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Two months ago, she smiled at me for the first time. Looked at Penny and my brother, Cooper, then back at me and smiled, and I swear the universe tilted on its axis for half a second. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t do a fucking thing but look at that smile and melt.
None of that involves a certain green-eyed baseball player. I’m the one who walked out on him, anyway. I bet he hasn’t thought about me at all.
I still showed up for the date we planned—I waited over two hours just in case she’d show—but she ghosted me.
Sebastian Miller-Callahan. Sebastian, who has been smiling at me ever since the movie theater last fall. Sebastian, who calls me sweet when I come. Sebastian, who threw a punch for me. Who the hell does that?
And then at the bar, some creep tried to take a video of me and Penny, and he tore me away from the fray before jumping in alongside Cooper.
I stop with my foot on the dugout step. “She’s not crazy.” “She’s something,” Hunter mutters. “Don’t,” I snap. “Don’t call her crazy just because she broke up with me. Don’t call anyone crazy, it’s fucking rude.”
and now that I’m with her again—however brief—I don’t want to waste it. I can practically hear Cooper’s voice. Whipped for a girl who won’t give you the time of day?
I need to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. She knows I have a game tomorrow. She’s paying attention, at least on some level.
“That I’m bisexual.” He does look up then. “Why would I care about that?”
You’re drinking a beer, but you prefer bourbon. You’re wearing a pink dress, and you hate pink. You were flirting with a total loser, letting him touch you when you don’t like being touched by strangers.” He cocks his head to the side. “Want me to keep going?”
As soon as I figure out what, I’m going to apologize for as long as it takes to earn her trust again.
If you’re not into him anymore, whatever. But you must have made an impression on him, because he was moping and he never mopes,
As I expected, a pair of black suede boots, identical to the ones I had to throw away, lay nestled in the tissue paper. I check the size automatically. Eight. They’re going to fit perfectly.
I’d rather a scowl from her than a smile from anyone else.
“I distinctly remember, for example, you telling me that if I broke the zipper while undressing you, you wouldn’t let me eat you out. I took them off like they were made of glass.”
Mia Angel, my angel.
but right now, if she admits we’re friends, I’ll suck up my deeper feelings and be with her however she wants. Friends with benefits with her beats a real relationship with anyone else.
When Sebastian had that nightmare before he went to Albany, it was impossible to pretend that it didn’t mean anything. There was nothing casual about soothing his panic or holding him in my arms. I stayed awake long after he fell asleep again, petting his hair, focusing on the way my heart thudded in my chest and imaginary butterflies did swooping dances in my belly.
If it happens again, I want to be the one who is there, ready to help. There’s nothing casual about that. Nothing friendly.
“Sebastian is my son,” Richard says. His tone is mild, but I don’t miss the way his eyes flash. “I have three sons.”
have the sense he would rather perform a root
“You lit up, just now,” she says. “She must mean a lot to you.” “She’s one of the best people I’ve ever known. Absolutely the smartest. I’m just a jock, but she’s special. I’m grateful that she gives me the time of day, much less wants to be with me.”
If I ever meet them, they should run in the opposite direction, because I’ll protect Sebastian with everything I have.
I stride to one of the stalls and bang my fist on it. I don’t know what I’m more pissed about—them talking about Sebastian as if he’s a sex toy, or insinuating that he’s only partly a member of his own family. “You’re talking about Sebastian while his girlfriend is standing right here. Just so you know.”
Part of me always wished I could escape to one of those worlds, but I don’t want that anymore. I belong right here, with him, and that is more beautiful than anything I could ever dream up while gazing into a telescope. It’s strange. It’s terrifying. It’s beautiful. “I love you,” I whisper.
“It wasn’t a phase,” I say, my voice slipping lower. “She’s bisexual. So yeah, she could be with a girl right now, or a person who identifies some other way. But she’s not. She’s with me, and I’m fucking grateful for it.”
“She’s my girlfriend. It’s serious. Watch your mouths around me.”
“Respectfully, sir,” I say, “it’s not my job to keep her in line. I love her, I support her, but I’m not her keeper.”
“I just figured it wouldn’t be a good look for my first meeting with my future in-laws.” Bex clasps her hands together. “It’s that serious?” “I sure as hell hope so,” I say, scrubbing my hand through my hair. “I love her.”
“Thank you, Mom and Dad.”
he’s wearing a new necklace around his throat. My Christmas present to him, which I gave him after our Monopoly win against his siblings on Christmas Eve. A gold compass to match the star he gave me last summer.
“Cooking is art. Baking is science.”
No wonder I’m better at baking
“You’re lucky I love you,” I grumble. “Oh, believe me, I know.”
Maybe changing your mind about something fundamental isn’t a betrayal, but a sign of growth.
Good thing . . . being here, finally. With you.” “That’s always your good thing, babe.” “That’s because you are my good thing.”
if I’m going to marry anyone—if I’m going to call anyone my husband—I want it to be you. I want to wear your ring.”
