Blogger Girl (32 page)

“I promise not to shave on the weekends and, who knows, once I get comfortable there, maybe I’ll let my lazy shaving habits take over again.” Squeezing my hand, he said, “Deal?”

Squeezing back, I said, “Deal,” reached up and kissed him again.

“Is it okay to interrupt this romantic moment yet?” said a smiling Bridget in a mock impatient voice.

Embracing her fiercely, I said, “I can’t believe you showed up. Thank you!”

“You said you wished I was here so of course I showed up! And besides, you said you thought you might have a heart attack and I was worried.” Poking Nicholas lightly in the arm, she said, “I’ll have you know that despite her flawless performance, Kim here was scared shitless to sing in front of you.”

Nicholas gently patted my back in small circles. “She was fantastic.” Then he looked at me like he was picturing me naked. “Nice shirt by the way.”

Remembering what
he
looked like naked and more than a little eager to see him sans clothes again, I felt myself blush. “Thanks.” Locked in a staring contest, I momentarily forgot where I was until I remembered that Nicholas and Bridget had never met before. “By the way, this is my very best friend Bridget. And you remember Jonathan, right?” At least I thought it was Jonathan. This guy had perfectly coiffed brown hair. I was dying to know how Bridget convinced him to cut his mop. But first things first.

As I searched Nicholas’ face, afraid he might get the wrong idea as to why Jonathan (or his freshly groomed doppleganger) was in attendance, Nicholas reached over and shook his hand. “How’s it going?”

“Bridget and Jonathan are dating,” I said.

His polite smile turning into an all-out grin, Nicholas said, “Oh!”

Although he was unaware I knew about his ex-girlfriend’s duplicity, I squeezed his hand again in quiet understanding. “Yup. And they make almost as adorable a couple as we do.”

Nicholas winked. “Almost.”

FLAT ON MY BACK,
I looked sideways at Nicholas who was propped on one elbow facing me in bed. “I missed you,” I said. It was later that night, close to morning actually, and we were taking a much needed rest from our late night of marathon make up sex.

Nicholas ran his hand over my belly. Although his touch was warm, I shivered from the sensation. “I missed you too, Kimmie,” he said.

“I was so afraid I’d never see you again after you quit.” The prospect still hurt my stomach and I swallowed hard. I felt the need to memorize his face in case the entire night had been a dream and we hadn’t actually gotten back together.

“I’m glad that didn’t happen.”

“Me too,” I smiled at him.

“I probably would have made some excuse to see you again anyway,” he said.

“Probably?”

Nicholas nodded. “I would have. But I’m glad I didn’t have to wait that long. I still can’t believe you sang for me. That was something.”

“I had to write my happy ending!” I made a mental note to thank Caroline as soon as possible. Well, as soon as Nicholas and I were capable of keeping our hands off of each other for more than twenty minutes at a time. As Nicholas inched closer to me, I had a feeling it would be a while.

Nicholas kissed my forehead softly and pulled back to look at me. “I saw your review of Hannah’s book by the way,” he said,

“You did?”

Nicholas nodded. “Yeah. I was really proud of you.”

I smiled softly and whispered, “Thank you. It was the right thing to do.”

“It was. And I knew you’d figure that out eventually.”

“But you stalked my website to make sure, huh?”

Nicholas chuckled. “No, I stalked your website to make sure you weren’t bad mouthing your ex-boyfriend.”

As I tried to disguise my glee that he had considered us “boyfriend and girlfriend,” Nicholas added, “Actually, I stalked your website because I missed you.”

Feeling my nerve endings tingle, I said, “I missed you too.”

“I guess it’s safe to say that we missed each other, huh?”

I reached over to pull him closer to me. “Yup.”

Hovering over me, he said, “By the way, I loved your book.” He leaned down and began kissing my neck.

I quickly sat up. “You did? I was afraid you hated it!”

“Not even a little bit!”

“What did you like about it? Tell me! Tell me!”

Nicholas laughed. “I promise to give you my thorough review later, but first things first.” He flipped me onto my back again and smiled down at me. “I’m not quite through reacquainting myself with your hot body.”

I reached up and touched my fingers to his face, happy to see some stubble sprouting already. “That’s good cuz I’m not through reacquainting myself with yours.”

Nicholas leaned down as if to kiss me but instead began singing, “
Kimmie Long was in my pants
.” He stopped.

“What? You forgot the words?” I joked.

Nicholas shook as head. “No. I just thought of something.”

“What’s that?”

“Kimberly Long and Nicholas Strong.”

At the sound of our names together, I smiled. “What about us?”

“
Strong
and
Long
. Our last names rhyme!” Nicholas said laughing.

I slowly repeated, “Strong and Long” and nodded. “You’re right. Our last names totally rhyme. I’d never thought of that!”

A STATE OF JANE

JUST FRIENDS

WITH BENEFITS

Keep reading for a sneak

peek at
A State of Jane
!

HOLDING THE PHONE AGAINST MY EAR
with my shoulder while I painted my toenails with OPI’s
That’s Hot Pink
, I said to my sister, “Wish me a happy anniversary.”

“Happy Anniversary, little sister.” Claire was only seventeen months older than me, practically my Irish twin, but she always insisted on referring to me as her “little sister.” “May I ask what anniversary you’re celebrating?”

“My first one. And hopefully my last.”

Claire replied, “Clarify.”

“My first anniversary as a single person. It’s been exactly a year since Bob and I broke up and I’m officially ready to fall in love again.” I looked toward my computer screen where my eHarmony profile was twenty-eight percent completed.

Claire snorted. “Says who?”

“I’ve done extensive research online and my score on several questionnaires clearly indicates that I’m emotionally available for a new relationship.”

A hint of doubt in her voice, Claire questioned, “Cuz it’s been exactly a year?”

