A quiet girl lets her shoes do the talking while a heel enthusiast hangs on her every footstep.

I’m so horribly shy that at parties I often feel as if I not only blend with the furniture, I become transparent — as if you might not only forget about me, but be able to see completely through me. This is what I was thinking at my former roommate’s anniversary party, when a deep voice from behind me said, “I spy a shy girl.”

I turned around quickly. A man with dark curly brown hair and soft blue eyes leaned over the edge of the sofa toward me. He’d only said the words loud enough for me to hear, which meant he’d been incredibly close to me in order to for me to hear him over the dance music.

“Where?” I asked sarcastically, gazing out at the rest of the... Read More