Page 5 of Book Boyfriends
“Our happiness shouldn’t be contingent on another person, especially when most people fail you or won’t always be there.” He leans back and his lopsided smile flattens into a firm line. A wisp of sadness shades his expression.
I bite back the urge to say, “Who hurt you?” The wounded male main character whose heart just needs a plucky love interest to heal him may cause a flutter in my belly in a book, but in real life, it’s a red flag. We’ll add this to the many reasons there will be no second date with Davis. Skeptical men with emotional baggage are for my books, not my heart. It’s already been tattered by one commitment-phobic man. It doesn’t need another.
“It’s unrealistic to wrap one’s happiness up in a single person. Romance just feeds us the delusion that it is.” Forehead pinched, he waves another half-eaten fry between us.
“The happy ending in a romance isn’t just about the couple. Yes, that’s part of it. We root for them, but it’s about their individual journeys. It’s also about their relationships with others, not just each other or themselves. The best romances show that.”
“Again, that’s not real life. Most people are on their own.”
“It’s some people’s lives.”
“Not everyone is lucky enough to live in a fairy tale, Georgia,” he says, his voice a little gruff.
Indignation simmers in my bloodstream. What Davis knows about me wouldn’t fill a page’s footnote. My life is hardly a fairy tale. If it were, I’d be here with someone else—the someone else who, despite my hope and heartbreak, is now someone else’s Prince Charming. Instead, I’m here with Davis.
“I’m well aware.” I meet his stare.
“Are you?”
“Very much so,” I hiss through a tight smile.
So predictable.It’s as if it’s in one of my books. He’s the jaded finance bro, and I’m the hurt but still hopeful romance author. The girl who believes so much in happy endings that she spends hours crafting them. Happy endings may be my business, but none of my characters get them without getting a little scrappy.
Scrappiness isn’t something I’m known for, at least with my friends and family. But Davis is neither.He’sjust a bad date, and I’m done with bad dates.
My mouth curves into a sardonic grin. “You’re right, though. Life isn’t a romance novel. In one of my books, a handsome stranger who turns out to bemylove interest would have rescued me already from thisterribledate. From a date with a man who spent the first twenty minutes checking his phone and the next twenty insulting me.” I drain my drink and slam the glass onto the table with athwack.
“I didn’t insult you?—”
“Nothing makes me swoon like someone referring to what I write aslacking substance.” Expression tight, I scoot from my chair and grab my purse from where it’s hooked on the back. “But since this isn’t one of my books and it’s real life, I’ll rescue me.”
“Wait, Georgia… Are you leaving?”
“Yes. Whatever favor you did for my brother, please consider it paid.” I pull out fifteen dollars from my wallet and toss it onto the table. “For my drink. You can pay for the fries since your double-dipping ensured I wasn’t touching them. Manners dictate that you forgo double-dipping of a shared condiment until after the first kiss. Everyone knows that.”
“Wait? Kiss?” Befuddlement laces his words.
“Neverhappening.” I sling my purse over my shoulder. “Though, maybe you’re right about that too… I’ve never kissed you, but I can say for certain I would not enjoy it… I like a man with more substance.”
And with that, I turn and march out.
CHAPTER TWO
MAKE A WISH
Warm air kisses my skin with each step, easing the post-bad date tension. In the fifteen minutes since I left a gaping Davis, the interaction has played on repeat. Moving down the front entrance walkway trimmed in leafy succulents, Davis’s words hiss inside me. A whoosh of cool air mixed with the scent of disinfectant and lavender greets me as I step through St. Philip Neri’s front doors.
At the front desk, Kerry, the receptionist, peers over a copy ofThe Duke’s Darling. “Lord James better not die in this duel, Georgia. Someone promised me a happy ending,” she titters.
Kerry is as obsessed with romance novels as I am. She and a few other staff have read my books. Mortification may twinge when they mention my books’ saucy parts, but their support makes the blush worth it. If only everyone in my life was as supportive of my writing.
“Have I ever let you down?” I tease.
“No, but you cut it close when Selena left Owen back in Sugarville.”
“But she came back.” I wink.
“And that epilogue!” She fans herself with the paperback. “Only thing better is that scene in the pond fromShifted Heart.”
