AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The coffee shop is my refuge, the one place where I can fade into the background, sip my Americano, and watch the world spin without me. With the dark glasses Taylor gave me and baseball cap in place, I slide into my usual corner booth, the one with the worn leather seat and the perfect view of the city streets.
The barista doesn’t even need to ask—being a regular has its perks—and soon enough, a steaming cup of coffee lands in front of me.
I take a sip, letting the warmth seep into my bones, and pull out my laptop.
Lately, writing about the secret lives of billionaires has felt like pushing a three-hundred-pound boulder uphill. Creativity is a temperamental diva, and my heart’s just not in it.
Instead, I’m borderline obsessed with a new piece that has latched onto my brain and refuses to let go.Everyday Heroes Among Us, though I’m tempted to rename itSecret Lives of the Guys NextDoor.
Just as I’m finally slipping into the zone, my Instagram messenger blows up like a pinball machine on overdrive.
What the hell?
I open my @SydneySun account, and my heart slams to a dead stop. Notifications are flooding in—tags, likes, shares—because, somehow, my story just went viral.
Brian Bishop:
Playboy Billionaire or Corporate Saboteur?
The problem is, I didn’t write it.
I didn’t write anything remotely close to it.
Whoever did not only hacked into my account and made me look like a total ass but also has the grammar skills of a middle school dropout. And the spelling? Don’t even get me started. Seriously, who the hell spells “believe” without the ‘i’?
A new message pops up.Huh?Who would be messaging me?
I tap it open, and there it is. The handle that feels like drumsticks on my heart.
@MountainBoyNYC
Brian Bishop.
Former jerkface.
Current husband.
The guy who makes gray sweatpants look like pure athletic porn.
His message is simple, direct, and dripping with that annoying trademark confidence.
@MountainBoyNYC: We need to talk.
I can almost hear his voice, smooth and commanding, the kind that gets under your skin whether you like it or not.
My heart does that stupid little flutter it always does around him, and I have to remind myself to stay calm. This is Brian Bishop we’re talking about. No way am I letting him get the upper hand or know who I am.
My fingers fly across the keyboard.
@SydneySun:I’m super busy right now. How about next week?
Or, as Sydney Sun, how about never?
The reply comes back almost instantly, like he was waiting for it.
@MountainBoyNYC:If you wanted to know more about me, all you had to do was ask.
@MountainBoyNYC:When. Can. We. Meet?
