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Looking for a steady supply of romance short stories? Every week thousands of writers submit stories to our writing contest.

150+ Romance Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. From the thrill of a first date to a snapshot tour through an entire relationship, our collection of romantic short stories will give you everything your heart desires.

Romance Short Stories – Page 9 of 10

Jose

Submitted to Contest #315

José was 29, a barista with a dream that stretched further than his paycheck ever did. Originally from Portugal, he had arrived in the United States on a student visa, young and hungry for opportunity. He had studied economics at a state university, spent hours in lecture halls filled with numbers and theories and graduated with honors. But when it came time to follow the well-worn path into finance or consulting, José paused. The thought of cubicles, dress codes, and performance evaluations left him cold. He didn’t want to spend his life an...

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The Meeting

Submitted to Contest #315

She knows that everyone is unique. She can’t see it, but she knows it because she read it in a book once and there was a conviction to the words that made them stick. A value that would be of use to her. Besides, she could read the room as well as books. She is unique. This she can see. It’s obvious that she’s different to the rest. Even her cow of a mother. Her mother thinks they are the same, but she is sorely mistaken. Her mother is a walking compromise. Unable to translate her greatness into this world. Wanting to belong in a way that di...

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335 Marsh Ave

Submitted to Contest #315

The problem with automating most of his small farm was that Andrew Canfield had tinkered himself out of work, and a mind like his needed something to focus on. His father’s unexpected passing on the heels of his sixteenth birthday, seven years after Mrs Canfield took off, had left the entire town believing sweet young Andy would buckle under the pressure. Instead, the pimpled, sinewy redhead hid from the grief inside every problem that arose and those he anticipated. Orphaned but brilliant, he quickly made Canfield Farms more effective, effi...

9 likes 2 comments 2
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Mavis and the mystery man

Submitted to Contest #315

8.30am.Mavis Benwell had been awake for hours.There was a nagging issue which was plaguing her mind and it had clung steadfastly onto her brain like a limpet.Ever since midnight, she had battled with the one problem which would not leave her alone. It nagged and nagged, and itched like a sore that you just couldn’t reach.‘How can I make a good impression on him,’ she kept asking herself. ‘How can I convince him to like me.’Her visitor would be arriving at around 6pm that evening. It meant she nine hours to come up with a solution.But nothing...

6 likes 1 comment 1
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The Uncanny Encounter

Submitted to Contest #315

I turned thirty on a Tuesday.There wasn’t much ceremony to it. I went to work like usual, answered emails, deleted others. Had lunch by myself at my desk — a bland chicken salad that felt symbolic somehow. The office printer jammed again, and someone left a passive-aggressive Post-it on the communal fridge about labeling leftovers, creating a brief ruckus. Thirty came with the subtle realization that the life I had wasn’t quite the life I imagined. It was either the cornerstone of my journey, or the hindrance that devastates my path. It wasn...

10 likes 1 comment 1
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Flood Party

Submitted to Contest #315

By the time the magician’s dove landed in the queso, I’d already decided that birthdays were a genre of performance art I was ill-equipped to perform. It was my fourth party of the day. The birthday boy, Wyatt, had two front teeth on perpetual sabbatical and a battle cry that could curdle hope. The magician was an Uber driver in a cape, whose finale, apparently, was a dove-shaped stain under a puddle of nacho cheese. The dove, a co-conspirator, looked deeply offended. A jury of mothers clustered, while the fathers hid in the kitchen, texting...

15 likes 3 comments 3
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Room 721

Submitted to Contest #315

Back from the cemetery, I loosened my tie and sank into the recliner. My daughter gently draped a blanket over me, tucking it from knees to neck. “It’s been a long day, Dad. I’ll wake you when dinner’s ready.” My eyes are closed, but I’m not asleep. Aromas of roasting ham and freshly baked bread drift from the kitchen. I hear tender laughter, jumbles of shared recollections, and the hush of sorrow. The fridge and the cabinet doors open and close; tableware clatters. Familiar feminine voices confer about how to arrange the buffet. When someo...

