Page 78 of Hate To Be Mine

“Do you want to keep seeing her?”

“Yes. Obviously. But it’s complicated.”

“Why?”

“Because we live in different worlds and this whole thing started as a disaster and I don’t know how we got here but I’m in so deep I can’t see the surface anymore. She’s never going to see beyond the exterior.”

“Oh, poor super model.” She fake pouted. “Sebastian is so hot all the girls fall at his feet.”

“Yes. Exactly. I don’t want her to think I’m just a pretty face.”

“Convince her you’re not,” she said.

“How?”

She shrugged. “I can’t tell you that. You have to figure out how to get her to see you.”

“I don’t know,” I groaned. “Do I really have to work that hard?”

“Oh man, you have no idea how hard I made Adrian work. If she’s worth it, you’ll do backflips naked over hot coals if she asks you to.”

I chuckled. “That’s an interesting visual.”

“You’re in love with her.”

I started to deny it, then stopped. “Fuck. Yeah. I think I am.”

“You think?”

“I know. I know I am.” Saying it out loud felt terrifying and liberating at the same time. “I’m in love with her. Buzzkill Bernadette. The insurance robot. The woman who made my life hell. I’m completely gone for her and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Have you told her?”

“No! Are you insane? I can’t just blurt that out. I don’t do this, Lizzie. I don’t fall in love. I don’t have feelings. I have fun. I keep things light. I don’t know how to do the whole vulnerable honesty thing.”

“Then you’re going to lose her.” Elizabeth’s voice was gentle but firm. “Because from what I’ve seen, Bernadette isn’t the kind of woman who does casual. She needs to know where she stands. What this means to you.”

“What if I tell her and she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“What if you don’t tell her and you lose her anyway?” She got up and went to the small pantry area. I popped the last bit of my donut into my mouth and followed her to see what else I could find.

Elizabeth opened a bag of Doritos, went to the small fridge, and grabbed one of the ranch cups.

“Have you been sneaking in here every night?” I asked.

She winced. “I know. I’m so bad, but the snacks are endless and I can’t resist.”

“I’ve known her for less than a week,” I said, switching back to my troubles.

“Adrian and I fell in love in about two weeks.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because you guys make sense. You’re both serious, responsible, mature adults. Bernadette and I are a disaster waiting to happen. Okay, she’s not the disaster—I am.”

“Or you’re two people who balance each other out. You make her lighter. She makes you more grounded. That’s not a disaster. That’s a partnership.”