Page 4 of Chasing Forever

This could be his last day on the island, and she might never see him again, but she’d already imprinted his image on her brain, and she could easily recall it when she sat down to write. At least, it used to be that easy.

Sighing, she tore her eyes away and picked up her pace. She’d been standing and gawking long enough, and she didn’t want to get caught.

If, by chance, she saw him around there again, he was fair game, though. In addition to her attention to detail, she excelled at blending into the background. She could observe him unnoticed since there was nothing about her that stood out.

If Irene or Quinn were there, they’d have argued with her, but she wasn’t being self-critical, just honest. She had straight dark brown hair styled in a mid-length bob and matching brown eyes. When she wrote, she wore black-framed glasses, but typically she went without. She had some freckles (more like tiny moles) across her nose and cheeks that she used to try and cover up, but now she let them be. Quinn said they reminded her of Meghan Markle. Ha! She wished!

Her body was in decent shape, though it was nowhere near as fit as Superman’s over there. Walking and bike-riding were her favorite physical activities, and ice-skating helped keep the winter pounds to a minimum, but she wasn’t one to pass up dessert or ban certain foods altogether. Life was too short for that, and she enjoyed her three squares.

Average and normal (most of the time) were words she’d use to describe herself. Nothing to sneeze at yet nothing to get excited about either. She was ensconced somewhere in the middle, which was not the position one wanted to be in to snag a guy like him.

Therefore, she’d be content to sit back and observe while taking copious amounts of notes that would miraculously result in an irresistible romantic hero. It was like performing a magic trick with the opportunity to do it over if it didn’t turn out right the first time. The magic of computers!

She took one last glance at Mr. Hottie and noticed he’d sat down on the lounge chair with his hands behind his head, looking much more relaxed than he had a few minutes ago. With his sunglasses on, it was difficult to tell where he was looking and if his eyes were even open. But she didn’t want to risk him spotting her, so she quickly crossed the lawn and let herself back into the safety of her condo.

After changing into shorts and a T-shirt that read “Vacay Mode,” she took a notepad and pen out of her messenger bag, poured herself a tall glass of ice water, and stepped out onto the patio. From there, she had a limited view of the pool, which was fine. She simply wanted to jot down a few ideas before she forgot them.

She traded her shades for her regular glasses and bent over her hardbound notebook. After being a writer for several years, it still amazed her how the brain and pen worked in tandem, and soon she had a whole page of notes. Some of them were snippets of details, like hair color, eye color, height, skin tone, etc. Others were random ideas for the character’s backstory.

She might end up using all, some, or none of them, but at least she had a start. She was still deep in thought, pen poised at her mouth, when a movement caught her eye. She glanced up and about fell off her chair.

Mr. Hottie, aka potential romance book hero, was walking toward her, shirtless and with a towel draped casually over one arm. His hair was wet and slicked back, and water droplets clung to his bare chest with its perfect smattering of hair.

Why isn’t he walking on the path? Where is he going? Why does it look like he’s headed straight for me? She pretended to stare at her notebook while simultaneously tracking his every step. It was quite the feat, and with her eyes cast downward, she saw his feet. Naturally, they were as perfect as the rest of him.

She expected him to stop or change course at any second, but he just kept coming until he paused at the half wall separating her patio from the next-door neighbor’s. Keep your eyes down. He probably won’t even notice me.

“Oh. Hey. Almost didn’t see you there.”

Wait a minute. Is he talking to me? Is he talking to me? Stop with the movie quotes!

Raising her head like she’d just seen him for the first time, she said, “Hello.” It was all she could manage because, at close range, he was even more beautiful than from a distance. She wanted him to say whatever it was he had to say and move on so she could pick her tongue up off the ground and continue writing.

“Looks like we’re neighbors,” he said with a smile.

“Oh, yeah?” She adopted an air of nonchalance, though she was feeling anything but. This could not be happening unless she’d accidentally stepped into the pages of one of her romance books and was acting out a scene.

“Just get here?”

“Um-hmm. You?”

“Yep. Earlier today.”

So far, their conversation was much less impressive than his looks, but that was partially her fault. She always wrote better than she spoke, but she was particularly tongue-tied with him standing so close and dripping water onto her patio floor.

“Me too.”

“I’m Chase Edwards, by the way.”

Of course you are. You had to have a romance hero’s name to match your looks!

“Callie Cooper. Nice to meet you.”

He came closer, his arm outstretched to shake her hand, and the blood started pounding in her ears. Forcing an outward calm, she closed her notebook, set down her pen, and reciprocated. They shook hands across the table, a drop of water from his chest plopping onto the cover of her notebook and spreading.

“Sorry about that. I just got out of the pool.” He leaned over and dried the spot with his towel, which gave her an even closer look at his face. This right here was how romance novels were born.

Adam used to chide her that no human being looked as good as a character in one of her books. Guess what, buddy? You were wrong like you were about so many other things…