The next few days passed in a blur of words and frustration. Sienna had been determined to prove Ethan wrong, but the more she wrote, the more she felt the pressure building. The words seemed to stick to her fingers, refusing to flow onto the page in the way she imagined. She tried to focus on the emotional connection, the moments between her characters that were supposed to feel real, raw, and powerful. But the challenge of doing it without a hint of physicality made it feel like she was dancing around an elephant in the room.
She wasn't sure if it was the sheer weight of the bet hanging over her head or the fact that Ethan's smug, confident face kept creeping into her thoughts, but she hadn't been able to focus properly since the challenge had been set. And of course, there was the growing, undeniable truth that every time she thought of Ethan, something strange stirred in her chest.
Damn him.
Sienna sighed, leaning back in her chair. She was at her kitchen table, her laptop open but her mind racing. There had to be a way to get this right. Her characters needed to feel like they were falling in love, but without the distraction of sex. The connection needed to be authentic, so deep it left the reader breathless—even without kissing scenes. She believed it was possible.
But why did she feel like she was always just falling short?
Her phone buzzed again, a notification from Riley. She opened it and read:
Riley: "Just checking in. Ethan called again this morning. He's already got ideas for your 'spicy moments.' Don't let him pressure you into adding anything you're not comfortable with!"
Sienna smiled faintly, the reassurance from Riley giving her a moment of calm. She typed back quickly: "I'm not letting him get to me. I've got this."
She set her phone down, and just as she was about to get back to writing, there was a knock at her door.
Sienna opened it to find Ethan standing there, his usual cocky grin on his face.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, crossing her arms.
"Checking up on you," he replied, stepping inside without waiting for permission. "You've been hiding in here long enough. Time for a little dose of reality."
She didn't have the energy to argue. "If you think you can distract me with more of your 'expert advice,' you're sorely mistaken."
Ethan smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. "I wasn't planning on distracting you. I was planning on helping you."
Her eyebrows shot up. "Helping? I thought you were only here to mock me."
"I'm not here to mock you. I'm here to see if you're actually committed to this little experiment of yours."
Sienna rolled her eyes, walking over to the table. "I'm writing. What's it to you?"
Ethan leaned against the counter, arms crossed, clearly enjoying the power dynamic between them. "How's it going, really?" he asked. "You're not getting anywhere, are you? You've been sitting here for hours, and there's nothing to show for it."
Her chest tightened at his words. "I'm not going to give up. I'll finish it. I'm just… figuring it out."
He raised an eyebrow. "Figuring it out? You're going to need more than just words on a page to win this bet."
Sienna clenched her fists, standing up straighter. "I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help. This is my book, and I'm going to finish it my way."
Ethan watched her closely, then seemed to soften, the teasing edge in his voice disappearing for a moment. "I get it. You're proud of what you're doing. But you're not going to make it easy on yourself, are you?"
She glared at him. "No. And I'm fine with that."
For a long moment, they stood there in silence, tension filling the room.
Then Ethan spoke again, his voice quieter. "You know, there's more to writing than just words. It's about letting people feel something. It's not always about being perfect, Sienna. Sometimes the rawness, the mistakes, they make the connection feel more real."
She blinked, taken aback by the honesty in his tone. "I don't know what you mean."
Ethan shrugged, as if it didn't matter. "You're trying to be so careful with every detail. Sometimes, the best stories come from not worrying about getting everything right."
Sienna looked away, her gaze drifting to the half-written manuscript on her laptop. She knew he was right, in a way. But she couldn't just throw caution to the wind.
"I don't need to throw everything away to make it good," she muttered.
Ethan gave a quiet chuckle. "No, you don't. But you can't be afraid to be messy. Or real."
She felt the tiniest shift in the air, like a subtle change, a growing understanding between them. But she pushed it away, focusing back on her work. "I'll write it my way."
Ethan hesitated, then stood up from the counter. "I'll be around, just to make sure you don't forget the bet."
With a final glance at her, he left, leaving Sienna to sit there, her heart racing, thoughts tangled.
The air between them had changed again.
And she hated how much it had affected her.