Feels Like Love

Feels Like Romance Novella #3

Novella #3 in the Feels LIke Romance series.

When friendship just isn't enough anymore...

Laila is curvy woman who can't see the beauty in her body.  She longs to find love but accepting herself enough to let someone in is no easy task.  She works at Cecilia's - a restaurant where she does marketing and promotion online - and she's good at what she does.  But that confidence doesn't translate into her personal life.  She has happiness in front of her, and yet her dissatisfaction with herself makes it hard to reach out and take it.

Mark has been in love with Laila since they first met and became friends.  But he's been waiting a long time for her to love him back - and he's tired of it.  So, he decides to "break up from being friends".  He tries to get her out of his head, but love is a hard habit to change.

Will Laila and Mark be able to go from being friends, to being in love?  Or are the barriers between them just too high to overcome?

Please note: This is a short, contemporary romance, stand-alone novella for adults 18 and over.  In this novella, just like in life, sometimes things get a little hot and steamy, if you don't like that, then you might want to try a different story.  And don’t worry, we hate cliffhangers as much as you do - this novella is guaranteed to come to a satisfying HEA conclusion.

approximately 29 000 words

80+ pages

An Excerpt from Feels Like Love

“Laila, I just wanted to know if you’re okay.”

“Okay?  Why wouldn’t I be okay?  You’re okay, aren’t you?”

He didn’t say anything.

“Exactly.  I’m as okay as you.  Okay?” I giggled again.  Good thing I was drunk, or this conversation would be awful.  I was pretty sure it was going to be awful tomorrow when I remembered it.

“She’s a runner.  I met her in a running group.  I’m just trying to get you out of my head, all right?  I’m just trying to get both of us out of this mess.  If I don’t care anymore, then it will all be over.  No more mess.”

He ducked his head, looking at the floor.  I stared at him, and suddenly something clicked in my head.  And because I’m a mouthy drunk, the words spit right out.

“I’m jealous,” I whispered.

His head came up, and his eyes were wide.

“What did you say?”

But I knew he had heard.  Oops.

“I said your girlfriend’s very pretty.  So tall and blonde and thin.”  I plastered a fake smile on my face.

“Laila, it’s not about her looks.”

“How could it not be about her looks when she looks like that,” I said, and I could not help the tiny bitter, desperate note that crept into my voice.  He heard it, and he studied me as if I were a puzzle he couldn’t quite comprehend.

“You think that I chose her to go out with because she looks different from you,” he said, and he honestly looked like the idea had never occurred to him — that he was just figuring it out now.  “But why would you think that?  You must think that I would prefer someone who looks like her?”

“Of course.  Who wouldn’t?  She’s pretty.”

“And you’re not,” he said as if he were trying to understand me but failing.

“Let’s be real here, Mark.  I’m big.  I’ve got lots to love and all that crap.  Shake that booty and whatnot.  She’s very slim.  Must be all that running.  It’s okay.  Don’t worry about it.  Everyone wants a skinny chick.”

He stared at me for a long moment, his blue eyes intense.

“I don’t,” he said quietly.  Then he turned and left, forgetting about going to the bathroom.