Prologue
Some Guys Are Just Like That
TJ
Present Day
Seven years ago, when my boss hit me with the news that he was sending me to London for the next twelve months, I could picture my nights unfolding like a dirty fairy tale.
After working my ass off all day, I’d hit the music bars, check out cool new bands, and meet hot guys. They’d charm me with their accents, and I’d charm them with my wit, and we’d bang till Big Ben struck morning O-O-O-and-one-more-O’clock.
My sex life would be nothing like it was in college, which was a lot like a drought—a famine from which, two years post-graduation, I’d only recently started to emerge.
But Ye Olde London? It would be a beefeater feast.
And sure, yeah, a great work opportunity. Obviously. And I wanted that because I had goals. Big ones.
Little ones too.
First, I wanted to stop at the bookstore on Cecil Court I went to on a family trip when I was an awkward teenager. While my parents hunted for a guidebook, I browsed the paperbacks, and for the first time in my life, I visualized my name on a cover. I left there with an armload of books . . . and a dream.
The bookshop was one of the first places I went when I arrived in London seven years ago. I wanted an auspicious beginning to my year abroad. Full circle and all that.
But that time, when I reached Cecil Court, it wasn’t a paperback that sparked my dreams.
It was a man.
This bloke had more charm and appeal than any hero I could write into a novel.
But he wasn’t simply between the covers of a story, where I could mastermind the ending. He was vibrant, real, and the most thrilling time I’d ever had. Soon, my London life was full of him.
And—spoiler alert—this guy in the bookstore was going to upend my world, not once, but twice.
Some guys were like that. They stayed with you, even when you wanted them out of your head.
And they left, even when you wanted them to stay.