Page 64 of Blush Crush

She tucks her nose under her tail and goes back to sleep, proving my point.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what Cole said. About figuring out what I like. About being prepared. It’s a reasonable thing. It makes sense. What twenty-three-year-old woman doesn’t know what she likes yet? Sometimes I think I’m the only woman my age who’s this inexperienced. It would be one thing if I were waiting for the perfect guy or had some religious reason behind it all, but really it’s just that I’m afraid. I’m afraid of everything. I’m literally afraid of my own body. How can I expect Cole tomagically make it all better when I don’t even know where to start myself?

I look at the hallway that leads to my bedroom, where I know in the nightstand there’s a perfectly good toy just waiting to be used.

Maybe it’s time I stopped being so afraid and finally do something about it.

CHAPTER 20

Cole

FORGET THE TOY

Ican’t sleep.

Tomorrow we drive to the lake house. In less than twelve hours Ariana and I walk through that door together for the first time as a couple—fake or otherwise—and face her siblings. I should be sleeping. Instead I’ve been lying awake for the better part of an hour staring at the ceiling, running through scenarios, when my phone lights up.

It’s late. Late enough that my first instinct is that something’s wrong. I reach for it fast, and when I see her name on the screen a shock of adrenaline courses through me—and for one terrible second I think she’s calling to cancel, call this whole thing off.

“Hello?” I answer evenly despite my racing heart. It doesn’t matter that it’s probably not an emergency—I can’t help the way my brain works.

“Hi,” Ariana says so quietly I almost don’t hear her.

My heart rate steadies, but a sense of dread still settles low in my gut. She doesn’t sound like herself. “Are you okay?” I sit up and rub my eyes.

“Yeah,” she says through a humorless laugh.

Something in me calms at the sound of her dry laugh, and I lean back against the headboard. Not canceling. Just calling.

“Why the late call, doll? Can’t let go of your work schedule even on vacation?”

“How do you know my work schedule?”

“I pay attention to things,” I say a touch defensively. “You own a coffee shop and everything’s baked fresh. It’s an easy assumption.”

“Right.” She chuckles like it was silly for her to question me.

When really, she’s right to question it. It makes sense that a coffee shop owner would be up early—but the only reason I know for sure is because I slept at the tasting room one night during renovations. It was an accident. One minute I was lying on the floor staring at paint swatches and the next I was out cold.

It wasn’t the stiffness that woke me. It was humming.

Beautiful humming, sounding through the wall. I thought I was hallucinating, possibly inhaled too much paint. I forced myself to go investigate and followed it until it led me next door, to a door cracked open just enough to let warm light spill through.

And there she was—cheeks dusted with flour, eyes heavy with sleep, a soft melody moving through her lips as she rolled out dough.

I don’t think I’d ever seen someone look so purely happy. I knew who she was, had seen her countless times running Novel, but something about this felt different. Like I was seeing her clearly for the first time. Not a Ledger. Not Ethan’s little sister. Just a beautiful woman—and I was a man, captivated.

I stood there longer than I should have before I went back. Later that morning, I stopped by Novel and it became a habit. Seeing her became a habit.

“I’m sorry for calling so late,” she says, pulling my attention back.

Between family visiting and exhaustion from having to socialize with them all, fielding questions about my relationshipstatus and when I’m going to settle down, I haven’t gotten to talk to Ariana as much. I’ve missed her. The sound of her voice, her smile, everything.

“I wasn’t asleep. What’s up?”

She’s quiet for a stretch. I imagine her biting her lip and it makes me smile.

“Spit it out. Obviously you called for a reason.”