Chapter 3 Bella #2
“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. What is wrong 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 of do 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.”
Xan wiggled their brows. “Honey, nobody is that nice.”
I pulled the edges of my jacket closer, trying to contain whatever fluttery nonsense had started up in my chest. Wanting Bennett was one thing. Thinking he might want me back? That was a fantasy I had no business touching, not even with metaphorical gloves
I shook my head, flustered. “You’re wrong. He’s Jared’s teammate, and he’s older. And he’s about to be my neighbor.”
Dani winked. “Exactly.”
“Plus, if memory serves, you already went on a date with him,” Xan added with a Cheshire cat grin.
My stomach dropped. Of course they remembered that.
“It wasn’t a date,” I said much too quickly. “It was for charity.”
It was hard to say what had possessed me to bid on Bennett during the Buns & Roses bachelor auction. At the time, I had only been in town for a few weeks, still living out of boxes and trying to convince myself I wasn’t a complete failure for dropping out of college.
And then, Bennett King had walked out onto that stage, all six-foot-three inches of quiet, gentle-giant energy wrapped in a suit that did unspeakably excellent things for his thighs.
Best two-thousand dollars of my brother’s money I had ever spent.
We’d had one dinner. One perfectly normal, very not-date dinner at a restaurant that was better suited for elderly brunch crowds than anything resembling romance.
Not that it mattered, because it hadn’t been a real date anyway.
It had been a charity-mandated meal where I absolutely had not stared at his hands the entire time.
I straightened and forced finality into my voice.
“I appreciate your encouragement,” I started, flicking my wrist like I was shooing the idea into the void.
“But it doesn’t matter. Bennett is my brother’s teammate, and I’m not about to complicate my life—or his—because I can’t tell the difference between kindness and flirting.
So, we’re not going to talk about this anymore.
Case closed. Chapter over. Roll credits. ”
Xan opened their mouth, undoubtedly to argue, but thankfully the universe had other plans.
“Hell’s bells, look what the cat dragged in.”
Clarke barreled toward our booth in a blaze of blonde hair and pastel enthusiasm. Soren followed close, silent and watchful, the human embodiment of a German shepherd—steady, loyal, and clearly prepared to body-check a zucchini vendor if they so much as brushed her elbow.
They were the perfect vision of opposites attracting.
Clarke was all sunshine and Southernisms, who dressed head to toe in pink like a walking macaroon.
Soren was tall and stoic, an intimidating wall of muscle who communicated mostly in grunts and nods.
Who would’ve guessed that the two of them would fit together as seamlessly as tea and honey?
“I thought you were out of town this—”
Clarke thrust out her left hand before Dani could finish.
The ring caught what little light filtered through the gray morning sky—an oval diamond set in a delicate halo of rose gold, glittering like it had been handcrafted by woodland fairies. It wasn’t gaudy, or oversized, or what someone would buy to make a statement.
It was soft. Romantic. So very Clarke.
And judging by the way he hovered just behind her shoulder, so very Soren, too.
Xan gasped like they’d just witnessed the most epic plot twist. Dani squealed, clapping her hands together, and I felt my breath hitch before a smile slowly stretched across my face.
“Oh my god,” I said, my heart warming in a way I didn’t totally expect. “You’re engaged?”
Clarke nodded so hard, her curls bounced, gaze flicking up to Soren with a glow that could’ve powered the entire market.
“We sure are,” she confirmed, voice thick with joy.
And for a moment, despite the rain, my cursed dating résumé, and whatever nonsense my heart was currently cooking up, life felt weirdly warm and golden.
Just like honey.