For so many of us, there’s just nothing better than a moody, brooding, reclusive, detached book “hero”. Okay, yes in real life, I’m thinking that would get old. Fast. But in our book worlds? Pining for that completely uninterested, no-nonsense alpha-male, and then experiencing “being” the one (and pretty much the only one) that finally turns him around (at least, in part). At least when it comes to her.
Ahhhhhhh the unrequited love for that guy that seems to need nobody, but that everyone wants to be a part of. The thrill of the chase (or of the “wait”). That exquisite “have to work for it” feel. Even the tentative friends-first thing. Then it slowly builds.