“There are no words in my head today. All I want is a nap.” I groaned the words, banging my head rhythmically on my desktop. I had spent the last three hours staring at an empty page, my fingers hovering over the keys, and absolutely nothing would come out. It was hard to feel like an author on these days—or a productive member of society, for that matter. I had even taken a break and scrubbed the toilets, hoping that the dreaded task would force words to return, and still nothing but static. I grabbed the bottle of Advil from my desk, popping pills as I glared at the offending white space on my screen. These days never got any easier, that was for sure. Writer’s block, lack of inspiration, brain freeze—whatever I called it didn’t stop it from sucking.

Maybe Jenna had broken the keyboard with her head… Yes, it was far more satisfying to blame her rather than to accept that all my characters were currently sleeping and being obstinate little fuckers. Not to mention the fact that I kept checking my cell phone to see if any three numbers showed up. My phone, however, remained completely silent. Not even a spam message to give me hope that one of three sexy men was thinking of me the way I was thinking of them. Not that I would text them first, mind you. I had used up my share of ballsiness last night in confessing my author status.

I leaned back in my chair, massaging my throbbing temples and trying to rotate the crick out of my neck. Watching the game last night had been enjoyable, especially teasing the guys when the Pirates had lost. Even Troy had seemed to warm up to me a bit, though that may have been more in relation to the number of tequila shots we had forced upon him as the Pirate’s plays took a turn for the worse. Max had swiped my phone and programmed his and Troy’s numbers in, so I figured it couldn’t hurt to hope they may message at some point.

“Oh, suck it up, Emily,” I muttered to myself, pushing out of my chair to pace my office. “They do have jobs. You’re supposed to be working as well and you hate when anyone bothers you while you work.” Great, now I had been lowered to talking to myself in pursuit of conversation. I briefly considered ordering more cookies and a coffee the size of my head, before I decided against it. Maybe a change of scenery was exactly what I needed. I grabbed a water bottle, a notepad, and a few extra pens to toss into my bag before heading out the door. I’d grab an iced coffee and head towards the covered bridge. I could chill out by the water, doodle a bit, and hope inspiration would strike.

A short drive and a giant s'mores iced coffee did little to lift my spirits or offer inspiration as I pulled into the nature trail parking area. With it being the start of summer, I knew it would be a bit busier than normal, but I still glared slightly at the cars. I had taken to considering the bridge as my personal thinking spot through the spring as I had rarely spotted anyone else there. I knew the park was popular, and it was a foolish hope that the little hidden bench would remain my own, yet I had still wished for it. I debated my decision for a moment as children’s laughter rang in the air, pulling at my heart. My hand twitched as I debated Skyping my own children, seeing how their day was going. Ian and I had agreed that it was better if I waited for the kids to call me in the evenings, rather than reaching out to them. They couldn’t know how badly I missed them or it would affect their ability to adjust. Not to mention I could interfere in whatever activity they had planned.

I knew my kids loved their dad, despite their confusion and hostility regarding his leaving. They had even learned to love his boyfriend, Joseph—though they had known him as a friend for several years. Ian and Joseph had known each other through work—Ian was a software developer and Joseph was an accountant—and he had been to our house on several occasions for dinner or a drink. I wished sometimes that I had seen the signs in advance, that it hadn’t been as big of a shock as it had been, yet, like so many women whose husbands had affairs, I had been completely blind to it. Ian had broken down on Thanksgiving Day once the children were in bed, and told me that he couldn’t start the new year off with a lie. That he had been cheating on me for months, and he wanted to leave and start his life as his ‘true self.’

He had apologized over and over again for hurting me, for hurting the kids, and I had simply sat there frozen in place, wondering who this woman was who had stolen his heart. More than that, wondering if I should be more hurt than I was; if I should want to lash out at her. Yet, there had been an odd sense of relief amidst the anger, the hurt, the fear. I had known for years that our relationship had fallen apart, though for both Ian and me our children were our focus. We hadn’t wanted to do anything that could potentially hurt them.

When he had confessed it was Joseph, not another woman, I had laughed. I felt guilty about it later, seeing the hurt on his face, as he thought I laughed in disgust at him. It had been a crazy mixture of relief and shock and self-deprecation, not disgust. How had I missed that he was gay? That our sex life had gone from infrequent to non-existent, I had simply explained away with my own reasons: he worked long hours, I was attempting my hand at writing and was swept up in my own thoughts, we had young children in the house and very few minutes of peace, we were always sick with something the kids had brought home, he was repulsed by the weight I had gained over the years. It had never crossed my mind to wonder if his friendship with Joseph, all the late night drinks and Saturday golfing days, was more than what he claimed.

