Georgia and I harvested some produce for her to take home. “How do you know when the tomatoes are ready?” she asked.
I explained what to look for, pointing out some that were overripe or underripe.
“So, timing is important,” she said.
“Very.” I narrowed my eyes at her. I could read through the lines, and she wasn’t being all that subtle.
“You might be an expert at harvesting tomatoes?—”
“An expert.” I laughed, tossing some of the ripe ones into my basket. “Hardly.”
“Kylie’s an expert too.”
“At harvesting tomatoes?” I asked, intentionally misinterpreting Georgia’s statement.
“Bryn,” Georgia chided.
I blew out a breath. Frasier and I had talked about our relationship and how we wanted to announce it, the potential public response. Despite what Kylie had said about the mostly positive comments, I was still nervous to take that next step. To go from speculation to confirmation.
“Do you have reservations about Frasier or your relationship?” she asked.
“No.” I shook my head. “None.” I took a deep breath. “I’m finally happy again, and I don’t want anything to ruin it.”
“What if it doesn’t ruin it? What if it’s actually better? Aren’t you sick of sneaking around? Frasier’s been really patient, butkeeping this secret might be hurting him. Don’t you want to go to his games?”
I swallowed hard. I hated the idea of hurting Frasier, but the games were a sticking point for me. Because, of course, I wanted to support Frasier. But I also didn’t know how to do that without feeling as if I were betraying Derek. And I was afraid that if I voiced that aloud, no one would understand.
“Bryn?” she asked in a gentle tone, stepping closer to place her hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“I—” The words got stuck in my throat. “I want to go to the games, but it’s complicated.”
She nodded, patiently waiting for me to elaborate.
“This is going to sound ridiculous, but whose jersey would I even wear?”
“Only you can answer that.” She smiled then, guiding me back inside. “But I’m sure Kylie would have a few ideas.”
We headed back into the house. I talked with Georgia and Kylie for a while longer, grateful for my friends. I’d known they would never judge me, even as I grappled with the complicated feelings that accompanied grief. Instead, they’d been compassionate and supportive, listening and helping me work through my thoughts.
By the time I wished Georgia and Kylie a good night, I felt better. I might not have a concrete plan for how to juggle my past with my present, but I knew that Frasier was my future.
I headed upstairs to get ready for bed. After a long, hot shower, I felt even more relaxed. Maybe I didn’t have to have all the answers so long as I kept an open mind. I’d just finished slipping into my pjs when my phone rang. I reached for it, smiling when I saw Frasier’s name on the screen with a request for FaceTime. I hit the button to connect the call and rested my phone against the bathroom mirror so I could see him while getting ready for bed.
“Congratulations!” I beamed at him, and he smiled back at me from his hotel room. He was shirtless, and the lighting was low, almost as if he was getting ready for bed too.
“Thanks, angel. I take it you watched the game.”
“Of course.” I reached for my under-eye cream, dabbing it onto my skin. “You had some really nice saves in the second period. And that final attempted goal—” I clutched my chest. “Ugh. That was a nail-biter. Good save, Bear.”
He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, now damp from a shower. “Thanks. Doing some self-care?”
“Yes.” I smirked as I applied my lifting oil. “But not likethat.”
“Mm.” He leaned his head back against the upholstered headboard, his lips curving into a smile. His bare chest was on display, and I wanted to run my fingers down the muscles. Rest my head over his heart. “It could be likethat.I did just win a game. Feels like we should celebrate.”
“You didn’t want to go out with the team?” I applied my last layer of oil. I stood back, peering at my reflection. I looked like a glazed donut.Perfect.
“A few of the younger guys went out, but I didn’t feel like it.”
