A full five seconds passed before finally, June spoke again, her voice careful and measured. “Is . . . is there more?”
I sighed, slumping back in my chair. “That’s all of it.”
That’s when the dam broke.
A series of high-pitched squeaks turned into full-on screams.
Nessa slammed both palms on the table and shouted, “I knew it!” while June threw her head back and cackled like a supervillain.
Nero leaned in the doorway, smirking. “Everything okay in here?”
“We’re good!” Nessa said, waving him off while grinning like a maniac. “You owe me twenty bucks, though.”
He shook his head and disappeared again.
I waited until the chaos settled into breathless giggles. “Okay, now that you’ve gotten that out of your system, please help me. Where do I go from here?”
Clarke recovered first, reaching her hand across the table. “He doesn’t regret it, Belles. Trust me. He’s probably just freaking out because he’s worried about moving too fast.”
“What if I want him to move fast?”
Dani nodded. “Then tell him. Men are clueless, babe.”
“It’s true,” Jo said, raising his lager. “We are.”
“They need to be told exactly what you want. If you want him to kiss you, touch you, you’re going to have to tell him so.”
June wagged her brows. “In the most direct way possible.”
“You’re not some fragile waif, Belles,” Nessa encouraged. “You’re a grown woman who knows what she wants. Remind him of that.”
I exhaled, the last of the nerves unraveling. “You’re right. All of you.”
Clarke winked. “Of course we are. Now go get your catcher.”
I laughed, warmth spreading through me. Their words settled over me like a warm blanket, chasing away the chill of doubt that had been clinging to me for days. I’d spent so long bracing for rejection that I’d almost convinced myself Bennett’s silence meant exactly that.
But hearing it laid out like this, plain and simple, made the fear feel smaller. Silly, even.
He wasn’t running from me. He was trying not to hurt me. And honestly? That made me want him even more.
I didn’t want to be the girl who froze up on bad dates or hid behind her hobbies when things got too real. I knew what I wanted now, and for the first time in my life, I wasn’t going to wait around for somebody else to figure it out.
I was going to take June’s suggestion and ask for it . . . in the most direct way possible.
Bennett
Two Months to Opening Day
Laughter echoed through Diaz’s basement home theater.
The kind of laugh that rattled the walls, bounced off the surround sound speakers, and probably scared the neighbors into thinking we were reenacting a bar fight instead of watching Meg Ryan fake an orgasm in a deli.
It was our first M&M night since my move to Rose City—the last before the season ramped up—and it was safe to say that Diaz had been busy since I’d moved out.
His home theater setup had gotten a full HGTV style upgrade. Blackout curtains lined the basement windows, blocking out what little light was left in the day, a massive projector screen dominated the far wall, and the recliners had been rearranged to allow space for a brand new, modular sectional.
Diaz had also installed a full bar along the back wall, complete with glass shelves and under-cabinet lighting that made every bottle look more expensive than it probably was—he was a cheap tequila guy, through and through—and one of those movie theater ICEE machines had been set up next to the popcorn maker.
