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

My other patient wasn’t as far along but needed a lot of help. Her husband was deployed overseas, and her support person hadn’t been reachable at first. Her friend was now on the way, and I was glad. My heart went out to those mamas who delivered on their own. I did my best to help them feel supported and encouraged, but my heart ached for them. I always worried about what would happen when they left the hospital, and hoped they’d have the support they needed.

Witnessing the joy and pain in the delivery room had me questioning if I wanted kids. I had a front row seat to one of life’s biggest changes—becoming a parent. Struggling to keep a commitment to dance classes and take the odd romantic risk was nothing compared to parenting. I watched the supportive partners, the reluctant or scared ones, and those deeply in love. All had one thing in common. They were letting a piece of their hearts leave their body, housed in a fragile infant. It was hard to imagine that risk and commitment, let alone someone loving me enough to scour late-night stores to bring me exactly the right music.

After my shift, I was glad to see a message from Chase. It was still a struggle adjusting to his real identity. I’d thought of him as Virginia for so long, and every time I saw a notification from @VirginiaRothman I suffered a moment’s confusion, remembering who was actually behind the avatar. I needed to ask him if he wanted me to keep his identity a secret among my friends and family. If not, I was going to need a different story for how we met before the wedding.

I blew out a heavy breath. Nick’s wedding. The countdown was on; it was only three weeks out. I still didn’t have a dress, and Gina was threatening to take me shopping. Going with the flow would mean hours of Gina pressuring me into a long, formal gown more appropriate for senior prom than a family wedding. Her eyes lit up when she showed me pictures on her phone of mermaid gowns with a full bodice of sequins. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I wasn’t tall enough to pull off either. But it was hard to resist her enthusiasm and inevitably I agreed to meet up with her on our next day off if I didn’t magically find something before then.

I still owed Chase a debrief on my family before the wedding too. It was only fair to let him know what he was getting in to. I stared glumly at his earlier message, trying to work up the enthusiasm to face family talk. It wasn’t that my family was awful. They’d be perfectly pleasant to him, minus a few pointed questions. There’d be a razor-sharp stiletto or two, but most would be paper cuts. Annoying, but not deep. I clicked back into my messages to find his unanswered request.

VirginiaRothman: Would you have some more time for me this week? Maybe get wedding info?

My stomach churned. Seeing Chase again would be great. Talking with him about my family, revealing how they saw me? Not so great. If he suggested any other reason to meet, I would have jumped at the chance to see him again.

TamraRN: Sure.

Yikes. He deserved more than lukewarm acceptance. After all, he was doing me a favor, and I liked Chase. Too much. He was a little goofy, but that seemed to make him more accepting of my oddball verbal tangents. I respected his passion and commitment to his work. I was less enthused about him hiding behind his Virginia Rothman identity, but I didn’t know the ins and outs of the publishing world. Maybe that was normal? I tried to redirect the conversation, hoping to take the focus away from my family.

TamraRN: Ask me anything. I always have answers. They might be wrong, but I’ll confidently answer. Maybe we could cook together at my place this time? I need lessons!

It was late, and I didn’t expect him to reply. Good little writers were probably in bed at—I looked at my watch—two thirty in the morning. My phone buzzed with his response before I finished my thought.

VirginiaRothman: It would be my pleasure. 

My pulse raced contemplating his pleasure. I could think of all kinds of things I’d like to learn about him. Like how salty his skin would be. If the muscles in his chest were as firm as I remembered from our first hug.

Stop it.

He was doing me a favor. Maybe multiple favors if we were cooking together too. That’s where it would end. As friends. Meeting my family and learning that I was the boring one, the quitter, the underachiever, was sure to be a turn-off. I ignored the voice that said I was quitting before we’d even begun. I replied with a day that worked for me before eating a quick dinner and winding down with a book before bed. Without realizing the irony, I’d downloaded a new romance novel with a fake wedding date trope, and without warning, my visualization of the hero transitioned from a brown-eyed, heavily-muscled security consultant protecting the heroine into a lankier, blue-eyed, messy-haired writer. The vivid description of each suck, stroke, and nibble stoked images of another wedding date. Another fantasy, yet potent nonetheless. The beauty of reading? No one else would ever know I had damp panties thinking about that mouth.

THAT WEEK’S POLE DANCE class was the fourth and final in the series. With her usual calm, Meghan interrupted our chatting and asked us to take our seats on the yoga mats. She smiled and looked around the room as she shared the week’s ice breaker question.

“What is one thing you’re taking away from this class series that you’re proud of?” She let the question sink in before continuing. “When I started as a student, I was shy. Learning to dance helped me build