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

“Sorry,” he said.

Sorry. Shit. Did he think our kiss had been a mistake? An in the moment thing? It’s true I hadn’t consciously decided to move our friendship into new territory but kissing him had felt natural. Hot.

The water splashing over the edge of the sink signaled it was time to focus back on real life, not romantic kitchen kisses. My cheeks felt hot. Kind of like the rest of me. I cleared my throat and shut off the water.

“You don’t need to apologize.”

Chase didn’t seem to know where to look or what to say. Considering words were his stock in trade, the silence was deafening. We washed the few remaining dishes in quiet. I floundered, trying to find something light to break the tension. Something to put us back on friendly footing. My brain was not cooperating. All I could think to say was, “How’s that for research?” I cringed. We packed up the rest of Chase’s things, neither of us brave enough to break the quiet. Chase cleared his throat. “So, I’ll see you for the wedding? Two more weeks, right? Shall I pick you up?”

We made our arrangements and moved toward my entryway. I thanked him again for cooking with me. As we reached my front door, he turned his back to it, his arms full of leftover ingredients and his mixer. “I had fun tonight.” He gave me a shy smile. “Especially the dishes. Maybe we can do it again sometime?” he asked.

“The dishes?” Did that mean he didn’t regret our kiss, apologies to the contrary? I swallowed down my uncertainty and channeled the sultry confidence I’d gained in dance class. “Or the kissing?”

Chase’s chest expanded as he took a deep breath. “Both. If you’re game.”

I relaxed at his obvious uncertainty and let a small smile tilt my lips up. It was reassuring to know I wasn’t the only one struggling to find footing after our kiss in the kitchen. “Sure. Especially if it means you’re cooking.”

He gave one last smile before disappearing into the night with his things.

Later that night, I was getting ready for bed when my phone buzzed with a text from Chase.

Chase: The dishes are looking at me dirty again. Want to come over and help me with mine?

Tamra: You’re on your own this time. They don’t do themselves.

Chase: Now you tell me. I’ve been doing it wrong this entire time.  Thanks for setting me straight.

Tamra: There are some things you do right ...

Chase: Groan. Don’t tell me. I give good hugs?

Tamra: LOL. Something like that.

Chase: No, wait. Something about my pasta attachment? You’re going to give me a complex. Speaking of which, sorry for making it weird tonight. To be clear, I was sorry for almost flooding your kitchen. Everything else was perfect. Better than I imagined.

I bit my lip. My instincts would be the death of me, but I couldn’t resist teasing him.

Tamra: If only the kitchen were the only thing that got wet.

Chase: ...

Chase:

Chase: ...

Too direct. I’d scared him away. The bubbles of his return text kept appearing and disappearing.

Chase: If doing the dishes was a warmup, I can’t wait to dance together at the wedding. This time, without a saucepan chaperone between us. I’ve already seen evidence of your incredible moves ...

I laughed at his last words, ignoring the pinpricks of heat his promise left behind.

Chapter 20 - Tamra

Bad dreams plagued me in the days leading up to Nick’s wedding. You’d think I was the one getting married, based on how anxious I was about a family party. The new dress hanging in my closet mocked me with conflicting desires. The thought of spending more time with Chase made my pulse race, but I wished we were going to be alone instead of on display for all of my relatives. Fantasizing about dancing with him was the one bright spot. The possibility of finding a safe haven in Chase’s arms was the one thing keeping me from calling the whole night off.

Gina and Vicki offered to come play fairy godmother to help me get ready the day of the wedding. I was sorely tempted but didn’t want to take advantage of their generous natures. Instead, I got ready as God intended—with YouTube hair and makeup tutorials. I snapped a few selfies as I finished with my beauty routine and sent them to Gina and Vicki. Mostly to prove I could dress myself, but also for a much-needed confidence boost.

Tamra: Ladies? What’s the verdict? Did I do good? Or YouTube fail?

Gina: Superb. Like you know what you’re doing. You look HOT. And I should know. LOL

Vicki: Now, now. She’s already your work wife. Don’t make me jealous, Gina. 

Tamra: Thanks for the support, I love you both. XOXO

Gina: Don’t get mushy on me. You know I don’t like that. Go out there and knock ‘em slightly comatose. I don’t condone murder.

Tamra: Har, har. Who said nurses don’t have a sense of humor?

Vicki: Everyone. Everyone says that. Why must you also prove it’s true?

Tamra: Oooh. I have one I’ve been saving for you. Why did the nurse bring a red marker to work?

Vicki: Please. Don’t tell me.

Tamra: In case she had to draw blood!

Vicki: *eye rolling emoji* You kill me.

I glanced at the time and gritted my teeth. Chase was supposed to pick me up five minutes ago. My family would never forgive me if we were late for the ceremony. Chase and I had finally exchanged phone numbers, so I sent him a text to make sure he was on his way.

Tamra: Almost here? I’d hate to be late. We’d be banished to the kids table for sure.

Chase: Sorry. Five minutes out. Got wrapped up in a scene.

I tried not to pace while I waited, but I couldn't help it. It wasn’t a big deal that he was late. We wouldn’t miss the ceremony over a five-minute delay. In fact, it could work in my favor if it gave family less time to