Page 69 of 500 First Editions (The Romantics #3)

Willow took a deep breath and looked straight into the camera, staring into my soul.

“To clear up speculation, it wasn’t a publicity stunt.

We survived a 1,500-mile road trip after knowing each other for only a week and spent the entire summer together in my hometown.

But if there’s anything I learned about Ryan Ford that day at Rom-Con, it’s that he’s a man of his word.

He dared me to take a chance, and I did.

He said he would make me fall in love with him, and I did.

I’m a woman of my word too. So, now you can hear it from me: this is my official endorsement of The Ford Method. But there is a caveat.”

My heart stopped.

“ Both partners have to be involved for it to work. Love isn’t a one-way street.

Being pursued so intentionally taught me a lot about myself.

And it taught me how I need to love others.

” Her smile widened. “Three months ago, Ryan Ford dared me to take a chance on love. And I’m so glad I did.

So much so that I wrote a book inspired by it.

So, I’m daring you. Give love a chance. Oh yeah”—she laughed—“and my next book, Dare You To Love Me, is coming out in January. Preorder it now. And Ryan, if you’re watching, I have a few more things I need to say to you. ”

The doorbell rang. I bolted so fast I nearly crashed through the front door. An envelope fell as I yanked it open. I snatched it up and tore into it. A hotel key card fell into my hand.

The hotel Willow had been staying at during Rom-Con. The room number scrawled on the paper holder was the same as it had been that fateful week.

My heart beat like a drum as I grabbed only the necessities and bolted.

In general, I hated taking cabs, but the subway wouldn’t be fast enough. The second I was in the backseat, I was furiously trying to text her, but each message kept bouncing back.

Adrenaline rushed through my veins. I couldn’t sit still.

“You all right back there?” the driver asked as he weaved around traffic.

“Fine. I just need to get to my girl.”

“Well, sit back. You’re making me nervous.”

Willow was making me nervous. I just needed to talk to her.

I tapped my fingers and bounced my feet as time flew by and traffic slowed. We eased over the East River at a snail’s pace. Tail lights flashed in a symphony as the crawl came to a halt.

“No, no, no,” I muttered under my breath as I tried to reach Willow again. I didn’t want her to think I wasn’t coming. “What’s the hold-up?” I asked the driver.

“Construction. Lanes are closed up ahead.”

I did the math in my head. The hotel wasn’t close, but I had been running in the Kansas heat all summer, and the fall weather in New York was cool and breezy.

“Let me out here.”

The driver craned over the seat. “What? Are you crazy?”

“Probably,” I said as I pulled out more bills than necessary to cover the fare and hopped out of the backseat.

Horns blared as I sprinted between cars and hauled ass down 2nd Avenue. I counted the blocks in my head as I ran, mentally ticking them off like a checklist.

Do the next one faster than the last. Push harder. Breathe deeper .

The temperatures were blissful, but the air was thick.

My lungs ached and burned with a fiery vengeance as I turned a corner.

Nine more blocks.

Eight more blocks.

Seven more blocks.

Six more blocks.

I thought I felt my phone vibrating from my pocket, but I wasn’t slowing down to check. I had a death grip on the book, probably leaving sweat marks from my hands on the cover.

Five more blocks.

Four more blocks.

Three more blocks.

I slowed, my joints throbbing as I neared the last two blocks. No. I couldn’t stop now. I picked up my pace and ran like my life depended on it.

Because it did. I was finding Willow, and I wasn’t letting her go.

Two more blocks.

One more block.

The hotel entrance came into view. I leaped up the steps and darted through the lobby.

“Good afternoon. How can I help?—”

I passed the front desk receptionist without a second glance, passed the elevator, and headed for the stairs.

My thighs were trembling when I made it to Willow’s floor. I pushed through the stairwell door and glanced at the room numbers, counting my way to her.

I didn’t stop to breathe and collect myself. I pounded on the door until the handle lowered.

And then I was kissing her. Willow squeaked in surprise as she wrapped her arms around my neck and dragged me inside.

She broke away first, sandwiching my cheeks in her hands. “What took you so long?”

“Cab got stuck in traffic. Ran the rest of the way here.”

Her brows lifted. “You jumped out of a cab and ran here?”

“You know me. I’m all about the weather. It was a nice day, so I thought I’d chase down my future wife before she got away from me again.”

She laughed before coming in for another kiss. It was softer and sweeter than the first. “You gave me the romance movie cliché.”

I kicked the door closed and walked her backward toward the bed, tossing the book on it first. “How’d you pull all this off, cupcake?”

Willow beamed. “Your mom helped. She’s a romantic.”

I laid her back on the bed and rested my forehead on hers. “What took you so fucking long?”

She tilted her chin up, bumping my nose with hers. “I’ve been a little busy trying to love you the way you love me.”