Page 36 of How to Write a Rom-Com

“I didnotjust poke myself with the hook,” I recite back to him, biting my thumb.

Liam turns around with a menacing look on his face. When he glances up at me, I force a smile around my thumb. Liam closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly.

It’s moments like these—when I have a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, could-be-on-the-cover-of-a-romance-novel man sitting next to me winking at me—that I feel like I could literally burst out laughing.

Thankfully, I don’t. Count one point for Lucy’s usually lacking self-control.

Elle would call me cynical for even thinking this, but men like Liam don’t exist in real life. Towns like Hudson Hollow don’t exist in real life. These past few weeks have felt like an out-of-body experience, and every time I look at Liam, I’m reminded of just how ridiculous this whole thing is.

I’m an editorial assistant, the lowest man on the totem pole of the publishing industry, being paid to work remotely from a lakeside cabin. I’ve somehow transplanted myself into a Hallmark movie where my neighbor happens to be a real-life blonde-haired, blue-eyed hunk with a tragic past and an adorable family. I cannot wrap my brain around the fact that in a few weeks I’ll be back in the city, where guys who look like Liam are the ones on dating apps who are in open relationships or don’t understand the difference betweenyou’reandyour.

I look down at my phone and see that I missed a call from my mom on my walk over here. “Do you have to take that?” Liam asks, nodding toward my phone.

“Nah, it’s my mom. I’ll call her back later,” I say, putting my phone in my pocket.

“What do your parents think about you being here? They must be jealous that you’re not spending your time off work with them,” he says, fiddling with the fishing line.

“They’re definitely not thrilled about it,” I say with a small laugh. “They very much think my focus should be on my work, not gallivanting in a small town.”

“They’re city people too?”

“Oddly enough, no. I grew up in the suburbs. I guess I thought of it as a small town, until coming here. Now I know what puts thesmallinsmall town.” I shake my head, hating the way I just said that. “Not that I think there’s anything bad about it—”

“Kind of sounds like you do,” Liam replies, obviously a little peeved.

“No, or… I don’t know. I’m starting to see that a small town has its perks.” I pause, gauging his reaction. “Growing up, I was an only child, and I was lonely a lot. More than I think my parents ever knew. When I moved to the city, I thought my problem would be solved. I was on an island with millions of people. I’d read so many books where the characters wereenrapturedby Manhattan, the sense of community, the hidden treasures, the experiences only New York could offer. But I didn’t find any of that when I got there.” I pause, thinking about the early days when I moved to Manhattan, trying and failing to make connections with people, desperately searching for that once-in-a-lifetime feeling that I’d seen so many characters in movies and books experience. “I felt lonelier than I ever had in my life.” Liam watches me intently as I speak, and I know he is analyzing every word I say. “But here, I see that sense of community. It’s really something special.”

Liam absorbs every word that comes out of my mouth like he’s calculating something in his mind or trying to store my sentences in the memory bank behind his eyes. When I stop speaking, he looks at me quizzically.

“Why do you have that look on your face?” he asks me, furrowing his brows. It’s only then that I realize my brows are scrunched too. I’m not sure how to answer him, because I’m a bit taken aback by myself. Why did I just say all of that? What possessed me to choose this moment to become the over-sharer that Elle is always pushing me to be?

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just surprised I said that. I’m not usually very forthcoming with my feelings. That’s what my friend Elle says anyway.”

When Liam smirks at me, the answer is clear.

It’s him. Liam brings out the truth in me.

“Well,” he starts, gazing out over the water. “I don’t know about feelings, but it seems like what you’re saying is that Hudson Hollow is where you need to be right now. I believe that.”

“That sounds like something Elle would say too,” I say with a smile. “She’s always manifesting things into the universe and whatnot.”

“I’d love to meet her one day,” Liam says with a smile. “And I’m just going to say this,” he says, placing his fishing pole against his chair and leaning toward me with his elbows on his knees. I stifle a gasp when his knee bumps mine. “I don’t think you have anything to be afraid of. With your parents, New York, anything. When I look at you I see someone who moved to one of the most intimidating cities on her own.” I nod at the questioning tone in his voice. “Then she had the courage to come to a strange place all by herself and open herself up to this community. That’s bravery. That’s what I see, Lucy Bowen.”

I don’t say anything right away, because how does one respond to that? Liam lets our legs nudge each other without breaking his gaze. I can’t help but look away. The weight of his eyes makes my stomach flutter. As soon as I look down, Liam’s hand reaches out and gently brushes a piece of my hair behind my ear. My eyelids shoot open and my eyes find his.

“Liam—ahh!” My hand jolts forward with a thrust from my fishing line. Liam jumps up like he’s assessing the surrounding area for danger. I grab the pole with both hands and try to resist the pull of the taut line. I stand up and frantically look at Liam. “What do I do? What do I do?” I scream. Blue jumps up and barks, his big paws pitter-pattering in rhythm with my flip-flops on the wooden boards.

“First of all, calm down,” Liam says, wrapping his arms around me and covering my hands with his. “I’ll hold the pole; you reel it in.”

I remind myself to exhale when I feel Liam’s strong chest behind me and the flex of his arms on my shoulders. “Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness,” I mutter, keeping my left hand under Liam’s and moving the other to the reel. Liam’s hand clenches over mine as the tug on the other end of the line becomes stronger, and I feel a warmth as I admire his strong fingers. They’re full of dirt from rummaging in the bait box, but they’re perfect and strong, and everything that the heroine in a romance novel would admire. I laser my focus on the task at hand and reel the line in the direction Liam showed me. As it gets a few feet away, the water beneath it stirs and a small fish emerges on the other end of my line. I swing the pole over the dock and thrust it into Liam’s hands.

“Oh my God! It’s flipping around!” I squeal, watching the poor creature helplessly flop over and over on the wooden surface. “Why does anyone do this? This ishorrible!”

Liam chuckles and grabs the line with his hand, leading the fish into a bucket of water he’s set aside and that I, shockingly, haven’t managed to knock over with my outburst. “So, I guess that means you don’t want to take the hook out then, huh?” he asks playfully.

Blue barks and paws at the bucket as Liam sticks his hands in and somehow emerges with the other end of the fishing line. He puts his hands up with a shrug and shows me the hook. “And that’s how it’s done.”

“That was so stressful. It was like amassacre!”

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