Page 38 of Role Play
“Care to elaborate?”
“Readers want fairy tales that suspend reality. It’s hard for me to write that way. I tell stories based on what I know and have experienced. The stuff that’s popular is so far left from what I want from love. That’s why I’m never going to go viral or fit in with all the bookish girlies. I don’t understand all the tropes they hold so dear. I’ve never once fantasized about getting a hand necklace, with my hands cuffed behind my back, while a maskedstalker shoves the thin side of his Louisville slugger between my thighs until I come messily all over it.”
When I hear romance, my mind goes to that Nicholas Sparks book women lose their minds over. Although, that might have more to do with the movie adaptation and Ryan Gosling with his shirt off. Whatever Sora just spewed out sounds like a nightmare that would happen on Elm Street.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
She closes her eyes, her head lolling to the left like it’s loose from her neck. “It’s not important. All I’m saying is I’ve been rejected, ridiculed, and beaten down so much, I’ve lost my mojo. I don’t even enjoy big romantic moments when I write them anymore. They’re all so contrived.” She pumps her brows. “That’s right, mister. I know big words too.”
I chuckle. “Clearly.”
“My point is,” she continues, “I just don’t know what romance readers want. I don’t know how to make them fall in love with me and my stories. It’s useless.”
“I’m at a loss. Seems like it’d be easy to fall in love with you,” I admit. Her eyes grow to startled owl proportions, so I add, “As a reader.”
What the fuck is wrong with me around this girl? It’s all clumsy interactions, and enough word vomit to fill a toilet bowl. I clear my throat, trying to recover. “Your market is mostly women, right?”
“Yeah, so?” she asks defensively, her shoulders tensing.
“I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m simply saying that I may not know what readers like, but I know what women like. That’s why I still have a job.”
Her eyes land very obviously on my crotch. “I think there are more significant reasons you still have a job.”
My mouth twists into a mocking half-smile. “Eyes up here, ma’am.”
She blushes furiously and I’ve found my new favorite game. I’m like a schoolboy with a crush. Every time I catch Sora checking me out, all I have to do is call her out to see her cute cheeks turn red. The cool night air can’t chill the heat that keeps rising in her face.
“All right, I have an idea. But first, do your feet still hurt?”
She shakes her head. “Not remotely. Can’t even feel them. Those gummy bears are magic for achy feet.”
“Good.”
I dart over to the pretzel cart once again, this time with my phone in hand. The metal clinks as I set it on the counter. After pulling up Spotify and selecting a song, I bribe the cart owner with a twenty-dollar bill to plug in my music and turn his speakers up loud. “Press play when she’s on her feet, okay?”
He nods in understanding, tucking the money into his pocket, and I head back to the bench to sweep Sora right off her feet.
“Come on, YourHighness. Up we go.” Cupping my hands under her elbows, I peel Sora off the bench.
“My legs feel like jelly.”
“You had three servings of edibles. It’s a miracle you can feel your legs at all.” I yank her tight against my body and guide us a few strides away from the bench. “It’d probably be best for you to let me lead.”
“Lead what?” she asks, right as the music starts to swell over the cart speakers. Leaning away, her mouth parts in surprise. “We’re dancing? You cheeseball, you’re so lame. And I love this song.”
“That’s a lot of mixed signals, Sora. Do you want to dance or not?” The music fills the empty street, bouncing off the buildings around us.
“Kind of. But I don’t really know how.”
I draw her in close with my hand planked firmly against her lower back. Her dress is silky under my palm. “Just lean into me. I’ll do all the work.”
She rests her cheek against my chest, and hums along a few bars before she murmurs, “This is such a sad song.”
“Why do you think that?” Dido’s “White Flag” rings through the speakers, the melody clear in the night air.
“Because it’s about unrequited love. Listen to the lyrics…she loves someone she’s never going to have.”
“Can you twirl?” I hold her hand tightly.
