The writing on the wall was crystal clear. I had spent the last two decades hiding, choosing the safety of fictional ogres and faraway places over real human connection. My book boyfriends couldn’t hurt me. They couldn’t cheat or call me names, but they also couldn’t hold me. They couldn’t wake me up with vegan pancakes or text me goodnight.
They couldn’t love me back.
That’s all Mom and GG wanted for themselves.
They might have gone about things differently, but even after the bad dates and loneliness—not to mention four divorces between the two of them—neither of them had ever given up on love.
And they wouldn’t want me to either.
“Oh, babe.” June draped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me to her side. She wasn’t as tall as Jared, but the difference in our heights was enough to make me think about his lengthy limbs wrapped around me. “Don’t start playing ‘shoulda, coulda, woulda.’ Nobody ever wins that game.”
The same could be said for “Consequences.” Maybe it was time to stop playing games altogether.
“What if he doesn’t want me anymore? It’s been five days.”
I hadn’t intentionally ignored Jared’s messages after our night together, at least not at first. It had overwhelmed me, along withmy mounting feelings for him, so I’d given myself a day to think and process and rest my well-fucked muscles.
But then that day had come and gone. As had the next, though that one had been spent curled up on a heating pad, sucking down Midol like they were peanut M&Ms. By the third day, the goalpost had shifted. Then I not only had to find a way to explain my conflicted feelings, but also to excuse the last seventy-two hours of radio silence. By day four, I’d given up altogether—not on Jared, but myself.
There was nothing to excuse my bad behavior.
“Nessa, when are you going to realize that you’re the best? And the best is always worth waiting for.” She rested her head on mine and squeezed me tighter. “If the guy doesn’t want you after a few days of radio silence, then he never deserved you in the first place.” I blinked back a tear. “And if that’s the case, we can totally egg his car.”
A rumble of laughter shook my chest. I could always rely on June for a delicious helping of harsh reality with a little bit of laughter sprinkled on top.
“I’m allergic to eggs, you psycho.” I playfully shoved myself away from her and dried my eyes with my sweatshirt. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”
She dropped back into her seat and snatched a cookie from one of the goodie bags. A local Girl Scout troop had provided them, and though their hearts—and rolling pins—had been in the right place, the baked roses had come out looking more like misshapen dicks.
Nothing like Jared’s immaculate cock.
“You’re thinking about his penis, aren’t you?” June arched a knowing brow. “How big is it?”
“I’m not telling you that,” I said, laughing her off.
“Just show me on the cookie. This big?” When I didn’t answer her, she took a bite of the tip—er, petal. “How about now?” she asked around a mouthful of cookie.
“Chew your food,Juniper.”
That shut her up, all thoughts of my fake boyfriend’s penis long forgotten.
We handed out goodie bags to festival goers for the next thirty minutes, all of whom had come to enjoy the comedic tales of St. Olaf told by Roses of all shapes and sizes. In between the entertainment, I typed out a text to Jared and then promptly reconsidered.
After five days, I owed him more than a text message or even a phone call. Plus, the Roasters were playing their first two games of the Division Series tonight and tomorrow in Texas. That gave me twenty-four hours to figure out my grand gesture to win him back, because he deserved nothing less.
I had just finished folding up our table when a warm hand tapped me on the shoulder.
“Hey, Nessa.” I turned without thinking and ran face-first into Ryan. The smile fell from my lips. “Can I borrow you for a minute?”
“Uh, sure.”
“Kay wanted me to tell you that she was feeling sick so she headed home a few minutes early.”
That had been happening a lot lately. Hopefully, she wasn’t coming down with anything contagious. “Oh no, I hope she’s okay.”
He nodded. “Don’t worry, I’m ten minutes behind her. I just need to know where you want me to unload the pumpkins for the miniature golf course.” He gestured to the wagon full of hollowed out gourds beside him.
“Ah, okay. Follow me.”
