Page 61 of Just My Type of wrong guy

“Musicals are all dancing and singing and jazz hands. Music movieshavemusic, but they’re not constantly bursting into song.”

“SoLa La Landis okay? Or more likeThe Greatest Showman?”

“I’ll give those a pass. But I prefer moviesaboutmusic. LikeEmpire Records. You know?”

“I’m offended you even asked — it’s a classic! And now I know exactly what we’re watching tomorrow!” I say, alreadyplanning to make this girl spend the night singingThat Thing You Doafter we watchThe Wonders.

“What are we watching?” she asks, clearly intrigued.

“You’ll find out tomorrow,” I tease, pulling away dramatically.

But she climbs right on top of me.

On. Top. Of. Me.

She’s literally killing me.

“Seriously, Anthony?”

Bingo.

“If you keep calling me that, wewillhave a problem…”

“That’s your name. What’s so bad about it?” she asks, finally moving off me to sit at the other end of the couch, clearly annoyed.

“I’m a six-foot-something bisexual rockstar.”

“And?”

“And ‘Anthony’ sounds like a forty-five-year-old lawyer on his third divorce with four kids.”

I huff, and she loses it. Laughing so hard I can’t help but smile too.

“Oh my God, that wasweirdly specific.You wanna share something?”

“Nope. I’m serious. Ihatethat name.”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue. Instead, she stands up.

“Alright. Time for bed.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“For you? Always,” she jokes. “C’mon. Walk me to my room.”

She turns and I follow, and when she stops at the door, all wrapped up, I lean in and kiss her forehead.

“You’re done for.”

“And you only have to take three steps now,” she says, and I do – straight into my room.

We close our doors at the same time. I crash into bed, sure I’ll be asleep in seconds.

But when I close my eyes, all I see is Alexandra ’s peaceful face. And it stirs something in me. Something I probably shouldn’t feel. Something I definitely shouldn’t act on.

But it’s there. And it’s not going anywhere.

Chapter Twenty – Alex

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