“Precisely. Three hundred and sixty-five days!” I was not going to let Claire’s teasing get to me. I knew by waiting a year, I’d be less likely to waste my time in a rebound relationship.

"Only you would actually think a few days give or take would make a difference," Claire said, giggling.

"Ha ha, Claire. Laugh all you want. Laugh all the way down the aisle you'll walk down as my matron of honor!"

Still laughing, Claire asked, "So who do you intend to have this new relationship with?"

"Someone amazing! I just have to find him. Could be anywhere – eHarmony, subway, bar, work. In fact, a new set of first-year associates is starting this week!" I bit my lip. "Although if they started law school right after college, they might only be twenty-five." Not everyone worked as a paralegal first like me.

"And that's a problem because?"

"I'm twenty-six! I'd rather date someone older. Or my age." Thirty would be perfect since men matured less quickly than women. A four-year age difference might mean we’d be ready to settle down at the same time.

"It’s a one year difference, Jane. Keep your options open."

"They are open!"

"Whatever you say."

I blew on my toes, willing the polish to dry faster. "I hate when you do that, you know."

"Do what?" Claire asked innocently.

"Dismiss me."

Claire sighed loudly. "You're not in high school anymore, Jane, and guys in New York are not gonna fall at your feet.” Laughing, she added, “Except the really short, nerdy ones with balance problems. Just don't expect to meet Dr. Right who looks like Eric Bana. It ain't easy and you've got lots of competition."

When I met Bob the summer between our sophomore and junior years in high school, we were co-counselors for the same group of seven-year-old boys. We became good friends but when I told Claire I had a crush on him, she said I'd never have the guts to make a move and should just use his friendship as practice for talking to guys. “As always, thanks for the uplifting pep talk. And it’s not as if guys fell at my feet in high school either. Bob was my first boyfriend, remember?"

Softening her voice, Claire said, "Sorry if I sounded mean. You’re a definite catch, sis. You’re just naïve and I don't want you to be unprepared. You understand, right? Just go in with no expectations, OK?”

"OK," I said softly. I had hoped Claire would share my excitement, not give me unsolicited advice.

Her voice brighter, Claire said, “So, you do realize that you'll need to actually go on dates, right? Which means no more back-to-back episodes of
The Barefoot Contessa
and
Iron
Chef
on The Food Network on Saturday nights.”

“It’s not like I’m a hermit, Claire. I just wanted to make sure I gave myself enough time to move on after a nine-year relationship." The fact that I broke up with Bob and not the other way around didn’t make the split any less traumatic. Well, probably not
that
much less traumatic anyway. On a positive note, I’d learned a lot of new recipes over the past year. ”Anyway, I'm ready now."

"I'm sure you are. Just please don't expect things to be as easy as they were when you met Bob. The dating world post-millennium is an entirely different animal and you're dealing with experienced men, not innocent boys. It might not be as easy to meet another Bob. Just ask Pin Cushion."

Pin Cushion was my sister’s nickname for my far from virginal roommate, Lainie, and she was the last person I’d ask for relationship advice. Birth control advice, maybe.

"I'll just be myself and things will happen. Just like they eventually did for you."

Claire let out a deep exhale. "Eventually is the operative word. And now we can't make a baby to save our lives."

I remembered when Claire had dyed her dirty blonde hair jet black when she dated a drummer in college and how she gave up meat when she dated a vegetarian. She wound up married to Kevin, another high school teacher from the suburbs who, ten times out of ten, also chose cheeseburgers over tofu and soy milk. They were a perfect match, but baby making had proved to be challenging. "It will happen when it's supposed to, Claire. I truly believe that." Secretly, I wished it would happen already since I couldn't wait to buy cute baby clothes for my little niece or nephew.

"My advice to you – take your own advice. It will happen when it’s supposed to happen. Don't look at every guy as the potential ‘one.’ ”

"Not every guy, Claire! Just the single, handsome, ambitious, generous, funny ones!" Just then, a message popped up on my computer that my session on eHarmony was going to timeout if I remained idle for another sixty seconds, so after I told Claire I loved her and would cross my fingers that she didn't get her period that month, we hung up and I finished my online profile. I couldn't wait to be matched with someone with whom I was compatible on twenty-nine dimensions!

It did not take a village to write
Blogger Girl
but I had a whole lot of help:

My beta reader, Natalie Aaron—calling you a “beta reader” might be the world’s hugest understatement.  How many beta readers mark up every single page of the manuscript? How many beta readers talk through the comments over a two-hour phone call?  And put up with constant follow-up emails?  While I was initially horrified at the prospect of making so many edits, I can sincerely say that your comments made
Blogger Girl
SO much better.  A world of thanks for all of your help and support, your amazing eye for details and your brutal honesty. I also want to thank you for your humor and your snark and for simply “getting” me. You are so incredibly talented. Please please PLEASE write another book.

My editor, Gabrielle Roman – I truly thought
Blogger Girl
was almost finished when it made its way into your talented hands. Oh, how you proved me wrong. Once again, your brilliant feedback helped me take my work to the next level. I cannot wait to work with you on my fourth novel.

My fabulous publisher, Booktrope, and all of its “cool kids” – I am so happy to be a member of the Booktrope family.  You guys are terrific.  My Book Manager, Beth Bacon—you amaze me with your ability to think outside of the box and I just know we will work well together.  Loretta Matson, my fantastic cover designer—you worked tirelessly on the cover and I’m sure there were times you thought we’d never be satisfied. I, however, always knew you’d create the perfect cover for me. And you did. And Heather Ludviksson and Jesse James Freeman—I know I sometimes send you guys a million emails but it’s only because you are both a wealth of information. Thank you for patiently answering each and every one of them.