Page 239 of The Hopelessly Bromantic Duet

When Jason was visiting the other week, we took him out for a few rounds of ping-pong, and he caught us up on all the details of his life in San Francisco. His love life has become a little more complicated since a guy he knew returned to the city by the bay. That guy just happens to be the quarterback for Jason’s rival team. “And Beck just made me one hell of a proposition,” Jason told us.

But that’s a story for another time.

For now, I’m focused on Jude as we travel to the city where we fell in love once upon a time.

The first night in London is ripped from the pages of one of my books. We go to a music club, check out a band, and make out on the dance floor. I still don’t dance, but I can kiss like a badass motherfucker.

At our hotel, we strip each other naked and indulge in, well,everything.

The next day, he comes to my event at An Open Book. The bookstore is packed. We’re talking standing room only and a line out the door.

Is this my life?

Yes, it is, and I love it.

I settle in at the podium, adjust the mic and read the first line of my new book.

I’ve been having this recurring dirty daydream.

Then I read the rest of the prologue ofLook Me Up.

When I’m done, I take questions, and as the event winds down, someone in the crowd shoots up her hand. I can’t see her at first, but then she stands—purple hair, a kind smile, and a twinkle in her eyes.

“Just a few questions, love.”

“Hit me up,” I say, grinning as Helen’s friendly face comes into view.

“InLook Me Up, there was mention of a squeaking laundry room door. Did you ever fix the laundry room door?”

I laugh. “I sure did.”

I fixed it the weekend Jude returned to New York.

“Another question. I rather enjoyed your antagonist. Dane Donovan. Will we see him in a future book?”

“You never know,” I say. Hazel and I may write a book together.

The two of us would have a blast continuing the foibles of Dane Donovan in make-believe. The real-life guy he’s based on still hasn’t pubbedThe Man and His Main Squeeze, nor have I heard a peep about it on his social media. Some guys just don’t have the stamina to go all the way.

“And what about Amsterdam? Did you ever take a certain someone there?”

“As a matter of fact, we’re going tomorrow.”

But I’ve always wanted Amsterdam to be special, and I’m pretty sure I have just the way to make that happen.

Later, after I sign books, talk to readers, and take pictures, the crowds filter out.

“I’ll be closing up, but feel free to browse while the place is quiet,” the shop owner says.

“Thanks so much,” I say, then she locks the door and gives me a wink, and disappears into the back.

It’s just Jude and me in the store where we met.

We wander around, checking out the shelves, picking up books for the rest of our trip. When we reach the Wildes, mypulse quickens. Adrenaline and hope spin higher in me as I show him a copy of the book that brought us together years ago.

Jude studies it carefully. It’s a special one I had made just for him. I asked the owner to set it right here.

It’s one of a kind, with a custom cover artfully placed over the existing one. An illustration of two guys. One holds a book, the other a script.