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To anyone else who saw them, they looked just like a real couple. She tried to imagine what that would be like, being in a real relationship with Dylan.His girlfriend. Would she still be happy after the newness had worn off? Or would she start to get her usual relationship claustrophobia?
Thank goodness she wouldn’t have to find out.
They ate lunch on the patio of a restaurant near the boardwalk. It was a perfect afternoon to visit the beach: sunny and bright, with just a few lazy clouds moving in the late summer sky. Brooke got the fried chicken sandwich, and Dylan ordered the lobster roll with a side of sweet potato fries, which he pushed toward her to share. Once again, she tried to pay for her share of lunch, and once again he wouldn’t let her.
Afterward, they strolled up the boardwalk toward Muscle Beach, occasionally stopping to window-shop or gape at the local wildlife.
“Is that person wearing a loincloth and a boa constrictor?” Dylan asked as they passed a man with a huge snake draped over his bare chest.
“Yes. Yes, he is,” Brooke answered with a laugh.
It was far from the weirdest thing on display. They saw all sorts of street performers, from a guitarist on roller skates to a magician dressed like a mad scientist who was swallowing balloons. There were tumblers, dancers, musicians, and folks in all sorts of costumes. Between the people watching and the stunning view of the Pacific Ocean, no matter where you looked there was always something to see.
Spending time with Dylan was a million times more fun than spending time with any of the other men Brooke had dated. She could be herself with Dylan, in a way she’d never felt able to do with anyone else. They chatted easily as they walked, and Brooke marveled that they never seemed to run out of things to talk about. They laughed at each other’s dumb jokes, finished each other’s sentences, and had a surprising amount in common after so many years apart leading such different lives.
It turned out they both loved the TV showSchitt’s Creek, which wasn’t so surprising, but also they both read romance novels, which was.
“What, you don’t think men can read romance novels?” Dylan asked off Brooke’s expression of astonishment.
“It’s not a matter of can, it’s a matter of whether they choose to, and I’ve never known any who did.”
Most of the men she knew would sooner be caught dead than reading a romance. She’d grown used to being mocked for her reading habits by men who collected World of Warcraft novelizations and liked to pretend they understood Kerouac. It was a novelty to discover one who not only read romance, but liked it.
“I’ll admit, I was skeptical at first,” Dylan said. “The only reason I picked one up is I was thinking about taking a cover modeling gig, and I wanted to see what kind of books my face would be on.”
“Your face or your abs?” Brooke asked as they paused to watch a pair of acrobats who’d attracted a small crowd. “They don’t always show the guy’s face.”
Dylan chuckled. “That’s true.”
“Wait? Did you end up doing it? Does that mean there’s a romance novel out there with you on the cover?” If so, she needed to track it down and purchase a copy immediately. What if it was one she’d already read without realizing the man-chest on the cover belonged to a man she actually knew?
“Not yet,” he told her, shaking his head. “It didn’t end up working out with my schedule, but I’m totally open to it. Once I started reading romance, I was hooked. I mostly listen to audiobooks now. They’re great for getting me out of my head during a shoot, although I have to be careful with the steamy scenes if I want to avoid inopportune wood on the job.”
“Oh my god.” Brooke hadn’t considered that, but now it was all she could think about. “Is the sex what you like about them?” After last night, she could testify to exactly how in touch he was with his sensual side. Based on the single data point of Dylan, she was ready to declare that romance novels should be required reading for all men.
His eyebrows waggled as he turned a grin on her. “I definitely enjoy the sexy parts, but that’s not the only reason I read them. What I really like is how optimistic romances are. People always get what they deserve—good or bad.”
Brooke hadn’t really thought about it, but she supposed it was true. It was funny, really, that she liked to read romances when she was such a pessimist where her own romantic life was concerned. Although perhaps that was exactlywhyshe enjoyed them. They provided an escape from her own mundane experiences, in the same way science fiction and fantasy did.
Dylan let go of her hand in order to dig his wallet out of his pocket. “I used to only read books I thought smart people read, because I wanted to prove I was as good as they were. But god, those books were all so depressing. It felt like a chore.” He dropped a few bills into the acrobats’ tip pail before he and Brooke moved on down the boardwalk. “I finally realized, no matter what books I read, no one was ever going to look at me and think I was smart, so I might as well read what makes me happy.”
“Hey, youaresmart.” Brooke tucked her arm through his and gave him a reprimanding shake.
He smiled at her and covered her hand with his. “I know that and you know that, but people are always going to look at me and assume I’m just a hot dum-dum.” He shrugged. “It is what it is. I’m not going to be an asshole who complains about being too good-looking. If people underestimate me, that’s something I can use to my advantage.”
“Good for you.” She squeezed his arm, glad to hear him sounding so confident about his own capabilities. Maybe his mother hadn’t completely broken his self-esteem after all. “So what’s your favorite romance trope?”
His eyebrows pulled together. “Trope?”
“It’s like a premise or setup,” she explained. “A popular story device that gets written over and over again. Like enemies to lovers.”
“Ah.” He smiled a dazzling smile. “That’d be best friends to lovers. Obviously.”
Chapter Thirteen
Brooke dragged Dylan over to a sunglasses kiosk, and they took turns picking out the goofiest-looking frames for each other to try on. He let her buy him a pair of tacky purple frames that somehow managed to look both totally hot and totally ridiculous on him.
They continued down the boardwalk chatting easily as they took in the sights, until they got tired of walking and found a relatively clean patch of sand to sit and look out at the waves.
