Page 65 of Not Exactly a Small-Town Romance

It fits the trope. Me, trying to find my Hallmark husband. So did the popcorn meet-cute. The barbershop quartet. We got milkshakes, for Pete’s sake.

Then I went off script.

Zachery paces the room like a caged lion, and I know I need to correct his misperception about what went down with Simon.

“I’m okay, Zach.”

He stops walking to look at me. “What happened?”

And there it is.

“Do I have to talk about it?” My voice is a mouse squeak.

He frowns at that and sits next to me. “Of course not. I just need to know if I should assemble an angry mob.”

“It does seem like a tar-and-feather kind of town.”

His body relaxes, his spine less of a tension rod. “Did he hurt you? Did something happen?”

I shake my head. “No. I mean, we made out a little.” I press my hand to my chest to steady my breath. I have to say it. My next wordstumble out in a rush. “I might have lost my panties in the grass beneath the bleachers.”

Zach stands straight up, like he’s been jerked by a string. “Your what?”

I stand up next to him. “I know. I blew it. Nobody drops their underwear within two hours of a meet-cute. Not even Anastasia Steele.”

“Anastasia?”

“Fifty Shades. Look, I know that was too fast. I got caught up in the moment. I did it all wrong.”

“You? Or him?” Zachery goes still right in the middle of pushing his hair off his forehead.

I put on my best pleading look. “Can we forget about Simon? That deal is done, between you punching him and me ... I don’t know.”

Zachery sighs and resumes his place at my side. “Will you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Okay.” I kick off my shoes and unclip the bow from my hair. Might as well get comfortable as I confess my crimes against love stories everywhere.

Zach follows suit, leaving his two-toned loafers on the floor.

We lie sideways on the bed, facing each other, both propped up on our elbows like we’re best girlfriends at a sleepover.

“We did lots of normal date things. Got milkshakes, listened to the band, played some of the games.” I hold out my wrist, which is encircled with a green plastic bracelet. “He won this at the ring toss.”

Zach grunts.

“We were holding hands, and it was nice, you know? Then he kissed me by the train the kids were riding.”

Zach’s lips twitch, and he seems angry still, but I keep going.

“I made a joke about how we were around the little kids, and he asked if I wanted to go someplace quieter. I said I did.”

I snap my fingers. “That’s where I went wrong. Right there. I should have said no. Stuck to the script. Nobody loses their panties on the first date when it’s true love.”

“I’m not sure it was true—”

I’m not listening. “I did the wrong bases!” I can see it. “Normally there are first, second, and third in dating. The kiss. The boobs. You know! But in Hallmark movies, the bases are different.”

“Kelsey, are you all right?”

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