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Finally satisfied, the girls say their thanks and walk away to continue their workout. I gesture to the table by the Shake Bar for us to sit.

I frown. “I miss when you weren’t known. It’s getting annoying having to be your camera person.”

He leans forward with a smirk. “You do a fantastic job, JJ. Now, tell me more about this insane plan you have.”

I sigh and lean back. “I am tired of writing young adult fantasy. It’s been a great couple of years, but it’s time for me to move on. Yah know?”

I enjoyed writing young adult fantasy a lot. It was creative and fun for me to come up with crazy worlds and stories. I thought people would think I was insane with my ideas, but it turned out everyone loved it.

Who would’ve thought?

“You’ve made a name for yourself, though. You’re a New York Times best-selling author, and your series is possibly becoming a movie.”

I tell Caleb everything. Technically, I am not supposed to tell anyone about the movie deal, but that restriction doesn’t include best friends.

Yesterday, my agent called me about a possible deal, and I couldn’t believe it. Seeing my fantasy book on the big screen would be a dream come true. But then what after that? Write more of the same type of books?

No.

It’s time to move forward. I’m really excited about the endless possibilities with an adult romance book. Plus, sex sells.

And it sells well. I’m trying to have an early retirement. It’s either make the money on my own or get a sugar daddy without giving him sugar. Some men like feet. Mine are cute. Sometimes ashy. But it ain’t nothing some shea butter can’t solve.

My point is while I live very comfortably with my previous book deals, romance can take me to another level. It’s a totally different audience, and it excites but frightens me to death.

I shrug. “I’m bored.” I lean forward and motion for him to come closer. “I’ve been reading spicy books and want to write one of my own.”

He fakes a gasp. “Josephine Cameron Jenkins, you’ve been reading porn? What happened to my innocent JJ?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not innocent. Just inexperienced with the different sexual activities. You know how much my anxiety affects my interactions with men. I feel so awkward trying to explain to someone that I’m getting to know about my sexual interest. Last time I tried…he was just weird.”

“What things are you interested in?” he asks, taking a sip from his bottle.

“Hear me out. I took an online test that gives you information on possible kinks one may have.”

Curiosity glints in his eyes. “And what were your results?”

“I may have a thing for wanting to be spanked, choked, or called a ‘slut’” I reply easily.

He chokes on his water, and I lean over to pat his back, but he waves me away. Alright, choke then.

I wonder which part surprised him. Was it the ‘slut’? Probably. I’m not sure if I’ll enjoy being called that but can’t knock it till you try it.

The feminist in me is rolling in her grave. Doing damn cartwheels.

I continue, “I need to experience all forms of sex before I can write my own book. I can’t even think of a romance plot because of my lack of experience. I need to be wined, dined, then dicked down properly. I think a month is enough to learn.”

Caleb shifts in his seat and clears his throat. “I can help you with that.”

I tilt my head in confusion. “With what?”

“All of what you just mentioned.”

I let out a laugh. “Now is not the time to make jokes. I seriously have a deadline to meet with my publisher. But I’m having major writer’s block. I can’t write what I don’t know.”

“I’m not joking. I’ll do it. I can teach you everything you want to know,” he says, completely serious.

Looking at him, I realize he means it. “I’m not fucking my best friend. The end.”