Page 37 of Blush Crush

I freaking knew it.

I only charge him for the steamer, and he doesn’t seem to notice. No way in hell am I handing over those croissants. The nerve, sending his brother.

Sadie is quick to whip up his drink. When I slide it across the counter, he looks up at me with those big brown, expectant eyes.

“Tell Cole if he wants those chocolate croissants so badly, he can come in here and get them himself.”

I expect Blake to push back, but instead he barks out a laugh, shaking his head.

“Damn.” A low whistle slips past his lips. “I don’t know what he did, but it must’ve been bad if he managed to piss off the sweetest girl in town.”

“I can’t believe I’m spending my only day off this month watching the most boring sport known to man,” Layla groans.

Looping my arm through hers, I laugh as we make our way toward the clubhouse. The RMVA golf tournament doesn’t start for another thirty minutes, and Layla insists she won’t survive it without a plate of their famous nachos.

The turnout is massive, the crowd swallowing every bit of open space along the course. Together we shoulder our way through it, and I’m embarrassed to admit that beneath the shield of my sunglasses, I’m searching for one person—and one person only.

I’d nearly managed to forget all about Cole—until he sent Blake in to pick up an order he was perfectly capable of getting himself.

I told myself he wasn’t avoiding me. He’s the CEO. It’s harvest season. Life is busy.

Every excuse I made for him crumbled the second Blake walked through the door.

An explanation would be nice. I can’t imagine what I could’ve done to deserve months of very obvious avoidance.

I naively thought we were becoming friends. Real friends. At least that’s how it felt on the patio on that hot summer night. He knows things about me—intimate things.

And just as quickly as he learned some of my deepest secrets, he disappeared without warning.

Which makes me wonder if that’s not a coincidence at all.

My eyes squeeze shut, my face scrunching as I visibly cringe the longer I let that thought sit in my head.

Inside the clubhouse, Layla leads the charge to the counter. The overcrowded space practically parts for her, and all I can do is shake my head as I trail behind. If twins are born with a finite amount of luck, I’d say Layla got all of mine—and then some.

“Want anything?” she asks after ordering her nachos.

I shake my head. My appetite took a nosedive somewhere between parking and the long walk up here. I’d blame it on my impending period, but the nerves twisting in my stomach beg to differ.

Of all the people I thought I’d have anxiety over running into, I never imagined Cole would be one of them.

We settle at a table overlooking the greens. Most of our family is already scattered around the course, but since we’re the two without official job titles, we don’t have much to do besides watch.

The nachos arrive, and Layla wastes no time diving in while I fidget with the sleeve of my jacket. It’s a new jacket. One that’s actually fitted, like a lot of the clothes I’ve been buying recently.

I’m not entirely sure what sparked it, but I had some kind of revelation. Like something in my brain just clicked overnight.

I’m a curvier girl. I’ve always been a curvier girl. That’s not exactly changing anytime soon. So I made the decision to stop treating my body like a problem and start embracing it.

For most of my life I’ve tried to hide it—burying myself in oversized sweaters, baggy tops, anything that disguised my real shape. But lately I’ve been trying something different.

The change hasn’t been drastic. I’m not suddenly strutting around in crop tops or anything. But instead of buying clothes three sizes too big, I’m buying my actual size. Wearing things that fit. Things that show off my waist and hips instead of drowning them out in fabric.

I even started wearing makeup—nothing heavy, just enough to feel polished. A little mascara. A tinted lip. Small things, yet still significant. It’s baby steps, but progress is progress.

I thought I’d feel self-conscious after spending most of my life trying to keep myself hidden. But weirdly it’s the opposite. I feel better. More confident.

I still don’t love drawing attention to myself, but for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m trying to disappear either.