Mr. Romance (Franklin U #3) Read Online Louisa Masters

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Franklin U Series by Louisa Masters

Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)

When you’re clueless, Mr. Romance can help.

I’m not sure how it happened, but it turns out I’ve unknowingly been dating three people.
Friends don’t spoil other friends, apparently. My trust fund means I can afford to, though, and what’s a meal here and there? Or some clothes? Or textbooks? That doesn’t mean we’re dating, right?
Others disagree. If I want to get through the rest of college knowing who my friends are, I need help from someone who knows all about dating and can tell me what not to do.
Someone like Mr. Romance.

When people look at me, romance is the last thing they think of… but I’m still the first person they call. Need a first date planned? A big romantic moment? Gotta beg for forgiveness? I’m your man. When it comes to romance, I’ve got it handled.
Not personally, though. My romantic life is… barren. All I really want is someone to snuggle with and spoil me. What I’ve got is planning dates for people who have no clue about romancing someone.
But now I’m somehow Charlie Martin’s anti-romance consultant. Charlie, who’s completely clueless yet the most accepting and friendly person I’ve ever met. Who’s giving and generous. Who’s befriended me and wants me to be happy.
I’m supposed to help him stop his friends from falling for him. The last thing I need is to fall for him myself.




“You’re a pig, Charlie Martin!”

The words seem to echo around the café, and I blink in shock up at the pretty brunette who shouted them. Cassie’s my friend. Why would she do this?

“Uh… what?”

“Oh my god, don’t play dumb with me! I know you’re plenty smart. How could you do this to me?”

I swallow and glance around while trying not to look like I’m glancing around. I have no idea what’s going on. “Cass, I don’t understand. Did I do something to upset you?”

Across the table, Lesley tosses her blond mane. “Charlie, is something going on here?”

I wish I knew the answer to that question.

Cassie stomps her foot. “Nobody’s talking to you, homewrecker.”

Okay, wow. This is getting out of hand. The girls clearly have some kind of history I know nothing about, but I wasn’t born yesterday. Once the word “homewrecker” is tossed into the conversation, things always deteriorate.

Sure enough, Lesley pushes back her chair and stands. “What did you call me, bitch?”

“Maybe we should chill with the name-calling,” I suggest desperately, trying to head things off. I come to Food Café for lunch nearly every day. It would suck if I got banned because of my friends.

They both turn on me. Speaking up was a mistake.

“How could you cheat on me with this slut?” Cassie hisses. I cringe. My mom works with women recovering from domestic violence, and she spent the first eighteen years of my life drumming into me that some words only demean women and therefore shouldn’t be used. And these girls who are my friends are using them all pretty freely.

“I don’t think there’s any need for— Wait, what?” I stand too. “Did you say I cheated on you? I didn’t cheat on you.”

“You’re dating her behind my back?” Lesley screeches. “How dare you! I don’t deserve to be treated this way!”

“What way?” I ask in genuine bewilderment. I honestly thought that by the time we reached college, girls stopped doing that whole thing where if you were friends with them, you can’t be friends with people they don’t like. Also, I had no idea there was bad blood between them. This is so not my fault. If they’re going to have dumb rules about friendship, they need to explain them to people upfront and tell me who I’m not allowed to be friends with.

Not that I’d do that. Nobody gets to tell me who I can and can’t be friends with. Mom would kill me if I let them.

“You’re dating us both!” Cassie declares. “That’s not okay, Charlie. I thought we were exclusive!” She snatches up my soda and throws it at my face.

What. The. Fuck.

I snatch up a wad of napkins and mop myself off before it can drip onto the shirt I spent ten minutes ironing this morning. Lucky there wasn’t much left in the glass—I’d be pissed if she ruined my shirt.

“I’m not dating you both!” Where the fuck did that come from? “I’m not dating either of you. We’re friends.” Aren’t we? I look desperately around the café. Everyone’s stopped to watch the drama unfold, and since it’s lunchtime, that means there are plenty of witnesses to my humiliation. A few people are even holding up phones. Does that mean…?

“Uh, could you not record this, please?” I ask. None of them lower their phones. “Great. Thanks.”

My eye catches on my friend Raymond near the door, grinning like a loon and shaking his head. He pushes his way through the crowd.