knew Ryan was friends with the best-selling author, and he preferred to keep it that way. “Let’s get back to the –”
“Have you read Firebrand , Mr. McConnell?” Celia asked. He wondered if the girl knew something, or was just enjoying keeping the class topic on the steamy book.
Of course he’d read it. He read everything Sam wrote, and it wasn’t just because they were friends. Sam’s books, though they were most often shelved in the romance section, had a wide appeal. The central romance was often developed during some thrilling subplot full of intrigue and danger.
“I have, actually.” There was no point in denying it. The book had burned up the charts recently.
“You read romance novels, Mr. McC?” Mike looked as if Ryan had just admitted to not liking football – something that was unheard of in their small, upstate town. But he, in fact, not only liked watching the sport, he played in a pick-up league on the weekends.
“My reading tastes are pretty eclectic, Mike. And there’s a lot to enjoy in Cavell’s books.”
“Like the sex?” Jackson snickered. Ryan shot him a look from beneath his brows and the boy subsided.
“There’s a lot of action and intrigue. And the character development is excellent, which I appreciate.”
“Like, the way Thea is so guarded because of her childhood, but eventually she begins to trust Max and then, BAM, she finds out he’s a spy and she’s heartbroken?” Celia’s eyes glittered with the fire of a true fan. Ryan chuckled.
“Yes, Celia. Something like that.”
He glanced at the clock. The bell was going to ring soon. Ryan leaned back in his chair, grinning. “This is what being a writer is really about. It’s not about the movie rights, or whatever. That’s bonus. What an author really wants is for people to connect with their story. Trust me, Sam Cavell would much rather you talk about Firebrand than speculate about his personal life.”
The bell rang, and the students began quickly gathering up their books. “Don’t forget your journals for tomorrow’s class! And read pages 23 to 30 in your textbooks!”
{ 2 }
Ryan was getting out of the shower when he heard his phone buzz on the nightstand. He didn’t bother rushing to answer. He knew who it would be.
He’d been friends with Sam Cavell since high school, and the quiet man was nothing if not punctual. It was something of a joke between them, since Ryan was hardly ever on time…well, except for class. For some people, such opposing natures probably would have made a friendship difficult, but Sam and Ryan were always thick as thieves. Ryan was the wild card. Sam was his straight man. He chuckled to himself at the terminology, scrubbing the towel over his hair.
He had come to terms with his unrequited love for his best friend years ago. Ryan had realized shortly after going through puberty that the feelings he had for his friend were more than just friendly. There had been a few times he’d almost said something. Thirteen years was a long time to keep a secret like that from someone who he told everything.
But in the end, he was just too chicken to take the risk. He’d never even admitted to being attracted to men. Not because he thought Sam would judge him. He knew him better than that. But if Sam knew, he might ask questions and then he’d have to admit his feelings. He couldn’t lie to his friend. Not outright, and he didn’t want to lose the friendship.
No, it was better to maintain the illusion. Not that he dated many women either. Well, only frequently enough to throw off any suspicion by Sam.
Sam was the only person he spent time with on a regular basis. They rarely went more than a couple of days without talking on the phone, even when the popular author was on tour. They attended baseball games together during the season. Sam was a Mets fan and Ryan was a Yankees fan—yet another difference between them that just seemed to add dimensions to their relationship instead of
“Have you read Firebrand , Mr. McConnell?” Celia asked. He wondered if the girl knew something, or was just enjoying keeping the class topic on the steamy book.
Of course he’d read it. He read everything Sam wrote, and it wasn’t just because they were friends. Sam’s books, though they were most often shelved in the romance section, had a wide appeal. The central romance was often developed during some thrilling subplot full of intrigue and danger.
“I have, actually.” There was no point in denying it. The book had burned up the charts recently.
“You read romance novels, Mr. McC?” Mike looked as if Ryan had just admitted to not liking football – something that was unheard of in their small, upstate town. But he, in fact, not only liked watching the sport, he played in a pick-up league on the weekends.
“My reading tastes are pretty eclectic, Mike. And there’s a lot to enjoy in Cavell’s books.”
“Like the sex?” Jackson snickered. Ryan shot him a look from beneath his brows and the boy subsided.
“There’s a lot of action and intrigue. And the character development is excellent, which I appreciate.”
“Like, the way Thea is so guarded because of her childhood, but eventually she begins to trust Max and then, BAM, she finds out he’s a spy and she’s heartbroken?” Celia’s eyes glittered with the fire of a true fan. Ryan chuckled.
“Yes, Celia. Something like that.”
He glanced at the clock. The bell was going to ring soon. Ryan leaned back in his chair, grinning. “This is what being a writer is really about. It’s not about the movie rights, or whatever. That’s bonus. What an author really wants is for people to connect with their story. Trust me, Sam Cavell would much rather you talk about Firebrand than speculate about his personal life.”
The bell rang, and the students began quickly gathering up their books. “Don’t forget your journals for tomorrow’s class! And read pages 23 to 30 in your textbooks!”
{ 2 }
Ryan was getting out of the shower when he heard his phone buzz on the nightstand. He didn’t bother rushing to answer. He knew who it would be.
He’d been friends with Sam Cavell since high school, and the quiet man was nothing if not punctual. It was something of a joke between them, since Ryan was hardly ever on time…well, except for class. For some people, such opposing natures probably would have made a friendship difficult, but Sam and Ryan were always thick as thieves. Ryan was the wild card. Sam was his straight man. He chuckled to himself at the terminology, scrubbing the towel over his hair.
He had come to terms with his unrequited love for his best friend years ago. Ryan had realized shortly after going through puberty that the feelings he had for his friend were more than just friendly. There had been a few times he’d almost said something. Thirteen years was a long time to keep a secret like that from someone who he told everything.
But in the end, he was just too chicken to take the risk. He’d never even admitted to being attracted to men. Not because he thought Sam would judge him. He knew him better than that. But if Sam knew, he might ask questions and then he’d have to admit his feelings. He couldn’t lie to his friend. Not outright, and he didn’t want to lose the friendship.
No, it was better to maintain the illusion. Not that he dated many women either. Well, only frequently enough to throw off any suspicion by Sam.
Sam was the only person he spent time with on a regular basis. They rarely went more than a couple of days without talking on the phone, even when the popular author was on tour. They attended baseball games together during the season. Sam was a Mets fan and Ryan was a Yankees fan—yet another difference between them that just seemed to add dimensions to their relationship instead of
Similar Books
