“I know.” I huffed. “Apparently, I only attract the weirdos.”
“Aw, hon, it’s not your fault men are trash,” Xan consoled. “Straight dating is like thrift shopping. You sift through a lot of questionable stuff before you find something not covered in stains.”
“Metaphorical stains,” Dani quickly added. “Like crypto trading or owning podcast equipment.”
I dropped my face into my hands. “What’s the point of even trying?”
“Because you’re brave,” Dani defended immediately. “And curious.”
“And you want someone to crack you in half,” Xan added around a wink.
A drizzle of shoppers wandered past the tent, but neither of my friends looked away from me. The attention made my cheeks warm in that itchy, uncomfortable way, like a sweater that didn’t quite fit.
“I’m serious. I don’t know if I’m cut out for this. The whole meeting-people, trusting-people, kissing-people thing.”
Xan’s brows softened. “Bella—”
“Just look at my track record. It’s abysmal.” I threw my hands up. “There was the guy who kept calling me by the wrong name and then tried to gaslight me into believing that I had it wrong. And the ‘entrepreneur’ who tried to convince me to join his pyramid scheme.”
Dani held up a finger. “Don’t forget the one who made you take the online quiz to determine if you were ‘sexually compatible’ during appetizers.”
Xan’s head spun like something out of a horror movie. “And were you?”
I shook my head. “According to the results, I possess ‘high exploratory potential,’ which apparently didn’t match well with his ‘beginner-level intimacy readiness.’”
Dani arched a perfectly winged brow. “Belles, you’re twenty-three. It’s okay to still be figuring things out.”
“Yeah, but other people my age have . . . done stuff.”
“You’re allowed to take your time,” she said flatly.
I swallowed. My voice dropped to a mumble. “Well, taking my time has resulted in . . . vaginal cobwebs.”
Xan blinked, processing. “Is that actually a—”
“No,” Dani answered. “Sweetie, there’s nothing wrong with being inexperienced or holding out for somebody worthwhile. Whatiswrong is wasting your time on twenty-year-old fucks who don’t deserve you.”
“Exactly.” Xan snapped their fingers. “Besides, why are you dating these losers when there’s literally someone already interested in you?”
I choked on nothing. “Who?”
They exchanged a knowing look, and something inside me prickled with anticipation. Or dread . . . or maybe a bit of both.
The truth was, I had never been great at reading people. Half the time, I couldn’t tell if someone was being nice because they were interested in me or because they were being, well, nice. So maybe,theoretically,it was possible someone had been into me and I just hadn’t noticed.
Highly unlikely, but possible.
“Who?” I repeated, because surely I’d misheard them.
“Oh, I don’t know, Belles,” Xan mused. “How many jacked pro-baseball players with an ass made for bouncing coins off ofdo you know who would drive an hour out of their way to drop off their teammate’s sister?”
I blinked rapidly, counted to three, and then burst into laughter—actual, full-body, ridiculous laughter that was loud enough to make a few passersby glare.
“No,” I protested between ragged breaths. “Absolutely not. Bennett doesn’t— He would never—”
Dani snorted. “Bella, come on. The man looks at you like you’re an iced coffee in July.”
“He does not,” I argued, heat crawling up my neck. “He’s just . . . nice.”
