Wild Side (Rose Hill, #3)(110)
Watching him waddle away in a huff makes my lips twitch.
And here I thought nothing could make me smile tonight.
Though her shy thank you pulls on my heartstrings a bit, my polite exchange with the agent behind the desk doesn’t make anything any better—the closest hotels have no availability because of other cancellations, and our flight has been rescheduled for a 6 a.m. departure.
It’s currently 11:08, which means by the time I get through the hellish traffic in and around the city to a place with a vacancy, I might as well turn right back around since I’ll need to clear security all over again. The only reasonable solution is to sleep on a bench in the terminal.
Everything about tonight sucks, but I swallow my frustration like a real man and thank her for her help before leaving to find a place to hunker down for the night.
Tired legs carry me through the airport as I scan for a spot where I can go horizontal for a few hours. Years of battling active forest fires has left me with the uncanny ability to doze off almost anywhere and function with little sleep. Wildfires don’t care about your bedtime and often like to do their worst after dark, so I’m no stranger to catching some shut eye in uncomfortable places.
Except, I’m not the only person who seems to have resigned themself to sleeping at the airport tonight.
I stand in place, hands on my hips, searching for even a free corner, but the place is like a fucking hostel, people and bags splayed all over the place.
The only place my eyes land on that has a free spot is the bar. One lone table for two at the edge of the seating area, tucked right next to the walkway that leads to the bathroom. It’s not glamorous, but it’s something. And a drink sounds pretty damn good right now.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Obviously, I first and foremost have to acknowledge the one and only Tribal Chief, Roman Reigns. Just kidding (sort of—only the wrestling girlies will get that joke), but if you aren’t familiar, you should probably Google him for a little bit of my Rhys inspiration.
Honestly, writing a book that involves a sport I enjoyed watching as a kid (and have recently gotten back into with my own child) was a freaking riot. From attending live events, doing a deep dive on the inner workings of the business, and listening to autobiographies read by actual wrestlers, the research for this book was just plain FUN.
If any of you are looking for a great read (or audiobook, because there’s something so heartwarming about listening to her read the book) set in the world of professional wrestling, check out Becky Lynch: The Man: Not Your Average Average Girl by Rebecca Quinn. It’s a fabulous story that I know I will continue to reflect on often.
So aside from The Rock (one of my first crushes), Roman Reigns, and Becky Lynch, I do have some people to thank for helping me publish yet another book.
First, my husband. My actual rock (lol). This was a big year for us. A lot of incredible highs and a few pretty heartbreaking lows. Basically, it was another year of me realizing there’s no one I’d rather have at my side through it all. I love you.
My son, my sunshine. My happy boy who makes even the worst days feel so much better. I love you to the moon and back.
My assistant, Krista. It’s been three years now and you are still the most incredible support. A safe space to laugh, bitch, and cry. Thank you not only for your hard work but also for your friendship.
My editor, Paula Dawn. This is our TWELFTH book together. You make me laugh, you make me think, you make me a better writer. Here’s to twelve more!
My beta reader/proofreader, Leticia Teixeira. Your dedication to me and these characters is unrivaled. Thank you, thank you for your tireless support. I love the way you read a love story, and I especially love that the universe brought us together.
Aimee Ashcraft, I have quickly become incredibly attached to your feedback. Thank you for whipping this manuscript into shape. I know you loved this book the way that I do, which means that not only are great at your job, but you have exceptional taste.
My agent, Kimberly Brower, who has been my biggest champion and confidante this year. My career would not be what it is without you. Thank you, a million times, for believing in me and for always having my back. And a special shoutout to everyone at Brower Literary who works so hard to make every publication possible.
My editor, Christa Désir—working with you is always a highlight. Thank you for reading one of my books once upon a time and thinking there was something there. I wholeheartedly believe I am where I am today because of you.
My publicist, Katie Stutz. I just…adore you. This year I’ve gotten to travel with you, meet you at Disneyland, and advise you on which Crocs you should and should not buy. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
And to the entire team at Bloom Books, I am forever grateful for the love you all put into publishing. I am honored to be part of the team.
My editors, Rebekah West and Anna Boatman, and the entire team at Piatkus and Hachette. Thank you for your endless hard work and thank you for sharing my books with the world. Seeing them in the hands of readers from so many places is such a thrill.
Finally, to my readers. You blow me away every day. Your love. Your support. Your excitement. I’m so lucky to have every last one of you. Thank you for trusting me and following me to Rose Hill. I hope you love it here as much as I do.
I say it pretty much every book, but I’ll say it again: Elsie readers are the best readers.