Chapter Twenty-Two #2
“I’ll be okay.” Bo said the words like a prayer, hoping they would come true. “I’ll be fine. It just . . . it hurts, Wills. I didn’t know. Honestly, I didn’t.”
“Didn’t know what?”
“How much it hurts. Loving someone who doesn’t love you back.
I mean, it hurt when Oliver left me for Phoebe.
But that was more like a sting, a puncture wound to my pride more than my heart.
” Bo felt sadness wash over her. “Max not loving me is like having a stake driven through my soul. I didn’t know how much I needed him until I had him, and then I didn’t know how much I didn’t have him until I needed him. ”
Swallowing more wine down over the lump in her throat, Bo passed her phone to Willa, showing her the one and only message Max had ever sent her. She watched as Willa read it quickly, a slight furrow to her brow.
“What was obvious this morning?” Willa asked, before she frowned again. “And what does ‘extrapolate’ mean?”
Bo blushed again. “You know when you have amazing sex which is soft and gentle and loving and it’s so obvious how you feel about someone that you can’t hide it?”
Something in Willa’s face changed, a look so poignant sweeping her features that Bo wondered exactly what had happened between her and Berg in LA.
“Yes,” Willa said quietly.
“Well, that’s what happened with Max. We had this amazing, passionate, romantic sex, and I couldn’t hide how I felt from him. I even stopped at one point to smile at him.” Bo buried her face in Max’s ugly shirt in embarrassment.
Willa seemed to think for a moment. “Did he smile back?”
“What?” Bo’s words and face were still muffled in Max’s shirt, and she felt Willa reach over and pull the garment away from her.
“I said, did he smile back?”
“What does that matter? He left, didn’t he? Went back to Berlin.”
Willa gave her a look. “It matters, trust me. Tell me, did Mr Two out of Ten—”
“Max.”
“Fine, fine. Did Max smile back at you?”
Bo thought back to the morning. She thought back to sitting astride Max, their foreheads touching, and how her arms had been around his neck and his around her waist. She thought back to the feel of his skin under her fingertips, and how she’d traced her hand down his spine, so that he’d made a noise of pleasure before her.
She remembered looking in his eyes, nose to nose with him, and smiling at him.
All the love she held for him had been poured into that smile, and she remembered Max moving his hands to her face, tracing the contour of her cheeks, smiling back at her and—
“He did smile back,” Bo whispered. “He smiled back at me.”
Willa paused. “He smiled back at you?”
“Yes. He did.”
For a moment Willa was still, and then, when Bo was least expecting it, she tossed Max’s shirt back at her so that it slapped her on the face.
“Hey!” Bo protested, but Willa hit her with the shirt again.
“Oh, my God, Bo, men don’t smile back at women during sex if they’re not interested in them!
” Willa exclaimed. “It’s like Sex 101. Amazing, emotional and romantic sex is a two-way street, you know?
It’s not just you showing him you care for him .
. . did you even stop to think that maybe, just maybe, he cares for you too? ”
“Well, no,” admitted Bo. “Why would I? Men like Max don’t date women like me.”
Willa froze. “Women like you? Explain yourself on that one, please.”
Bo shrugged awkwardly. “I mean, Max is really clever, and talented, and successful, and I’m just—”
“I’m sorry, you’re just what? You’re clever. I mean, you don’t use words like ‘extrapolate’, but then, no one does.”
“Max does.”
“What? You mean Max, your abrasive and unpleasant two out of ten?”
Bo frowned. “I really wish I hadn’t said that. I didn’t know Max then. Not like I know him now.”
Willa took a deep breath. “Max might be clever, and he might be talented, and he might be successful, but you are too, Bo.”
“I’m an out-of-work actress,” Bo replied, rolling her eyes.
“No. You’re an in-work florist, and a damn talented one at that.
Ida Dynowsiak has been running her flower shop for decades, and you’re the first person she’s ever let go with her to New Covent Garden Market to help choose flowers.
She respects your judgement and talent and so do I.
” Willa hit Bo with the shirt again. “I wish you could see yourself like everyone else does. I wish you could see yourself like I see you.”
Bo made no reply. It was hard to see herself as anything other than what her mother had spent years telling her she was: a pretty face to sell and not much more. So, she chewed on her lip for a moment, saying nothing. Willa hit her with the shirt again.
“You’re amazing, Bo. But sometimes? Sometimes you’re so blind you can’t see what’s right in front of you, including just how amazing you are. Or,” Willa added with a sly grin, “when men are so crazy about you that they return your smile during amazing, romantic and passionate sex.”
She went to hit Bo with Max’s shirt again, but Bo was too quick for her, grabbing the purple fabric from her hand and wrenching it back.
“This belongs to me,” she reminded Willa with a grin.
“It’s hideous.”
“It’s Max’s,” Bo replied firmly, and Willa gave her an amazed look.
“God, you really are in love, aren’t you?” she remarked. “I’ve never seen you like this before. Never seen you so . . . what’s the word? Invested. Invested in a man.”
Bo shrugged. “It had to happen sometime. Look, I’m as surprised by this as anyone.
I really did go into this arrangement with Max thinking I could sleep with him and not let feelings get involved.
I mean, he was the perfect candidate, right?
I didn’t find him attractive, I didn’t really like him, but he was conveniently there .
. .” Bo sighed. “But oh, Wills, once I got to know him. Once I got to know him, it was like falling under a spell or something. I didn’t want to fall in love with him.
I didn’t want to like him. But I did. I do,” she corrected herself. “I do love him, and I do like him.”
“Well.” Willa lay back on Bo’s bed. “You need to tell him.”
“Ida said the same thing.”
“Ida’s right, but then, Ida’s always right. Come on, Bo, tell him. I’ve read his message to you. I know you’re reading it as he figured out you love him and ran for it, but there is another option.”
“There is?” Bo asked sceptically.
“Yep.” Willa sat up again, and without Max’s shirt to hit Bo in the face with, made do with poking her on the shoulder instead. “Maybe he thought that you’d figured out how he feels, and didn’t care.”
It was like having the wind knocked out of her lungs. Bo stared at Willa, completely stunned, as well as suddenly, perhaps foolishly, full of hope.
“Really?” she breathed. “Do you think so?”
“Maybe.” Willa grinned. “Come on, let’s look up the word ‘extrapolate’ and then you can tell me more about this amazing, romantic and passionate sex you had.”
“You’re sitting on the sheets where we did it, so you already have a visual.”
Willa’s face changed, and she jumped up. “Eww, eww, eww. Bo, you’re sick, clean your sheets.”
Bo grinned. “I meant to; I didn’t know you were coming over. You distracted me.”
Willa’s smile faded. “I should have been over sooner. I shouldn’t have left it so long. I’m really sorry, Bo.”
Bo shook her head. “You had Berg stuff going on.”
“Yeah, I did, but it’s no excuse.”
“Look, Wills, about you and Berg, and you and Scarrow—”
Willa cut her off, however. “I’m going to be okay with Scarrow. Really, I am. Besides, it’s too late for me and Berg. It’s always been too late for me and Berg.” She gave Bo a hug. “But it’s not too late for you and Mr Two out of Ten.”