Chapter 11 #2
He was in his unofficial uniform—a black, button-down shirt, sleeves tight around inked forearms, dark brown hair pulled into a small ponytail at the base of his neck that somehow looked effortlessly cool instead of trying too hard.
A few days’ scruff shadowed his jaw, and those dark eyes scanned the table with easy familiarity as he distributed glasses.
“Blueberry mojito for the bee queen,” he said, setting my usual in front of me with a flourish. His voice was low, warm, the kind that made you feel like you’d known him forever, even if you’d never seen him outside of his workplace.
“Thanks, Nero.” I took the drink, smiling up at him.
He really was a good-looking guy, rugged in that freshly rolled out of bed kind of way. Not that I was looking. Much.
He winked and moved on to the others. “Cider for the bard, whiskey sour for the rogue, and . . . Jo, are you still on that fancy lager?”
“You know me too well,” Jo said, accepting the bottle with a grin.
Nero set the pretzel basket in the center like an offering and headed back out with a casual, “Holler if you need anything,” over his shoulder.
The door clicked shut, and Nessa cleared her throat, tapping her binder. “Alright, folks, let’s get this campaign moving so Coach Daddy can get some before the baby wakes up.”
We dove straight into the game, picking up right where we’d left off last session. Our party, fresh off slaying a corrupted dryad in the Whispering Woods, had stumbled into a fog-shrouded village plagued by zombie elflings.
Nessa took over narration duties tonight, her voice dropping into that perfect spooky register as she described the eerie silence of the abandoned streets, the flickering lantern light, and the first tiny, shambling figures emerging from the mist.
Clarke’s ranger went full stealth mode, scouting ahead and nailing a perception check that revealed the elflings weren’t undead at all—they’d been cursed by a hag’s bargain gone wrong.
It took three rounds of chaotic, hilarious combat, complete with a near total party kill when the hag herself showed up and charmed half the party, but thankfully, we were able to fight her off and take home some treasure in the process.
As we divvied up the fictional loot, the conversation eased away from the table. Clarke leaned back, stretching her arms overhead. “Y’all should know that we finally set a date. May 1st. You’re all invited, obviously.”
Dani reached for her phone. “I’m literally making a note to request a babysitter now.”
Nessa raised her glass. “I’ll bring lots of tissues.”
June smirked. “And I’ll bring a flask.”
Clarke rolled her eyes, then turned to me with a hopeful glint. “Belles, do you think you’ll want a plus one? How did things go with that guy the other night?”
I snorted into my mojito. “Bad enough that he unmatched me before I made it home. But . . .”
The table quieted for a beat; everyone’s attention settled on me.
“Something did happen after the date.”
Clarke set down her pretzel mid-bite.
“And before I tell you, you have to promise to let me get it all out before you get all weird or loud, okay?”
“I resent that,” June said. “I’m weird and loud.”
I lifted a finger. “I’m serious.”
“We will contain ourselves.” Nessa eyed the rest of the group. “I promise.”
“Okay,” I relented finally after they all nodded, some more convincingly than others. “Okay.”
I took a breath.
“Bennett kissed me.” The words tumbled out before I could overthink them.
“At my door, after my date. It was intense, to say the least, and oh god, I never wanted it to stop. But then, I told him I was . . . inexperienced and he disappeared after that. Three days, not a word. And now, I’m worried he’s going to treat me like I’m made of glass.
Or even worse, that he regrets kissing his teammate’s sad, virgin sister. ”
The room went dead silent.
Five pairs of eyes stared at me, wide and unblinking.
Nessa’s mouth was buried behind both hands, Clarke looked like she was physically holding back a squeal with every muscle in her face, and Jo had his hands clenched in Dani’s.
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.