The next few months had been a blur of lawyers’ offices and tears from all of us. We had kept things civil and equal as much as we could. Yet, when the truth was spilled by a loose-lipped gossiper, things had gone from uncomfortable to horrible. Ian and Joseph’s working environment became intolerable with snide comments, scathing glances, and prejudiced clients. The kids were getting teased at school. I had been approached by neighbors and even people I had once considered friends, condemning his lifestyle and my own approval of it. More tears had followed as Joseph made the decision to transfer jobs out to San Francisco where he had family, and he hoped a more friendly environment. Ian had decided to follow. I had ended up coming home.

I was puffing slightly as I climbed the final hill before the bridge, still lost in my own dark thoughts. It was due to those thoughts, and the burgeoning plant life, that I didn’t see anyone on my bench until the last moment. I swore, seeing a man sprawled out on his back to watch the water. I loved that damn bench, preferred it to any of the others in the park. The greenery hid me when I was sitting there, allowing me to eavesdrop on the conversations of those who passed by. The water’s constant flow and the breeze made enough noise to keep me from going insane, yet still allowing me to think and become lost in my own worlds or my character’s heads. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I could possibly bribe this man for my bench back, or if that fell into the realm of pathetic. Pathetic or not, I needed out of my funk, and I hoped my special spot would do it. So, bribery it was.

I paced up behind the bench, trying to come around it as I juggled my wallet out of my burgeoning purse. I should have known better than to try and multi-task. A stray root caught on my foot and I went sprawling, landing with my face in the poor man’s lap as I knocked all of the air out of him, crashing my fists into his abdomen. “Oh my god, I am so sorry!”

“Why am I not surprised?” The words were a wheeze as I scrambled to get out of the ridiculous position I had fallen into, my thighs against his cheek, my elbows digging into his ribs, my face ridiculously close his pelvis. I wasn’t sure my skin could get any redder as I tried to catch my balance, only succeeding in elbowing him again. I froze as the voice clicked, and I turned wide, horrified eyes to meet brilliant green ones. I tripped again, swearing as I caught myself on the edge of the bench, a giant splinter embedding itself in my palm.

“Fuck!” I screeched, shaking my hand, my eyes welling slightly. Ok, that had really, really hurt. “I’m so sorry.” I could only repeat the apology to the scowling Troy as he sat up, reaching a hand out for me.

“Can you not even walk?” His words were more incredulous than pissed, which I took as a positive while I cradled my hand.

“Stupid roots grew up since I’ve been here last.”

“Is there a reason you showered me with ones?” Humor laced his voice now, and I glanced over to see that, indeed, my wallet had spilled open during the fall and I actually had dumped several one dollar bills on him. He gathered them with pursed lips, the corners twitching madly in an attempt not to smile as I hissed at the pain in my palm. I tossed my bag onto the bench, cradling my hand against my chest as I dug for my emergency kit. I pulled out the small box, opening it to reveal my first aid and generalized klutz out kit. He gaped as I lifted the first layer, sorting through the organized compartments until I came up with a pair of tweezers, a disinfectant wipe, and a band-aid. “You weren’t kidding about the first aid kit.” I wasn’t sure if he was impressed, amused, or shocked as he watched me.

“Nope.” I knew the reply was surly, especially since I was the one who had landed on him, but this hurt damn it!

He sighed as I attempted to tear the wrapper from the disinfectant wipe. “Here, let me.” He swiped the wipe from my hand in a quick gesture, cleaning the area and hissing as he got a good look. “That’s more a chunk of wood than a splinter,” he murmured. I bit my lip at the sting of the disinfectant as he pressed it against the wound, angling his head to study it closer. “This will hurt.” The warning was pointless, as I was well aware, though it was sweet. He pulled the tweezers from my hand, angling me to give himself better light. “What were you doing out here anyway? I assume you don’t normally throw yourself or money on top of prostrate men.” His eyes met mine and his smile was slow. I nearly stuttered at the wattage of that smile, and I was desperately glad he didn’t use it frequently or I would have already been a begging puddle at his feet. Whew!

