Page 74 of The True Love Experiment

It’s hard to find the right man after writing the perfect hero.

Even the simplest “I don’t have a lot of time for a relationship” doesn’t come to me in time. I feel caught in the headlights out here in the clinking hum of cocktail hour at my younger sibling’s wedding. In this gown that Connor so carefully buttoned up for me, and with my family all around me, and carrying these new, enormous feelings, I’d felt invincible—but oh, right. I’m the unmarried spinster.How easy it is to knock down and reshape someone with a few sharp words.

“I think it’s hard for someone in the public eye to find a good fit.” Connor steps in smoothly. “Fizzy is understandably careful.”

Ashley snorts. “Oh my God, you are so sweet. But I mean Fizzy used to date literally everyone.”

“Yeah,” he says with a cute bursting laugh. “Because everyone wants to date her.”

Ashley’s face does a thing. It’s a barely restrainedUh, okay, buddy. It’s a laugh held in.

Connor’s smile remains, but it doesn’t look totally natural anymore. “Do you read her books?”

Ashley shakes her head. “Oh, I don’t read books with just romance in them; I need there to be some plot, too.”

He goes quietly stony. “There’s plenty of plot. And Fizzy’s are the gold standard.” I stare up at him with fondness. This liar, still pretending he’s read my books.

“Oh, I’m sure—”

He rolls on and somehow manages to cut her off without leaving an insult in the air. “People think romances are just about sex—and some are, which is fine—but they’re also about social change and challenging the status quo, such as who the world thinks deserves a happily ever after.”

“And pirates,” I say, my heart glowing like a Vegas billboard inside my rib cage. “Don’t forget pirates.”

“And sometimes pirates.” He smiles down at me before turning back to Ashley. “Fizzy’s one of the best writers I’ve ever read, and has millions of readers.” His hand makes a slow circle on my back.Does he even know he’s doing it? It’s making me dizzy with want. “She did the network a favor by agreeing, and the ratings are entirely due to her on-screen charisma with every one of the contestants.” He laughs, and it’s smooth and round. “God, I sound like such a producer, don’t I?” He waves himself away with a self-deprecating grin. “Well, anyway, I’ll stop bragging about her now. It was very nice to meet you, Amy.”

With a firm hand, he leads me away.

I allow myself to be guided back up the grassy path and indoors to where a band plays during cocktail hour. Connor nabs us two flutes of champagne off a passing tray and hands me one.

“That was swoony,” I tell him.

“I literally just grabbed it from a tray. Christ, raise your bar a little.”

Laughing, I smack his beefy shoulder with my free hand. “Not that. The way you gently dragged her back there.”

Connor takes a sip, eyes on me, swallows. “I understand her preconceived notions because I used to share them. It wasn’t based on anything factual—I’d never actually read a romance novel. I’m guessing she hasn’t, either.”

“So what happened?”

“Nat set me straight, and I read your books.”

“Yeah, but only, like, one of them.”

“I’ve readalmostall of them.” He smiles down at me. “There are quite a lot.”

I pause with the flute pressed to my lips. Champagne bubbles pop and tickle my skin. “What?”

“I told you I would.”

“Yeah, but that’s just a thing people say.”

He shakes his head. “Not me.”

“And your preconceived notions?”

He takes a drink of champagne, head tipped back, neck flexing. Drink lowered again, he meets my gaze. “I can admit when I’m wrong.”

I can hear my pulse in my ears. Is this thirty-seven-year-old Fizzy’s kink? Honesty, accountability, and open communication? “That woman back there? Her name was Ashley, by the way, not Amy.”

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