“Wow,” I whisper as I slowly pace around the room. Unlike the books downstairs, the books in Nas’s office are fictional. He has entire shelves dedicated to specific authors, and has taken his time to face some of the books cover out so they can be seen, while placing figurines of certain book characters next to their stories. It’s all very well put together, but I’m not surprised. It’s Nas after all.

“He’s my favorite,” Nas says as I stare at a shelf full of Neal Shusterman novels.

“Really?” I say with raised eyebrows. “Doesn’t he write fantasy? YA fantasy in particular?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Why do you look so surprised?”

“I just never expected a BDSM author to love YA fantasy.”

“I love all types of books. Neal Shusterman just happens to be my favorite,” Nas explains. “I love a bunch of romance authors as well. I just love books in general.”

“I can tell. I never thought I’d see the day where I’d meet a man with three libraries in his house,” I say, to which Nas chuckles.

I continue my tour of checking out Nas’s shelves, noticing the usual suspects for any book addict with a library. There's a shelf for popular authors across a wide range of genres. The man definitely has his bases covered, but it’s not his adoration for his colleagues that has my mind dancing as I canvas the office. It’s the fact that this is where he wrote my four favorite books. Left of the Slash, The Darkest Kink, Obsessed with Us, and The Patient were all written right here in this room, and they all went on to become New York Times Best Sellers. As a reader, I’m in awe of this room—the place where Nathan Booker put his mind to work and created what I deem to be perfect works of fiction. Nas was in this room coming up with the books that changed my life, and eventually led to us meeting at a book signing before walking down those stairs into his Kingdom together. This is where it all began for both him and me. Being here is like a dream come true.

“You good?” Nas asks as he sees me stop at the final shelf on the tour—the one containing the four books he has written with the covers on full display.

“Yeah, I just can't believe it,” I admit shamelessly. “It’s crazy to be in the place where you wrote my favorite books.”

“Thank you,” Nas says, forever humble.

I keep my eyes on the four covers as I talk to him over my shoulder. “You said you were writing earlier. Are you working on something new?”