The next morning, Sienna couldn't get Ethan's smirk out of her head.
She was sitting at her kitchen table, a half-drunk cup of coffee in front of her, her fingers hovering above her laptop keyboard. The cursor blinked, waiting for her to write. But the words wouldn't come. She couldn't stop thinking about the bet.
The challenge itself was ridiculous, but what bothered her more was how confident Ethan had been. It wasn't like he was being arrogant for the sake of it. No, Ethan wasn't just confident—he was sure. Sure that a romance without explicit scenes couldn't work. Sure that she couldn't write something meaningful without getting physical.
Sienna knew he was wrong. She had to prove him wrong.
"Alright, let's do this," she muttered to herself, opening a new document.
But as soon as she started typing, her phone buzzed again.
Ethan: "Did you actually think this would be easy? I'm serious about the bet, you know."
She rolled her eyes, typing back without hesitation: "You'll see. I don't need sex scenes to write a good book."
She hit send and sighed. Then, the familiar feeling of frustration began to creep in. The pressure. Everyone in the industry was obsessed with physicality in romance novels. They claimed the story would fail without it. But here she was, a writer who believed there was more to love than just the physical.
A knock at her door made her jump.
She opened it, expecting Riley, but instead, Ethan stood there, a smug grin plastered on his face.
"What are you doing here?" Sienna asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Just making sure you're getting started," he replied, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. He walked toward her living room, as though he owned the place.
"And how exactly do you plan on helping me?" she asked, crossing her arms.
"I'm not here to help," Ethan said, still grinning. "I'm here to see if you're actually serious about this. If I'm going to publish your book, I want to know you're not wasting my time."
Sienna fought the urge to snap at him. "I'm serious. You'll see. But it's going to take more than just you sitting here to distract me."
Ethan took a seat on the couch, tossing his jacket aside. "You can't do this on your own, you know. You're going to need a little help from me if you want to write something that doesn't sound like a dry, emotionless, snoozefest."
"I don't need your help."
He leaned forward, looking at her with a new kind of intensity. "You're stubborn. But I can tell you're passionate about this. That's why I'm willing to stick around and watch you fail. So, go ahead. Prove me wrong."
Sienna clenched her jaw. "I will."
For the next hour, Ethan lingered in the background, distracting her just enough that she couldn't get into a rhythm. She tried to write, but he was always there, making comments, tossing out opinions like confetti.
"You're going to need more than just character development. You need some kind of twist," he said, pacing behind her. "A plot twist, a deep secret, maybe an affair, some tension. Throw in some physical attraction, and bam—best-seller."
Sienna groaned. "I told you, no sex. No cheap thrills."
Ethan smirked, clearly enjoying this. "Right, right. No sex. I get it. But you're still going to have to create some sort of tension, some kind of intimacy that's about more than just talking."
She turned around, locking eyes with him. "I don't need your advice, Ethan."
He stared back, his gaze softened for a moment. "We'll see."
A sudden knock at the door interrupted them both. Sienna opened it to find her best friend, Harper, standing there, holding a bottle of wine and two glasses.
"What's with the serious vibes in here?" Harper asked, eyeing Ethan as she entered.
Sienna shrugged, gesturing toward Ethan. "He thinks I can't write a romance without sex scenes."
Harper raised an eyebrow, glancing at Ethan. "Really? That's what this is about?"
Ethan smiled at Harper's reaction, clearly amused. "I'm just trying to get her to see reason. Romance needs chemistry, intimacy—physical attraction. It's a proven formula."
Sienna could feel her blood boil. "Not everyone thinks like you, Ethan. Some of us believe that emotional connection can be more powerful than anything physical."
Harper took a seat, pouring herself a glass of wine. "You know, I've been reading your drafts. And while I don't necessarily agree with everything Sienna writes, I do think she's onto something. There's something raw in her work, something real. That's what sells. Not just skin."
Ethan raised his hands in surrender. "Fine. Maybe I'm wrong. But if Sienna's serious about this, then let's make a bet out of it. If she really can write a romance that works, I'll publish it. But if it flops, she agrees to follow my edits and rewrite it—exactly how I want."
Sienna's heart skipped a beat. "You've got yourself a deal."
Harper looked between them, clearly enjoying the tension in the room. "Well, I'm in. I'll be the referee."
Ethan's grin widened. "Let the challenge begin."