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Get in the Ring

Submitted to Contest #315

[NOTE: there is arson in this story.]"Happy birthday, motherfucker!" she screamed into the garage, pausing momentarily to toss a Zippo lighter over her shoulder. Out of spite, she had sown the floor with butane and sparklers because…why not.Earlier in the evening, she took her time dressing, getting ready for the main event. Black tank top, leather jacket, black leather mini-skirt, thigh high stiletto heeled boots. Lipstick the color of blood, anger, vengeance; glossy like the irresistible candy apples in the county fair. Eyes lined with bla...

7 likes 6 comments 6
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False Start

Submitted to Contest #315

CW: Themes of suicidal ideation The sun cascaded over the hilltop and spilled down into the valley. Sweet honey for his eyes and for his soul. He fancied he heard a defiant cry from the night as it angrily clutched its cloak of darkness and fled the land it was only ever a visitor in. A temporary interloper seducing life into a drunken stupor that it always awoke from. The myriad greens upon the hillside were testament to the sun’s reign and nowhere was as full of life as this remote spot nestled in the bosom of the hills. The solitary cotta...

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That’s When It Started, July 27, a Sunday

Submitted to Contest #315

I kept checking my sales chart — just a few pages read now and then, nothing to write home about.Then, on Sunday, July 27, it happened. The chart began to peak, climbing for six days straight before falling to zero for three days… only to rise again for another four.I stared at it, curious, leaning closer as if the numbers might reveal their secrets. My mind slipped past them, far into the chart and beyond — to a world unseen except by dreamers — to a little town, a narrow street, a small flat, and a young woman about to step inside.It was S...

13 likes 6 comments 6
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Charmer.exe

Submitted to Contest #315

Laura paced backstage as the presenter continued speaking. She struggled to focus on his words though. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears, almost drowning out the presenter’s voice. “It's my honour to present tonight’s winner for Best Innovation in Artificial Intelligence,” the presenter said with a plastic smile. Laura paid him little attention as he began listing off the achievements of her app. She hated public speaking. It made her sick. So did speaking to people at all. It was why she’d designed Charmer in the first place. “Charmer has ...

6 likes 1 comment 1
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Soft and Slow

Submitted to Contest #315

It was well past Midnight, and the hour had come for the good to fall into a restless slumber. Silence stretched in a thin anticipation, and the room, lit only by a small flickering candle, knew what was to come and could not stop it; for in the coldest hour of the night, the good awake was ready to be devoured by the wicked.Evie sat awake on the edge of her bed, clutching a knife in her trembling hands. Tom stood across the room, observing a painting on the wall, nursing the last remnants of a cigarette. The air smelt of honey and smoke, “A...

2 likes 0 comments 0
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The Fifteenth of Blóstfael

Submitted to Contest #315

A sunbeam brushed gently against my eyelashes, flooding everything with warm scarlet light. I winced, opened my eyes wide, and sat up, glancing around in slight bewilderment. I’d had an unbearably strange dream, leaving an unpleasant aftertaste on my tongue. As if I were trying to grasp something—or someone—and it kept slipping… slipping beyond reach… My own room, everything as always: my schoolgirl’s desk cluttered with foolish odds and ends, notebooks strewn in disarray. Above the mess hung the calendar, pale and stern. From that neatly li...

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The best papi

Submitted to Contest #315

"If you mix the milk and the flower then I'll crack the egg", Ryan suggests as he smiles at his son. "But I wanted to do the egg", Art, his 5 year old, whines. Ryan raises an eyebrow at him. "What is that, darling?" "Can I cracked the egg, please, daddy?" Art asks in his sweetest voice. Ryan chuckles. "If you really want to, I can show you how to do it. But I thought you always let daddy do that so your hands wouldn't get sticky?" Art crosses his little arms across his chest. "When I was a little baby, yes. But I am a big boy now. I can crac...

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The Hinge That Remembers

Submitted to Contest #315

When Mara pushed open her grandmother’s front door, it didn’t swing—it sighed. The wood was swollen from years of salt air, stubborn as memory. She leaned her shoulder against it until it gave, then stepped inside, leaving her suitcase by the stairs like an afterthought.The air was the same as she remembered: tide, lemon oil, and the faint whisper of rosemary. Summer afternoons and childhood laughter clung to it, even though the house had been empty for over a year. Or not empty—just without a person.The bay window framed the gray horizon. I...

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RBE | RBE Romance | 2024-03

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