Blind Date with a Book Boyfriend

by Lucy Eden

“Who are you, the ghost of book boyfriends past?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. He responded with a deep chuckle that was contagious.

“I’m just a guy who reads a lot of romance novels.” “Huh.” I nodded suspiciously. My initial guess was that this man was buying a gift for a wife or girlfriend. Maybe I was being sexist. Why can’t men read romance novels?

She gave me the pointed look that every woman knows is code for Is this asshole bothering you, because I have a bat and a shovel?

“So, tell me about your first time,” I said with a smirk. His smile faltered, and his shocked expression made me laugh again. “Reading a romance novel.” He narrowed his eyes at me, and his lips curled into a smile. “That’s not fair. You get to make half-baked virginity jokes and I don’t?” “I don’t make the rules.” I shrugged. “Well, my buddy’s marriage was in trouble.” He sighed and I felt my heart tug. “So a bunch of us guys started reading romance novels to help him win his wife back.” That was incredibly sweet and somehow vaguely familiar, but I didn’t know why. “He’s a famous baseball player and he was away all the time—” “Are you Kaiser Söze-ing me?” “What? No?” He smiled. “Really, because that’s definitely the plot of The Bromance Book Club.” I pointed to the Lyssa Kay Adams book on the shelf next to him.

I’ve read enough romance novels to think that this was a great idea, but I’ve also listened to enough episodes of My Favorite Murder to think the exact opposite.

I wonder if this is how it feels when you meet the person you will eventually fall in love with, or when you meet the person who is about to murder you.

She tried to rescue me, but I was led out of the store and to my death by dimples.

There’s never a right time, a perfect amount of money, or an instruction manual. There’s only love and everything in life is an unpredictable leap of faith.”

Mike had kissed me like it was the most important thing he would ever do in his life.

“Were you thinking about Chris Evans when you were kissing me?” Mike asked with a smirk when we left the theater, hand in hand. “Do you want me to say no, or tell you the truth?”

“Do you consider yourself an alpha, beta, cinnamon roll, alphahole or rake?”

“Wait, go back to your rake phase.” “Ugh. I’m not proud of it, but I was a horny college kid who’d spent most of my teenage years reading books that contained a lot of different ways to seduce and satisfy women.” “You used your powers for evil.”

“I would dive into a million fountains for you, baby doll.”

“Nice means I’m sober enough to consent to a sexual encounter but tipsy enough that I don’t care that I’m wearing giant gray cotton underwear that may or may not have a hole in them.”

“And what happens if I get the job?” “We sign a disclosure form and avoid each other like the plague.” “And if I don’t?” “Then I spend a lot of time and money flying back and forth to New York to try to convince you to forgive me and give me a second chance.”

White Whiskey Bargain, Pink Slip, Everything She Never Wanted and starting to re-read Indigo

Mike (He/Him/His) Brother. Son. Friend. Large Child. Master of Disguise. Kiss Thief. Hopeful Romantic.

Come to the bookstore. I sighed and stared at my phone’s screen before typing: I don’t think that’s a good idea. Another immediate response came. It’s a very bad idea, but I’m gonna wait there all day until you show up.

No amount of logical reasoning would justify giving up the opportunity of a lifetime for a man who’d spent a day sweeping me off my feet.

“If I went on those interviews, I’d be condoning your terrible behavior.” “I would do a million terrible things for you, baby doll.”