Page 5 of The Best Book Boyfriend
“Jesus,” I feel my cheeks redden. “I didn’t think I’d be performing this public education service today.” He laughs loudly, and I’m surprised at how much I like it. It instantly puts me at ease.
“In stories written for the male gaze, the women are generally sexual objects, nothing more than tits and arse. It’s all about how she looks, and how she can benefit the men. But when stories are written for the female gaze, our needs come first. They focus on emotional connection, intimacy, desire.”
“Ah, I get you. So that’s what women want, is it?”Is he flirting? Am I?I didn’t think so, but I rarely talk to men who aren’t clients or my dad so I couldn’t actually tell what I was doing.
“Well, everyone is different, of course. Personally, I live for the sexual tension, chemistry, and great banter between characters. There’s not the instant gratification of porn. It would be boring if they start shagging right away. I like it when an author gets me invested with slow burn, pining, miscommunication between the main characters, inner conflicts to overcome.”
“So it’s not all maidens in peril and army majors rutting in the stables.” Well, that made me laugh. He’d given himself away there. Clearly, he hassomeknowledge of the genre.
“What on earth have you been reading? No. The best ones handle consent in a super hot way, and often the characters help each other overcome their personal traumas on the way to the bedroom. Those are my favourite.”
He paused for a second, then pulled his notepad and pen out of his shirt pocket. I watched as he chewed his lip and scribbled something down. “It sounds like I’ve got a lot to learn.” When he tore off the paper, he folded it in half, leaned in close, and tucked it between the pages of my book. “This is my number. Text me your recommendation.”
Jesus, why was that so hot?I could feel red heat creeping up the back of my neck. “I’m going to recommend three books,” I said, boldly.
“Great,” he said, standing. “I’m not afraid of hard work.” I had to pinch back a laugh, knowing full well that a lot of these books probably would make him hard. He tucked his chair back under the table. “I’d better get back to work. The boss can’t be slacking off for too long.”
“Oh, this isyourplace? It’s lovely, you’ve done a fantastic job with it. Great buns. Cinnamon buns!”Fuck, I’m an embarrassment.
“It was lovely to meet you, enjoy the rest of your day,” he said with a wink that felt like an arrow shot between my legs. And then he was gone, off somewhere in the back of the cafe.
He’d left me all hot and flustered, but I tried to keep my cool. When I glanced around the room, I spotted the clock above the counter. We’d been chatting for so long I was going to be late for my meeting. I’m never late. I shoved my book away, wrestled my cardigan back on, and tried not to trip over my own feet on the way out the door.
“Good lord, that is hot!” says Hattie. “I thought you were about to ride him on the table.”
“Hardly.” After replaying the afternoon, I’m feeling confused. I enjoyed our chat, but then I felt so awkward and weird and maybe I was even a bit rude?
I lie down on the floor, and Megan positions herself behind me, stroking my long hair. She’s done this countless times when I’ve been in the throes of despair. “What are you going to do?” she says, softly.
“I don’t know. I was all awkward and uncomfortable.”
“Why?”
“I’m just not used to men talking to me. I was confused.”
“Oh honey, that’s not confused. That’s horny,” says Hattie, topping up the glass of wine she has drained while I’ve recounted the afternoon’s events. “You have to go out with him.”
“I’m not going out with him. I’m sworn off men.”
“Kara, we love you babe, but it’s been months since Adam left...”
“A year soon,” I interrupt, though I’m not sure why I’m helping her prove her point.
“Wow, really?” Megan counts the months on her fingers. “Oh my gosh, Hattie, it is nearly a year.”
“So?” A year is just a number, I don’t need them treating it like some milestone or achievement. I sit up and finish my glass. Hattie fills it up again.
“OK, don’t hate us. But back when you first swore off men, we had a private conversation and agreed we’d give you a year,” she says.
“A year of what?”
“A year to wallow. A year to miss Adam, to grieve, whatever you needed.” Megan kisses the top of my head. “But you are far too amazing and kind and successful and badass andfartoo gorgeous to be tucked up in bed with a Book Boyfriend every night. We think you should start meeting people.”
“And fucking people,” Hattie interjects. It’s easy for her to say, she’s always got a string of men on the go, and no problem keeping feelings out of the bedroom. “You seriously need to get laid.”
“Ugh. I don’t want to meet people. I know it’s ridiculous, but Adam is the only man I’ve ever loved. He’s the only man I’ve ever slept with. I don’t know how to be with anyone else.” My eyes are welling up and I stave off tears with the heel of my hand. “I know how pathetic I sound. How pathetic I am.”
“Listen to me,” Megan squeezes me tight. “You arenotpathetic.”
