Mister Romance by Amelia Simone (the reading list .txt) 📕

I’d remember to dress today. Something every fully functioning adult does on a Tuesday, I’m sure. Pants, check. Shirt, check. No visible stains. I felt my chin. I hadn’t shaved in a while, but that was normal, so check.

Jimmy grinned when I opened the door. “You remembered.”

I smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, it helped that I finished my latest project today. Head’s finally out of it.”

He snorted. “So that means I won’t have to answer any more fire protection procedural questions, right?”

I laughed. “But you’re so good at it. You make my research easy. Speaking of which, I owe you a beer. Let’s head downtown.”

I could always count on Jimmy to share a few work stories that ran from mildly horrifying to hilarious. On the drive to dinner, he explained how his crew had handled a brush fire on a nearby highway that shut down traffic for hours.

Jimmy was a badass. We played soccer together in school, and I was known for my speed and agility. I could handle the ball well and played midfield. Jimmy was a striker, aggressive and fast on the field. I could see him running into a burning building and never giving up on potential survivors. His love of winning also made him competitive when we played video games, which was a blessing when he was on my team and a curse in individual play.

We walked into the Haven Brewery downtown and found a free booth. Low ceilings and dark wood gave the restaurant an earthy ambience. The space was cozy on rainy days like today.

He waited for our food to arrive before asking, “Any new ladies in your life?”

“Only the fictional ones,” I acknowledged.

“I don't get it, man. If I were you, I’d be at the coffee shop every weekend with an advance copy of my next book, pretending to read. I would casually mention to any cute women that I happened to be the author of the book.”

“You think they’d believe that?” I asked.

“With an advance copy of an unreleased book? I’d hope so. Then you could go on about how you’re all sensitive and shit. Your sex scenes show you clearly know how to treat a woman.”

I shook my head at him. “I love the fantasy, but I don’t see that ending well for me. With a woman I just met? I think I’d get a dirty look goodbye. Maybe a face full of coffee for my trouble.”

It was his turn to shake his head. “Man, you’ve got to try. I’m pretty sure the only date you’ve had for years—other than your hand—has been with me, and I don’t swing that way.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, it’s been established that you like women. It’s hard to meet people. Especially women people. Look around. Everyone is either already with someone or staring at their phone like it contains life’s answers.”

Jimmy laughed ruefully. “To be fair, I’m convinced Google does have all the answers. However, do you ever introduce yourself to new women?”

I gave him a dry look. “You’ve met me. My best dialogue happens between the pages, not in real life. I’m not exactly at Raj levels of shyness, where I have to drink to be able to talk to women, but it’s damn close. Last time I tried it was horrifying. I approached a woman reading and commented on how nice it was she could read. Only after the words left my mouth did I realize they were condescending as hell, and not what I intended.” My shoulders scrunched near my ears as I sank into my seat in remembrance as Jimmy broke into laughter. The bastard.

“It only got worse from there. I couldn’t shut up. For some reason I complained that everyone who wasn’t reading was lazy, and how I wished I could slap them silly for it. I sounded like a violent asshole. Or a pretentious idiot. All I was trying to do was compliment her on her ability to read in a crowd.”

Jimmy shook his head, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “That’s another reason you should hole up at a coffee shop with a good book and let them come to you. See, then you’re not the one doing the talking. Clearly, it’s not your strength. What about an online relationship? Then you can write everything.”

“Yeah, but eventually, I’d have to meet her in person. And then, what happens if there’s no chemistry?”

Jimmy gave me a tough look. “You have to crawl before you learn to walk. Start with baby steps and learn to talk with women. Ideally beyond the printed page. You’re thirty-five. Do you want to be alone forever?”

“Maybe?”

Really, no. Not at all. However, after more than twenty years of romance reading and a few of romance writing, I wasn’t prepared to settle. Eventually I would meet someone I could talk to. There were nearly eight billion people on earth. I had to be capable of connecting with one.

“I can’t imagine my romance writing friend winding up alone. Maybe my sister can introduce you to someone nice?” He sounded doubtful, and I didn’t blame him.

“Do you really think Andi would, after last time?”

“What did you do?” he asked, a protective warning in his voice. I’d known her since we were little, and honestly, I thought of her as my sister too, so I could understand.

“Nothing gross. She had a friend with her at the coffee shop, and it threw me. I panicked and started babbling on about breasts and made everyone uncomfortable. Some gibberish about how if I wrote for The Twilight Zone, breasts would be secretly watching me all the time, the nipples like eyes.”

“Did she delete her number from your phone? You’re lucky she still speaks to you. Then again, maybe you’d prefer she didn’t. Did she leave you any dignity after the nipple nonsense?”

I chuckled. “Pretty sure she said that no one’s nipples were ever going to be interested in me, based on my behavior.”

Jimmy made a face, and probably daunted by my lack