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Tears dripped down her cheeks, and she moved the box hastily away from her lap so they wouldn’t get on the manuscript. Flipping Kane’s note up, Iris sobbed even harder when she saw the book's name.
The One Where She Rescues the Prince.
Chapter 21
Kane didn’t sleep.
It had been over twelve hours since he’d dropped his book off at Iris’s apartment, and still he hadn’t heard a word. He paced his living room, uncertain what to do with his free time now that the book was finished and unable to move forward.
Ideas were no longer the issue. It was like a dam had broken, and so many new book plots flooded his brain that all he could do was try to catch the threads of them before they were lost forever. His tattered notebook was filled to the brim with new characters and plot twists, so, in theory, he should be able to sit down and write.
But still he paced, waiting.
Waiting was a horrible thing, wasn’t it? How many people spent their life waiting? Waiting to take a chance? Waiting to start over? Waiting for love? Maybe the real lesson here was that Kane couldn’t wait anymore. Instead, he had to make his life happen for himself. Decision made, Kane grabbed his keys and strode to the door. He was done waiting on Iris. She would have to give him a clear answer, one way or the other, on if they could have a future together.
Swinging his door open, Kane shouted in surprise, and Iris squeaked, almost dropping the box with the manuscript she held. Catching the box, Kane grabbed her arm and wrenched her inside, slamming the door behind her before she could escape.
“You scared me,” Iris gasped, holding a hand on her chest over her heart.
She looked wonderful. Heartbreakingly, achingly, lovely. Dark circles smudged the delicate skin beneath her eyes, and she wore a tattered sweatshirt pulled on over paint-smudged leggings. Her hair was piled high on top of her head, the red having started to fade into more of a strawberry-blond color. Kane had never seen anyone more beautiful.
“Sorry…I was fed up with waiting on you. I was coming to you. Even if I had to stand outside your apartment and sing a song at the top of my lungs like some heartbroken teenager from an eighties movie.”
“Hmm, I’d like to see that, I think.” Iris’s gaze shot to the door, a calculating look in her eyes. “I could just run home, and you can still give it a go.”
Kane blocked the door with his shoulders, narrowing his eyes at her.
“Not a chance, doll. You missed that opportunity.”
“I knew I should have waited a little longer.” Iris sighed. Turning, she walked toward the kitchen, spun once more, and crossed the living room. She paced, just like Kane did when he was upset, and he watched her carefully, his heart hammering in his chest. Kane wondered what was going on in that maddeningly fascinating brain of hers.
“I read your book,” Iris said, breaking the silence that had grown taut with unsaid words.
“And?” Kane asked, hope blooming low in his gut.
“I stayed up all night, Kane. I couldn’t put it down. It…” Iris held a hand to her heart. “It captivated me. Enchanted me. I’m…addicted. To the story. To you. To your words. To how you see me,” Iris said. Her voice caught, and a sheen of tears touched her eyes. And still, Kane waited. “I know I wasn’t the character in your book, yet. Yet… I could see. You were writing to me, weren’t you? You think that I…” Iris stilled and turned once more, her fists clenched at her sides. Kane let her pace, the silence growing longer, and waited for her to decide their future. She whirled.
“Is that how you see me?” Iris demanded. “That I…I saved you? You? Of all people? A world-renowned author who…”
“Who was broken and battered and barely treading water when he met you.” Kane prowled forward, took her hands so tightly clenched, and brought them to his heart. “Months I’d been lost. Longer than that, if I’m being honest with myself. And then you came along in your life raft and saved a drowning man.”
“I don’t know if I want that responsibility. What if you were just ready to move on? What if it had been any woman you’d met in the airport?” Iris blinked up at him, worry dancing in her eyes.
“Ah, darling, it wouldn’t have been. Fate wouldn’t let that happen to us.” Kane raised her hands to his lips, kissing each one gently. “What do your guides say?”
Iris muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “do him,” and Kane chuckled.
“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”
“Nothing.” Iris glowered at him and stepped back. Reaching up, she pulled her bag from her shoulder, put it on his desk, and dug in it. “I have something for you.”
“You don’t need to…” Kane trailed off when Iris turned, her beloved pair of purple boots in her hands.
“I do. These are for you. I know it may seem silly, and you can’t wear them or anything, but…it’s the meaning, okay?” Iris said, a challenge in her eyes.
Kane remembered what she’d said about her boots and instantly understood the meaning behind her gift. Warmth flooded him, making him almost dizzy with anticipation.
