The urge to write took me by surprise. I was still reeling from seeing Ryan when I fell into bed this morning sometime after one. My body was drained but it felt like my brain was clipped with jumper cables, sparking with a sudden rush of outside energy. Sleep wasn’t happening and after hours of tossing and turning, I wandered into the living room and ended up on the couch with my laptop.

Maybe I can write more now. It would be amazing to bang out another chapter. I’m about to dive back in when my cell phone rings beside me. I look down and see Samantha, my literary agent’s name, flashing across the caller ID screen. I pick up the phone and accept the call with a tired smile. “Good morning, Sam.”

“I just got the pages. I love them. Have you written more yet?”

I let out a mixture of a laugh and a sigh as I press the phone more firmly to my ear. “Not yet. I wish.”

“Don’t psych yourself out. I like the direction this is going in. It has Delicate Dawn vibes but with a much stronger female lead, which is exactly what the publisher is looking for.”

I nod my head, remembering how easily my first novel came to me compared to the torture chamber experience this one has been. “I’m glad. I hope they’ll like it.”

“Now you just have to keep momentum. What was it that finally got you started?”

Sliding down a little in my seat, I rub my legs against the cotton cushions. “I’m not positive the two events are connected, but I ended up seeing my college ex-boyfriend last night.”

“Well, well,” Sam says playfully. “That’s intriguing.”

“Intriguing but potentially problematic for my mental health.”

“Whatever. This is New York, Kara—we’re all insane. When are you seeing him again?”

I take a deep breath and push my shoulders back, feeling my muscles stretch and release after hunching over my laptop for so long. “I’m actually having dinner with him and a couple of friends tonight.”

“That’s great! If this guy is what you need to get your book done, then you need to use every opportunity you have to see him again. Need I remind you of the very ominous deadline that’s hanging over our heads?”

The tension in my shoulders is back with a vengeance and has brought friends.

“No reminder is necessary,” I assure her.

“And if there isn’t an opportunity, you need to make the opportunity. I’m talking you, him, your laptop, all of you locked in a room somewhere with no means of escape until the best novel of your life is sitting in my inbox.”