Fifteen minutes later, I added, ‘a romance novel written by Sarah Jeffries’.
Yep. I was killing it with the word count. Nine whole words (well, technically eight words and one numeral) written in less than half an hour.Go, me!
Twenty-five minutes later, the page was still empty. It was obvious that I wasn’t going to get any writing done, so I closed my laptop, then pulled out a book I’d started reading last night and my phone instead.
After taking a photo, I drafted an Instagram post.
What’s thebest thing about long train journeys? Uninterrupted reading time! I’m LOVINGThis Could Be Us,by Kennedy Ryan.
I’m torn between wanting to finish it so that I can find out what happens and never wanting it to end because I love it so much.
What are you currently reading? Let me know in the comments!
#romancereader #romancebookstagram #currentlyreading
By the time the train pulled into London, I was almost halfway through the book. After heaving my suitcase onto the train to Sunshine Bay, I put it in the luggage rack.
The train was pretty empty. There were just a few pensioners at the other end of the carriage, so I opted for a table seat at the back, tucked away in the corner.
Just as I was about to bury my nose back in my book, a man shot through the doors, making it inside just before they closed.
Talk about cutting it fine.
Whoa.
Lord have mercy.
As I caught full sight of him, I realised that the wordfinewas an accurate description, because this man wasfine as hell.
He was tall, muscular and very,verysexy.
This mysterious stranger was wearing jeans and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had tanned skin and dark hair, but I couldn’t see much of it or the colour of his eyes because he was wearing a baseball cap and fancy black sunglasses.
If someone told me he was a model who’d just finished shooting a Ray-Ban or Levi’s advert for a fashion magazine, I’d totally believe them.
‘Yeah, sorry about that, mate,’ he said in a deep, polished voice. ‘A woman was struggling to get down the stairs with ababy in a pushchair and another kid. Bloody lifts were out of service, so I offered to help her out.’
OMG.
Wait. Not only did this guy look hot, but he also helped women with pushchairs down the stairs?
Who said book boyfriends didn’t exist in real life?
This was it.
This was my very own real-life meet-cute moment.
I could just feel it!
An excited smile erupted on my face as I fantasised about how this epic encounter would all play out.
Once he finished his phone call, Mr Hot Train Hero would take off his glasses (slow-motion style, of course), then turn to face me.
His gorgeous forest-green eyes would lock with mine (I had no idea what colour his eyes really were, but let’s just run with forest green for now because that was the colour of Rocco’s eyes in my favourite novel,Office Delight).
He’d stride over to me, and after we spent the whole journey chatting and realising how much we had in common, the chemistry between us would be so electrifying that he’d scoop me up in his big, muscular arms and carry me to the toilets, where we’d end up bonking.
Actually, scrap that last part. Train loos were usually gross, so the thought of shagging in them wasn’t very romantic.
