Page 16 of Unromance

He had a feeling the bartender would give her literally anything she asked for. He could empathize. Mason smiled smugly to himself, imagining the bartender’s disappointment when the pen and paper weren’t so she could leave him her number.

“Okay.” Sawyer clicked the pen pensively. She wrote the number one and circled it, writing “no feelings,” then the number twoand “no sex.” She pushed her platinum hair back over her shoulder. “What other safeguards should we have?”

“Can we see other people while we do this?” he asked.

Her brows disappeared beneath her bangs. “I thought the whole point was for you to stay single.”

Mason smiled. “I wasn’t asking for me. I was asking for that guy.” He jerked his head in the direction of their bartender, who was covertly watching Sawyer as he dried pint glasses.

The corner of Sawyer’s red mouth quirked up. She scrawled a phone number at the bottom of the paper before tearing it off. He expected her to surreptitiously slip it into the glass that held their bill, but instead, she tucked it into the front pocket of Mason’s jeans.

“You should probably have that so we can coordinate logistics.” She clicked the pen twice. “Now… what should we ruin first?”

CHAPTER SEVEN

LUMBERJACK/LUMBERJANE– Romance science decrees that all persons wearing a red plaid flannel become 42 percent more attractive. If the sleeves are rolled up and the forearms are out, add an additional 17 percent and gird your loins.

Sawyer smiled to herself as she stepped into the elevator, heavy bag of books in hand. Her hand was cramping, but she was too excited to be mad at herself for—yet again—forgetting to come up with a better way of transporting her book haul. The one upside of not writing was it left her even more time to read, and she was burning through books faster than ever.

The trip to the Christkindlmarket had lit a spark in her. She still wasn’t writing, but her fingers twitched, the seed of an idea growing in the back of her mind so long as she didn’t look at it too closely. Instead, she decided to feed it. If she was going to write a holiday rom-com, she was going all out.

She’d always loved Christmas, but she hadn’t properly decorated in years. Not since Sadie. They’d decorated to the nines when they were together, taking in all their other friends whose only family were of the found variety. While she’d lost her friends in the breakup, she hadn’t lost her love of Christmas. It had always seemed like a lotof effort to decorate just for herself, but maybe if she decorated hard enough, the first draft of her book would write itself.

In addition to tearing through books all week, she’d watched an inhumane amount of rom-coms to brainstorm things to ruin with Mason. While she was studying tropes and clichés, she suspected Mason had simply contributed actual dates and grand gestures he’d done. She was beginning to think he truly was a walking, talking, bodice-ripping romance hero, replete with abs.

They’d been texting back and forth all week, trying to combine multiple clichés into one outing to get as much bang for their buck as possible. In the spirit of Christmas, she’d made a list and checked it twice:

Mission: (un)Romance:

1. Christmas Tree Farm

This would accomplish two things: getting her tree and ruining the setting for half of Hallmark’s Christmas movies. Mason wearing a red flannel was nonnegotiable.

2. Ice-Skating in Millennium Park

Sawyer was horrible at ice-skating but Mason said that only made it more on brand for a rom-com—and easier for her to make Not Fun. She relented only when he promised to bring a thermos of spiked cider.

3. New Year’s Eve Midnight Kiss

Sawyer wasn’t a big fan of New Year’s in general, but Mason was practically written by Nora Ephron, and thus she couldn’t ethically leave him unchaperoned for one of the most impossible-to-be-single moments of the year, or else he was sure to relapse into hopeless romanticism.

4. IKEA Shopping

They agreed500 Days of Summerwasn’t a romance, but still worth crossing off the list, just to be safe. Plus, Mason needed a new end table or something.

5. Musical Number???

This one was still up in the air as neither of them liked grand public displays, receiving or performing. They agreed to draw straws on it later.

6. Notecard Scene fromLove, Actually

Sawyer was adamant that this scene was creepy and weird, but Mason insisted it was too iconic to leave unruined.

That was as far as she’d gotten. It turned out to be a lot harder than Sawyer anticipated, and she wasn’t sure how they were going to pull half of them off. There were no fairs or carnivals this time of year, so Mason couldn’t win her a giant stuffed bear. The closest thing was the Christkindlmarket, and they’d already done that. They couldn’t dance and kiss in the rain, because they’d agreed their “no sex” rule should include all intimacy—with one exception.

The New Year’s Eve kiss felt like too big a cliché tonotincludeit. Mason already had plans for the night—some work party—and had updated his RSVP to include her. Thank God, too, because Sawyer’s only New Year’s invite was from Lily, but it was also Lily’s first wedding anniversary, and if Sawyer exposed Mason to Lily and Beau’s marital bliss, all their work to ruin romance would be undone with one sappy look. She’d suggested being Mason’s fake girlfriend at the NYE party to knock out another classic cliché, but he’d gotten weirdly cagey about it, so she dropped it.

Stepping out of the elevator, she hauled her sack of books to the bar, heaving it on top and waiting for Alex to finish up with a guest.

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