Make Me Yours (Bellamy Creek #2) - Melanie Harlow Page 0,55

self into shape—and we were all due for a photo shoot at three.

Sometime between now and then, I had to prepare myself to face Cole. Walk down the aisle with him. Dance in his arms.

I sank down on a white sofa and gratefully accepted the cup of coffee Blair handed me. “Thanks.”

“What’s the matter?” she asked, sitting opposite me with her legs tucked beneath her. She wore a white fleece robe that had the Cloverleigh Farms insignia on it, and her hair was loose around her shoulders. Even with her face bare of makeup, she looked radiant—like a bride should.

“I feel like such a shitty friend for doing this to you on your wedding day,” I told her. “Part of me wants to lie and tell you everything is fine.”

“I wouldn’t believe you anyway,” she said. “You look like you cried yourself to sleep, if you slept at all.”

“Accurate,” I admitted, taking a sip.

“So talk. We have at least forty-five minutes before the rest of the gang arrives.”

I told her what had happened, watching her expressions run the gamut from surprised to angry to sad to impressed to sympathetic. “Oh, honey,” she said, learning forward to hug me.

“Oh God, don’t make me spill coffee on this white couch,” I said, setting the cup down on the glass coffee table.

“You poor thing.” Blair sat back again. “I can’t believe you walked away.”

“I had to,” I said, spying a box of tissues across the room and getting up to retrieve one. “All of a sudden, it hit me that we weren’t on the same page. I was doing it because I’m in love with him, and he was doing it because it would be fun. But fun can be had with anyone, you know? I was afraid it wouldn’t mean anything to him, and it was going to mean everything to me.” I groaned, snatching a couple tissues from the box. “God, that sounds so juvenile and stupid.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Blair said. “It sounds mature and self-aware. Of course jumping into bed with Cole would be fun, but you know that it probably would have made it harder to deal with the fact that you want something he can’t give.”

“Right,” I said, blowing my nose. “But that’s nothing new. I just wish I hadn’t told him so much, you know? Like why couldn’t I have just pretended like I’d changed my mind about sex and walked out? Now he knows how I feel.”

“Maybe it’s better he knows,” Blair said hopefully. “Maybe he just needs time to process it.”

“No. The more he thinks about it, the more pathetic I’m going to look. I told him I loved him, Blair.” I tossed the tissues out and studied my blotchy face in one of the white-framed mirrors. “Ugh. Can I wear a paper bag over my face today?”

“No,” Blair said, getting off the couch and coming over to where I stood. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders from behind and met my eyes in the mirror. “You are beautiful, and you’ve got no reason to hide. I’m so proud of you for standing up for your heart. I love Cole and I know he’s a good guy, but he doesn’t deserve you if he’s not willing to give a little.”

“I don’t even know what to ask him to give,” I said, trying so hard not to cry, my nose burned. “He’s not lying about how tough it is for him to take on a relationship as a single dad.”

“Plenty of single dads have relationships.”

“But his situation is different, and Mariah is special, and he’s made promises to her and to himself that he can’t break, not even for me.” I squeezed my eyes shut against the tears. “Why would I even expect him to?”

“Because you’re worth it,” Blair said softly, giving me a squeeze. “And something tells me he knows that, and it’s only a matter of time before he comes to his senses.”

I smiled and hugged her arms. “Thank you. Spoken like a true sister. Now what do you say we forget about all my romantic troubles and focus on the fact that you and my brother are getting married today?”

She squealed. “Yes, sister!”

I laughed, feeling better. I might not have romance, but I had love in my life.

Today, I’d celebrate that.

Thirteen

Cole

I’d fucked up, and I knew it.

But it was hard to pinpoint exactly where I’d gone wrong. Was I trying to be someone else? Was it Moretti’s advice? Was I trying to