Mr. Nice Guy

I have a confession. I think nice guys are sexy. Really, really sexy.

Pictured above is one of two stock photo models I fell madly in love with while writing While I Held Your Hand. God, what a nice guy. If you’ve read the book, you know exactly which character he is. He looks great in a bed, doesn’t he? 

I’m proud to say he’s not a bad boy. In my humble opinion, bad boys get way more than their fair share of sex-magnet street cred. Sadistic billionaires in particular seem to be all the rage these days. Real-life bad boys, of course, never quite measure up to their fictional counterparts. The fictional bad-boy is brooding, dangerous, mysterious. It goes without saying that he has a fabulous chest. He is in perpetual need of a shave, and he’s an absolute savage in bed. Sometimes he has a ton of money because he’s a self-made billionaire. Other times he just has a ton of money (because let’s face it, ladies, when a man has a ton of money, we don’t really care about his backstory). 

In real life, however, the bad boy tends to lose his sex appeal about two minutes into your first conversation with him. He doesn’t brood, he complains. He’s not dangerous, he just makes irresponsible choices. He’s too dopey to be mysterious and I would say there’s an extremely good chance he’s not a billionaire. And most importantly, he doesn’t live up to your chest expectations. The bad boys of books and movies are the Barbie dolls of men. Their physical proportions are all out of whack, their caricaturish personalities create unrealistic expectations, and their incredibly lithe and flexible bodies can contort into seemingly impossible – oops, think I got distracted for a minute there – where were we again?

Oh, right. Bad boys. Barbie dolls. 

With a few notable exceptions (think Luke Perry, the early years), bad boys just don’t turn me on. But a guy with a huge heart? The kind who never has anything bad to say about anyone and always notices when someone’s feeling down? My fever’s building. Oh, and he happens to be an old-fashioned gentleman who whispers sweet nothings like let me carry that for you? I’m officially foaming at the mouth. Throw in hard-working and responsible, and Good Sir, you had me at I’m leaving for work early today

The good news is, not only do nice guys really exist, they way outnumber bad boys. Included in the legions of nice guys who have been a part of my life are family members, platonic friends, romantic partners, and Santa. Some of the words I’d use to describe them are kind, patient, thoughtful, reliable, and generous. Sure, I’ve known a few jerks along the way, but we women have a few jerks playing for our team as well. And I for my part am pretty sure I’ve been one of them from to time (sorry, Jason). 

So here’s my big shout out to all those nice guys who think they aren’t appreciated. You are wanted. You are valued. And you are really, really sexy. So keep that niceness coming.

And if you, Mr. Nice Guy, through no fault of your own, just happen to be a billionaire with a great chest, on behalf of women the world over I confidently say:

We can probably learn to live with that. 

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