Read Online Alone by Erin R Flynn - Free Book Online Page B

shut down on me again. Maybe we need a signal that I’m misbehaving again so I recognize the signs and you don’t feel confronted which clearly frightens you.”
    “Like what?” I muttered, letting go of the door and stepping away to clean up dinner again, understanding what he was saying about the switch. But that didn’t mean this was going to work either.
    He was quiet a moment before smiling. “You could pop me in the forehead like those V8 commercials.”
    I blinked at him a moment before I burst out laughing. “Are you insane ? I can’t tell you that you’re upsetting me, but I’m going to crack you one? Yes, that sounds likely. Abso-fucking-lutely not, Conall!”
    “Right, good point.”
    “We need more like a time-out whistle,” I drawled as I threw more food away, hating I didn’t get to finish it. It had been a damn good dinner. He was getting it again if we worked past this.
    “That’s a splendid idea actually. Why don’t we get a whistle or one of those deli bells? That’s our time-out for any conversation or fight that I’m reverting or just we need to stop and take a breather.”
    I thought about a few minutes before nodding. “Yeah. I could do that. If you promise that if I ding the bell, you let me walk away for a few minutes and leave me be. That’s perfect actually. Then we can cool off and talk.”
    “Lovely. Now, can we discuss this conference thing again?” he hedged, eyeing me closely.
    “I said—”
    “I heard you say no and I heard your reasons why. I also have read how crucial they are to an author’s career. Maybe there’s a compromise to be had. Can we please just discuss it and see if there isn’t a way to find something that can be done?”
    I nodded, sighing as I leaned against the counter. “Okay, but can we do it tomorrow? I’m wiped. Apparently I can only handle one drama a day.”
    “That’s more than fair,” he agreed with a weak smile.
    Either way, the mood and night were ruined—we both knew that, and honestly, I was a big enough person to admit it was both our fault. Maybe even more mine than his.
     

5
     
    Conall left after he finished helping me clean up dinner, the awkwardness in the air too much for us to salvage the night. I changed and couldn’t pull it together enough to do anything other than burn off nervous energy. I decided to handle some of the promo stuff we discussed. But it was summer and there were too many bugs living with woods half surrounding the house, so out to the garage I went to grab a box.
    Rubbing alcohol didn’t work, but nail polish remover did. I carefully applied it to the outside of each USB drive, not wanting to ruin them after all. But an hour later, I was no more calmed down when I was done with that box. I sighed and got the next one and kept working.
    By midnight I’d finished four boxes, more wound up than when I’d started. The mere idea of having to talk about attending several conferences and traveling was wigging me out. I was a freak. I acknowledged that. It didn’t make it any less hard for me to deal with by admitting that I was in fact a freak.
    I finally crashed sometime after three in the morning once all seven of the USB boxes were done, stacked in my front room around the ugly furniture. I wondered if Conall would get rid of that crap too.
    The next morning I got up, showered, made coffee, and an icy protein shake, not really in the mood for anything more substantial. I ignored my emails and phone, writing to take my mind off everything else. When my hands hurt from typing, I took breaks, working on removing my logo from the dorky mugs he’d purchased. I had started with the plain Bic pens he got, but there were thousands of those and that would take days.
    I didn’t care that much about those to waste that much time. I really didn’t.
    Then I went back to writing.
    Then back to the mugs.
    And on.
    And on.
    And on .
    Next thing I knew my doorbell rang. The first time I ignored it, figuring it was