Page 86 of The Fed Sex Man

“Didn’t go well, did it?”

I looked up. “No, it sure didn’t.”

“When you said you were going to pick him for next month, I thought it was a bad idea.”

“Why? He’s got, like, fifty books out there.”

“He’s a dick, that’s why.”

“I’ve read some of the Facebook posts from his signings,” I said. “People say he’s nice in person.”

“You weren’t ‘in person’,” she explained. “You were talking to him on the phone. I don’t think he’s a very trusting person. Personally, I thought he was a girl for the first couple of years. He was writing under ‘SD’ Hildreth, not Scott.”

“Yeah, I thought he was a girl, too,” I admitted.

“I friended him on Facebook, thinking he was a she,” Jenny said. “Then, I found out he was a guy. I sent him a message and was trying to explain how much I enjoyed his books, and that I thought he was a girl, but that I was glad to find out he was a dude. About two PMs into it, he got mad, blocked me, and unfriended me. Like I said, he’s a dick. All guys are dicks. If you remember that, you’ll be safe.”

“Well, crap. I wanted to market a guy next month.”

“Do that photographer-author guy,” she said excitedly. “Golden Czermak. He writes hot male-male stuff and shifter romance.”

“Ooh. Shifter romance is hot stuff right now. Wait? Is he a dick?”

She shook her head. “Not at all.”

“But he’s a guy. You said all guys are dicks.”

“He’s gay, so he doesn’t count,” she explained. “Gay guys are cool. Straight guys are dicks. Gay guys can be trusted. Straight guys can’t.”

“At all?”

“Not at all,” she said, wagging her raised index finger from side to side as she spoke.

“Can you see if you can get that Golden guy’s contact info?”

“Sure.” She turned toward the door, and then quickly spun around. “Oh, I almost forgot. The reason I came over here in the first place was to say that FedSex is out at the curb. He’s been there for, I don’t know, maybe thirty minutes.”

“Thirty minutes?” I glanced toward the front of the store. His car was parked right beside the entrance. “What’s he doing?”

“Not sure. Looks like he’s on the phone.”

Despite our commitment to one another, I was far from comfortable with all matters when it came my and Tyson’s relationship.

Jenny’s constant talk of men being assholes, acting in unpredictable manners, and cheating left me fearful of one day doing or saying something that would be perceived as being pushy or overbearing. I didn’t want to give Tyson any reason to be anyone other than the man I knew him to be.

“Thanks for telling me,” I said. “I’m sure he’ll come in when he’s done.”

A few minutes later, while I was researching male romance authors, Tyson stepped in front of my desk and cleared his throat.

“How’s your day going?” he asked.

“Pretty basic Saturday afternoon,” I responded with a smile. “Kind of slow. What are you out doing?”

He set his phone down and lowered himself into the seat on the opposite side of the desk. “Just wanted to stop by and let you know that I’m devoted to you.”

I thought we’d already discussed the matter but acted as if the subject was new to me. “Well, that’s nice, Tyson. I’m devoted to you, too.”

He extended his clenched hand over the desk. “Here.”