“I write here.” The words were a breathy stutter, followed by a hiss as he attempted to grab the slender end of the splinter with the tweezers.

“Here as in this park?” He was concentrating hard now, the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth. I wanted to do the exact same thing…

“Um, as in this bench.” The words were gritted out as he fished in my hand for the damn chunk of the bench. I had always loved this bench. What the hell had I done to piss it off enough for it to act like a swatted wasp, it’s stinger buried deep into my flesh? “I used to come here all the time as a kid and play out stories in my head. I decided I’d keep it up once I moved back here. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone else on it,” I admitted as I tried to breathe through my nose rather than my teeth.

“Funny. I’ve been coming here for the past few years and I’ve never seen anyone on this bench either. It’s hard to see it through the bushes. I like the solitude.” He succeeded in distracting me as I focused more on him than the pain in my palm.

“You come here a lot?” I couldn’t keep the skepticism from my voice. I had been coming here probably once a week since April, yet I hadn’t seen him once in those two months.

“When I don’t have school.” He pointed out, his tone dry. “Not all of us are lucky enough to flex our hours. I’m still tied to the school bell the same way your kids are.”

I hissed as the splinter began to slide from my skin. “Makes sense,” I ground out. “Done tearing down your room for the year?”

“Yeah, I finished the other day. Max and Alex don’t need my help at the office at the moment, and the summer training camp hasn’t started, so I’m just cooling my heels. Figured I’d come down here and read.” He indicated with his head and I glanced towards the book I hadn’t noticed and sputtered. He was reading ‘The Last Astronaut.’ “I figured I’d catch up before the next one came out. Got it!” He triumphantly held up the inch long chunk of wood, dropping it into my extended hand as he swept the spot with another disinfectant wipe and applied the bandage.

“Thanks.” I was slightly in awe as I considered my sore hand.

“Well, you did tip me after all.” That wicked grin flashed again as he handed me back the wad of ones. “Why did you have your wallet out anyhow? I doubt the ducks would appreciate cash rather than bread.”

I shuffled slightly, unsure of how to handle this side of Troy. “I was going to bribe you,” I muttered the words.

“Bribe me?” He cocked his head. “Bribe me for what?”

“So I could have my bench back,” I admitted, knowing I sounded like a fool.

“Ah.” He nodded in understanding and scooped to pick up the fallen book, brushing it off. “Well, for the sake of our universe, I will leave you in peace, no cash bribe necessary.” I hesitated for a moment as he turned to leave.

“Would you like to come over for dinner?” The words fell from my lips before I could stop them and he froze. “I mean, as a thank you for getting the splinter out of my hand, and for sharing my bench.” I rambled, unable to stop the words. “I mean, Alex and Max could come over too; I always make enough for an army. Mom habit.” I could only shrug as he turned slowly to study me.

“Dinner tonight?” I nodded, sheepish. What in the world had possessed me to ask him over for dinner? “Sure. I could do dinner.” He paused for a moment, reaching up to ruffle his hair as if thinking something over. “I’m sure Max and Alex would like to come too.” He said the words slowly, weighing them as he spoke. “I can stop by the office and let them know. They don’t have court today since it’s a Saturday. Should I tell them a time?”

I blanked for a moment, unsure. I hadn’t actually expected him to accept, and now I was scrambling. “Um, seven? That gives me time to cook and everything. Um, there’s a Braves game on at nine. You’re all welcome to stay for it. Just, let me know if there’s a food you guys don’t like.” I couldn’t stop sputtering.

He considered for a moment, cocking his head to the side. “Max hates mushrooms and liver. Alex doesn’t care for eggplant.” He shrugged a bit. “I’m not the biggest fan of sugar or sweets.” With that ripped body of his, I couldn’t say that was a surprise.

“Darn, there went my meal plan.”

He reared back for a minute in shock before smirking. “We’ll eat most things. It’ll be a nice change from pizza or burgers. Thank you for the invite.” He patted his book as he added, “I’ll go finish this off and leave you to your inspiration. See you tonight, Emily.”

I attempted a smile, still standing awkwardly by the bench, my hand still held out from where he had been holding it. Yeah right, like I was going to get any more writing done today. As he disappeared down the hill, I whipped out my phone and texted Jenna. I needed help with both a meal plan and an outfit, and she was most definitely the best person for the job.