Writer's Block by Ali Vali

Author:Ali Vali [Vali, Ali]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781636790220
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2022-05-01T21:02:26+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Wyatt liked when Hayley’s face was visible or partially visible because she was so caught up in what she was doing.

Hayley had put her laptop down and was staring right at her, her hands on her abdomen. It was Hayley’s expression that made her stand up and grip the window frame. She had a hard time breathing when Hayley moved her hands to her breasts. “Fuck me.”

The way Hayley touched herself, moved, and kept her eyes on her made her think what Hayley was doing was for her benefit. This time she’d kept the light on, and it was hard to stay in place. She wanted to be the one who put that expression of bliss on Hayley’s face. That was a ludicrous notion, but these moments had reminded her she was alive.

She exhaled, and Hayley tensed, stopped, then slumped back. Hayley was gorgeous, and she could only imagine the way her delicate skin was flushed. The lights went out after Hayley put her hand to the glass and smiled at her, making her aware of every inch of skin when it heated up. Sleep would be elusive, but she closed her eyes and tried her best. Tomorrow she was putting up siding and then going over to Hayley’s to ask her out on a date.

Thankfully, her dreams weren’t about sex since she was already in the kind of pain touching herself wasn’t going to quell. Instead, there were vignettes of her family vacations through the years. One of the nice things about having more money than she’d ever need was being able to take her parents all those places they’d wanted to go. They’d traveled together a few times a year, and they explored while she found ways to incorporate great cities like Florence and Madrid into her books. She didn’t do it for the write-off but for the pleasure of giving her readers the chance to explore places they might not be able to visit.

To Wyatt that was the truest talent any writer could possess. The ability to have a reader really visualize a setting like the Great Wall, what it was like to walk it, what the view they peered out on looked like, what the air smelled like, and what they’d hear was as important as who’d done it. She smiled as she looked down at her mother’s hand in hers while her dad framed the shot with the Vatican in the background. There were hundreds of people around them acting like the pope came out like a lounge act, but she could still hear her mom’s running commentary on the opulence of the place.

“You can’t blame me,” her mom said when she opened her eyes. “All the artwork and gold everything is not what God had in mind. One room of art could feed a whole country of poor people for a decade. I think Vatican means greed in Italian.”

“You’re preaching to a believer in non-opulence, Mom, so no need to convince me.” She got dressed before going down and brushing her teeth.

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