always had offers, always had a date.

I was sort of invisible beside her.

Okay, people saw me. It wasn’t as if I were a ghost. But I wasn’t really the main attraction. No guy ever looked at me just a little too long because I’d caught his eye. Every guy I’ve ever crushed on thought of me like a sister or didn’t know I existed. I’d never been to a school dance because no one ever asked me.

Yeah, I could go alone.

How pathetic would that be?

I pretended I didn’t want to go. I pretended that school dances just weren’t my thing. But they were my thing. And every time the sweetheart dance or homecoming dance would roll around
, something inside me would shrink just a little because no one thought I would make a good date.

I liked to think I was waiting
, that no other guy would matter until the right one came along. That the guy who noticed me first, the one who stared just a little too long… He was the one who mattered. He was the one who deserved my heart.

Besides, falling in love in this town would just make my plan of getting the hell out even harder. I wanted love
. I wanted to see that look in someone’s eye. You know, the look where you are their entire world.

But I wanted out of here more.

Inside, the bowling alley was packed. If we hadn’t reserved a lane for cyber bowling, we wouldn’t have gotten one. Cyber bowling was one of the town’s only things to do here on the weekend besides get drunk and party at someone’s house whose parents weren’t home.

And we did plenty of that.

But sometimes we wanted to get out. To see and be seen.

Bowling at midnight on a Friday, with nothing but black lights, flashing strobe lights
, and a blaring jukebox was the way to do it.

Yes. I found it extremely ironic that we went out to see and be seen in a
bowling alley where they shut off all the lights.

There used to be a club, a teen club, just fifteen minutes up the road. It was the kind of place we couldn’t go to without our male friends. Because a group of girls there alone was ripe for the picking. Your ass got grabbed
; you got propositioned; you got leered at. One time I got hauled onto the dance floor by some drunk guy (who likely was not a teenager) who locked his arms around me and refused to let go.

I’m pretty sure he wasn’t the guy I’ve been waiting for all my life.

Gross.

“You know you want these,” Lena said, handing over a pair of ass-ugly brown loafers that Velcro-ed closed.

“Girl, I am going to rock these,” I quipped and strutted over to our lane.

She laughed and followed along. A couple guys a few lanes away whistled at her.

Lena had long, thick blond hair, curves that probably made her daddy crazy, and a laugh that made you think she had quite a bit of naughty under all that nice.

I had plain brown hair, plain brown eyes, and the only curves I had were from the cell phone in the back pocket of my jeans.

“Did we get two lanes?” I asked, glancing at the one right beside ours. It was empty too.

“Christy invited her boyfriend. He’s bringing his friends
,” Lena said, strapping on her ugly shoes.

Christy was another friend of ours. She was dating a senior at the other high school here in this town. I’d seen him around but never really talked to him. My stomach felt a little funny
over a whole lane of guys we didn’t know next to us all night. Not that it mattered. They would all fall over Lena when they saw her.

The rest of our friends filtered in from the cold
, and we all stood around laughing and poking fun at each other and our ugly feet. Christy was sitting on her boyfriend’s lap when several guys walked up. Kevin (Christy’s boyfriend) stood up and gave them all high-fives and fist-bumps.

I swear cavemen probably did the same thing back in the day when they clubbed their dinner and
dragged it home.

I turned away and started entering names into the screens overhead, the one that kept our scores. Bowling started in like five minutes and someone had to do this. After I filled out our lane’s menu
, I switched over to Kevin’s, typing his name in first.

Lena came up beside me, a guy right behind her. “This is Ben,” she said.

I gave him a wave and typed his name in.

“There is also a PJ, Chris
, and…” Lena’s voice trailed off as she was looking toward the group of guys, trying to see who else was here.

“I don’t know the other guy’s name,” she whispered.

Ben had already wandered off to find a ball.

“He can type it in,” I said and spun around to step away from the computer.

“It’s Craig,” a low voice whispered in my ear.

His breath feathered over my ear, causing
my eyes to droop just a little. Goose bumps raced down my spine and filled my toes, making them tingle.

I turned to glance over my shoulder.

He had blue eyes.

He was still incredibly close.

“What?” I said, unable to look away.

“My name,” he said, giving me a half smile. “For the screen
.” He motioned to it, reminding me it was there.

“Oh
,” I said. “Right.”

He grinned. He had a dimple on each side of his mouth. Broad shoulders. Full lips. And a backward baseball
cap pulled over his forehead.

I was staring.

I couldn’t not stare at him.

“You any good at bowling?” he asked.

How had I not seen him around before? Where the hell had he been?

“The best,” I said. “I always win.”

He flashed a grin. “Not tonight. I don’t lose. Especially to a girl.”

Is
he flirting with me?

“Roxie,” Lena called, stepping up to my side. “You’re up.”

This was the part where I would lose his attention. This was the part where he saw he had better options.

He gave Lena the
what up
gesture with his chin.

He kept his eyes on me.

He kept his eyes on me.

I smiled. “I hope your ego can handle it when you lose tonight. Especially to a girl
,” I told him.

“Game on,” he said, backing toward his lane
. Not once did he look away.

Butterflies lifted their wings and took flight in my belly.

Lena pulled me away and shoved me near the thingy that returned your ball. Cool air blew up from the vent, causing a few strands of my hair to float out around me.

“You know him?” she whispered.

“No. Do you?” I whispered back.

“Just that he’s a friend of Kevin’s.”

I nodded. I didn’t tell her how hot I thought he was. I didn’t mention the freaking butterfly sanctuary inside my middle. I calmly picked up the ball I was going to use and walked toward the center dot on the approach.

I would be silly to mention it when I knew he probably wasn’t interested.

Before I overthought it, I stole a glance over my shoulder. He was sitting in the chairs, laughing at something one of the guys said. His dimples were on full display.

But even though he was having a conversation with them
, he was still looking at me.

I looked away
. A little thrill of something shot through me. I stared down at the pins, barely even registering them.

Maybe he’s the one you’ve been waiting for
,
my heart whispered.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.