“Okay,” I say. “Well, when it comes to what I look for in each specific book, I guess it’s easiest to break it down by tropes—tropes being plot devices or themes. Examples of different tropes in romance would be friends-to-lovers, enemies-to-lovers, fake relationships, second-chance romance, forced proximity, mistaken identity...”

“So there’s a lot,” Ryan interjects, sensing I am prepared to go on forever.

“Yes, a lot. Most of which are very fun and intriguing.”

“But if there’s only a certain number of themes, aren’t books with the same trope carbon copies of each other?”

“Not at all, because each book approaches the trope in a different way. The characters are different, the location is different...” I try to think of how to phrase this in a way that Ryan would connect with.

“All right, so you asking me if books with the same trope are carbon copies of each other would be equivalent to me asking you if every baseball game you watch is the same. I mean, they’re all just playing baseball, following the same rules and always ending the same with one team winning. It must be boring.”

“Which would be an absolutely blasphemous statement.”

“Exactly. In baseball, they’re going through the same motions with the same end-goal in mind, but you’re still happy to follow multiple teams and watch them play because every game is different and exciting. The same is true with romances. Each love story is its own unique experience.”

“All right,” Ryan says, rubbing his hand across the stubble on his cheek, “I’m not even trying to stroke your ego here, but you should know that what you just said was wildly insightful.”

A wave of pride flushes through me as I feel myself going a little red. And that right there is the bookish runner’s high I was trying to explain to my mom.

Like I said, I know my truth.

“Thank you, but I’m sure other people must have used that metaphor before.”

“As they should. I have a much better understanding now.”

“I’m glad I could help you walk in the light.”

“So which one of these tropes is your favorite?” Ryan asks.

“Oh, man.” I suddenly feel like I have to pick which of my nonexistent children I love the most. “I like so many of them. But if I had to pick, my top three would maybe be best friend’s sibling...”

“Say what now? That counts as a category?”

“Not a category. A trope.”

“Well, that’s an extremely specific trope.”

“Most of them are. You know what, scratch that, best friend’s sibling has been moving down my list lately. Okay, official top three...forbidden love, forced proximity and enemies-to-lovers.”

“And I’m assuming enemies-to-lovers is...”

“What it sounds like—people who hate each other but then fall in love.”