Page 162 of The Trouble with Flings

“I won’t have a breakdown if I fall in love,” Bellamy insists. “And if keyboard warriors come after me, I’ll kill them with kindness.”

“Absolutely not,” Grant grits out.

He looks at me for backup, but I’m suddenly on the fence. As much as I hate the idea of Bellamy doing something that will open her to ridicule and potentially hurt her and her business if it backfires, I love my sister. I hope she finds a man who loves her as much as I love Jennifer, and who’s to say that won’t happen on national television?

“News flash,” Bellamy says angrily. “I’m an adult. I make my own decisions.”

Grant’s eyes narrow. “Then you’re old enough to know this is a terrible idea.”

“It’s a nationally televised dating show,” Jules argues.

“Exactly,” Grant responds.

“They keep a pretty tight rein on those sets,” Raz says.

“Not tight enough for my little sister,” Grant says.

“I don’t like the idea of it, either,” Leni says. “But on the upside, she could gain another million followers overnight.”

“Yeah, think of the ratings,” Bellamy says.

“Think of the restraining orders,” Grant says gruffly.

“Think of the sponsorship opportunities,” Keira challenges.

“Think of the therapy bills,” Grant insists.

I put up my hand. “All right, you guys, stop.” I sit up and look across the table at them. I know Grant is worried about the same things I am—that some dude is going to break her heart, many female viewers will be jealous of how self-possessed, successful, and beautiful she is, and too many male viewers will see her as nothing more than a piece of meat. But Bellamy is going to do whatever she damn pleases, and she needs to know she won’t lose us in the process.

“We’re just worried about you, Bell,” I say. “You have everything going for you, and yeah, dating is hard, but have you thought this through? What if it goes badly? We don’t want you to spin around one day and realize one decision ruined everything you’ve worked so hard to build.”

“Way to believe in me.” Bellamy sits back, crosses her arms, and looks away.

“I have always believed in you. We all have,” I say, and she slowly looks over, her jaw set tight. “We know how amazing you are. Look at what you’ve built for yourself. You’ve created an empire from nothing more than sheer will and a love for fashion. It’s the show and the strangers watching it that worry us.”

“Exactly,” Grant grits out.

“Then put your trust in me,” she implores, sitting up.

“I am,” I say. “I stand behind you and support whatever you choose, but I hope you won’t put ratings above your self-respect or your heart, because seeing you lose everything you’ve worked so hard to build would break ours.”

She takes a deep breath, then flops back in her chair, blowing it out through puffy cheeks. “I hate you a little right now.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because that was so sweet!” she exclaims.

“Does that mean you won’t go?” Grant asks.

“Hell no!” she says, and we all laugh, the tension easing. “But I’m glad you guys worry about me. It would suck if you didn’t.”

As Bellamy tells everyone about the filming, which starts in September, Jennifer startles beside me, her hand flying to her belly. I reach over and put my hand near hers. She moves it to where hers was and covers it with her own. The baby kicks, and emotion punches through me.

“Did you feel that?” she whispers.

“Yeah. She’s getting so strong.” I lean in and kiss her, my heart tugging in two directions. The next six weeks can’t pass fast enough, but at the same time, I find myself wishing the days would slow, just a little. Soon our world will expand in the most beautiful way, and I’ll have to share her. Our baby girl will need her, too. Until then I will soak up every minute of us, just as we are.

The band starts playing “From the Ground Up” by Dan and Shay. I push to my feet and take her hand, “Come on, wild girl. Let’s dance.” I help her to her feet and walk away from the others, pulling her into my arms in the middle of the lawn and swaying to the music.