Page 14 of If This Was a Movie

“Beg to differ. That’s how they decide those kinds of things. It’s got Christmas, it’s a Christmas movie. It’s got sappy love shit, it’s a romance movie.”

My eyes go wide with his wholly inaccurate statement. “So you’re saying any movie with a romance subplot is a romance movie?”

“Hell yeah.Top Gunmight as well be a chick flick.”

I throw a chocolate chip at the back of his head. “That’s…that’s sacrilegious.”

“I feel like that might be a small exaggeration.”

Even though he can’t see it, I shake my head, aghast. “Not at all. At this point, I find it necessary to warn you, I am an expert of all things romance movies.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your favorite?” He turns off the water as he sets the last dish into the drying rack, grabbing a dish towel to dry off his hands as he turns, leaning on the counter across from me and crossing his arms on his chest.

I think genuinely about his question for a moment before I answer.

“It depends on my mood, I guess. Do I want a Christmas movie? A contemporary? A romantic comedy? Or are we going by decade—’80s? ’90’s? 2000s? A Nora Ephron? A Nancy Meyers?”

His smile goes wider with each addition like he finds me wholly entertaining.

“Wow, I didn’t know there were so many things to ponder.”

“Oh, the list is endless.”

“Okay, so, Christmas movies. What’s your favorite?”

“Love Actually, obviously.Serendipityis second best. I love the whole invisible string theory, always pulled together despite not being together, you know?”

“Mm, yeah,” he says. “So is that what you want? A romance that’s movie-worthy, some invisible string kind of relationship?”

I shrug, not wanting to take this from fun and silly to something too much for having just met him. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

He takes me in for a moment before pushing off the counter and walking to me, standing between my legs and holding my gaze. “That’s a lie,” he says low. “Like a bold-faced lie, Jules. Something tells me you always know exactly what you want.You’re just scared someone’s going to belittle you when you tell them.”

I think about telling my ex about First Position and my dreams for my little business and having him tell me it was a silly idea, a waste of time.A fun hobby, Julianne, but not something to devote your life to.

I think about telling my mother I wanted to find love, true love, instead of the security she always told me to settle for and her scoffing at the mere idea.

Might as well scare him off now.

“I want…I want to be loved madly. I want to live a movie-worthy life and wake up knowing every single day it’s my reality. I want to find someone I wake up every morning excited to spend time with. I want someone who loves everything about me, even the parts I don’t like. Some people in my life…they think I’m being crazy, that I’m being unrealistic, and that’s fine. I know one day, I’ll find it, even if it takes a lifetime. I refuse…I refuse to settle for less than I deserve.” I stare at him, the way he’s silently taking me in, and suddenly feel self-conscious, like I said much, much more than I should have.

“I’m sorry, that was…a lot for a first date,” I say with a self-deprecating laugh and turn away, desperate for some kind of escape.

God, why am I this way?

But then his hand moves, grabbing my face and turning it so I have to look at him.

“I think we’re well past the first date,” he says with a smile.

“Yeah, I guess. But dumping all of that on you isn’t exactly cool or coy or mysterious.”

He keeps staring at me, his rough thumb brushing over my bottom lip gently, and I fight the urge to look away again.

“Do you feel it?” he asks in a whisper.

“What?”

“This…pull. There’s something between us.” My heart skips a beat. “It’s crazy, Jules. I wasn’t planning on going to the bar last night, but I walked past and couldn’t stop it, like there was some thread tugging me right to you.”

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