ALLIE

“Miss Pleasure?” Jack raises his eyebrows at me as Aimee completes a hugely embarrassing retelling of the incident with Mr. Cooper at school. “Are we talking about the same Allie Jenkins?”

I’m not sure what’s worse: the fact that Aimee shared the awkward encounter with Jack just before our first anti-awkward lesson, or the fact that I’ve brought two non-readers into a bookstore. Aimee and Jack are whispering like rebellious children in a library instead of browsing the titles that are required reading for my second lesson of Romance Academy.

“Focus on the assignment,” I hiss, perusing the shelves myself. “Think classics. Look, Jack, tell me you’ve read this.”

He frowns down at a used copy of Pride and Prejudice.

“Come on,” I prompt him. “It has your name in it.”

“You’re acting like I don’t know two plus two,” Jack says. “I read things, Allie. I just haven’t read much outside of the medical field for years.”

“It has your name in here like a hundred times. What about high school? Didn’t they force you to read it?”

“I was already on the medical track, so I didn’t bother with English when possible.”

“Is he one of those people who’s really smart but has no common sense?” Aimee grabs my arm and pulls me between shelves. “You know, the type where he knew he wanted to do medicine, so he just failed all his other classes?”

“Not really.” I size up Jack.

He’s got a concerned look on his face as he surveys a book with the word vampire in the title. I snatch it from his hands, replacing it once again with the Pride and Prejudice copy he left behind on a shelf.

I turn back to Aimee. “He’s the smartest person I know. It’s not fair.”

“Plus, he has money?!” Aimee whispers. “And looks? He definitely has all the looks. He got hit with the good-looks stick on his way down to earth, I think. God gave him—”

“I get it. He’s got the looks, the brains, and the cash,” I say, sounding annoyed. Partly because it’s true. Jack’s eyes are a dark, brooding sort of gray, and his face—especially while reading—is calculating and concerned. “He’s also got the house—er, the condo.”

“Let me get this straight.” Aimee ticks off her fingers as she counts. “He’s smart, good-looking—scratch that—great looking, he’s got money coming out of his ears and a condo with a view that’d melt my panties off.”

“Pretty much.”

“So, what’s the catch?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know...” She nods in his direction. “What’s wrong with Prince Charming?”

“Not a thing.”

“Hold on a minute.” Aimee grabs my arm again and drags me into the erotica section of the bookstore. “He won’t follow us in here.”

We’re surrounded by cover images of naked man chests and feathers. Lots of feathers. I could build a pillow out of all the feathers on book covers along this aisle.

Aimee stops in front of a particularly explicit image with lots of nakedness and handcuffs on it. “If there’s nothing wrong with him, why aren’t you dating him?”

“Not interested. We’re just friends.”

“Then go out with Cooper.”

“Also not interested. Co-workers.”

“Pick one! Because I want the other one.”

“Have both! Take your pick because I’m not going after either of them.”

Aimee cracks her knuckles, eyeing Jack. “There must be something wrong with him.”

“I’m sure there is; let me know when you find it.”

“He should have women lining up across the country, begging for a proposal.”

“Well...” I hedge. “I guess he is sort of awkward.”

“Yes, but wasn’t he seeing someone?”

“The girl at the restaurant?” I shake my head. “Things didn’t work out.”

“Why not?”

I launch into the whole sad story. “When they finally met in person, he told her she looked twenty years younger in her photo online than she did in person.”

Aimee giggles, then covers her mouth with a hand. “That’s horrible! Probably worked out for the best, though. Better to find out sooner rather than later.”

I nod. “He was just being honest, so maybe that’s his problem—too blunt.”

“I can handle blunt if I get the rest of his package.”

I roll my eyes. “Then go for it. But right now, we’ve got some work cut out for us.” I clap my hands. “Chop, chop. That’s why we’re here.”

Aimee frowned. “Remind me why we’re here?”

“To get through a date without a food fight!”

“Oh, right.” Aimee nods, scanning the shelves. “Fair enough. So, which book should I read?”

“Anything. Pick quite literally anything from the store, and you’ll be good. Just read something.”

I’d taken Aimee and Jack to the single place on earth that promised romance. In fact, they absolutely guaranteed it. A bookstore in the thick of Culver City decorated in pinks and florals, a cozy little love nook in the midst of a bustling metropolis.

Romance is in the air here, literally. Books fly above the patrons, dangling from dainty strings, leaving bits of love to linger after the words are read and the pages are closed. I stroll past the sailing books, hoping for some of that love to waft right onto me.

It’s not that I feel lonely or believe that I need someone to make me complete. I have excellent friends, a loving family, some great students, and my dream job. I have it all.

But that doesn’t stop me from wanting that toe-curling, spine-tingling, heart-all-afluttering sense of wild and uncontrollable love. The stuff made from bits of starlight, the stuff written in books and sung in songs. The stuff that would make me ache with its fullness—scorching sex and tender kisses. All of it.

But until that day comes for me, I will continue my residency here, single-handedly keeping the bookstore in business. And, if I have anything to say about it, I’ll bring Jack and Aimee along for the ride.

“What about this?” Jack holds up a book with a doctor on the front. Except this doctor is missing a shirt, and there is a second man passionately embracing him from behind. “Have you read it? I figure it’s within the medical field.”

“Whatever piques your curiosity, Jack,” I tell him, though I’m fairly certain the only medical terminology in this particular book involves inserting tab A into slot B. “It’s good to branch out.”

He adds it to his stack, which is now only two books tall.

“Why do you keep setting this down?” I pick up Pride and Prejudice for the third time and shove it into his hands. “Read it. Learn from the greats.”

“The greats?”

“Mr. Darcy. Beauty and the Beast. The Titanic. Romeo and Juliet, minus the dying bit. You’ve got to feel the romance.”

“I feel plenty of romance,” he growls. “The problem is that it doesn’t come out the way I intend.”

“Forget about your last date!”

“It’s not just my last date, Allie. It’s every damn girl I’ve ever talked to my entire life!” Jack’s hand rakes through his hair and leaves it standing on end. “Just give up on me already, okay?”

“No.” I measure my words carefully. There’s more anger, more frustration behind Jack’s outburst than I expected, and it makes me tuck away my sarcastic response. “I’ll never give up on you for one big reason.”

“What reason?”

“Because you talk to me just fine.” I meet his gaze, studying those gray eyes. “I promise you we’ll find someone who gets you just like I do.”

“And if we don’t?”

I reach for his hand and lock my fingers around it. “I promised. I always keep my promises to you.”

“Or else?”

“Or else what?” I ask, giving an exaggerated sigh.

“Then if you fail to keep your promise, you’ll just have to marry me.”

“What?!”

He breaks into a smile. “Since you can stand me, and I can stand you, it could be worse.”

“Oh, what a wonderful reason to get married,” I tell him, trying to keep my heart from thumping against my chest. Talk about a false alarm that gave me heartburn. “Getting married to one another because we could do worse.”

“It’s as good a reason as any.”

For the last time, I press a growing stack of books against his chest. “I know you’re some big shot surgeon. I know you take pride in squishing your feelings until they don’t exist.”

“I don’t squish my feelings.”

“Fine, you shove them into a closet, whatever—”

“I have to be unemotional in my work.”

“Yeah, yeah, and maybe that’s why you can’t quite seem to grasp this thing the rest of the world calls love.” I press the books harder against his rock-solid abdomen. “Read these. Tell me you don’t feel all fluttery inside and want the same thing for yourself when you’re finished. Once you’ve digested the books, then, you’ll be ready for the next lesson at Romance Academy.”