Crush - Kelsie Rae Page 0,44

texts. Of course, I had to come,” she counters with a smile. “And don’t apologize. You’re fine. Besides, we love going on field trips.”

“I’d hardly call a visit to my house a field trip.”

“You’d be surprised.” Setting the car seat next to the couch in the family room, Dylan plops down onto it then rests her elbows on her knees and orders, “Now, spill.”

So I do. The non-dates every night after work. The farmer’s markets. The cooking. The moments when I’d find him staring at me with a soft expression that apparently, I completely misread. All of it.

“Let me get this straight,” Dylan clarifies once I’ve finished spilling my guts. “He came here. He told you that he’s in awe of you.” She pauses and waits for me to confirm her understanding. After I nod, she continues, “Okay. Then he opened up about his wife a little bit. Told you about his day at work. Then he kissed you. Am I right?”

“Yes?” I shake my head, second-guessing myself. “I don’t know anymore. I’ve replayed the moment a thousand times, and now, I’m questioning everything. He told me he was going to kiss me, and then he told me to help him not overthink it. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but maybe I couldn’t pull him out of his head enough. Maybe––”

“I’m going to stop you right there, Marcy. What happened is in no way your fault. Do you understand that?”

“But––”

“No. No buts. You did nothing wrong. And the pain you’re drowning in right now is not your fault.”

I shrug, hating all my stupid insecurities that I thought I’d had under control until I was proved very wrong. “Maybe I pushed him, Dylan. I’ve been attracted to him from the very beginning. I offered to do the whole friends-with-benefits thing, but he turned me down at the last second, and we settled for just friends. And because I’m so damn lonely, I said yes, even though my emotions have been all over the place ever since.” I chew on my thumbnail for a second before admitting the truth, no matter how much it hurts to voice out loud. “I like him, Dyl. I like him a lot. And when I finally gave in to those feelings, it felt really good. It felt like the real deal. And that’s what hurts the most.”

Pulling me into another hug on the couch, she rubs her hand up and down my back. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. What are you going to do?”

I wiggle out of her grasp and wipe a few more tears from beneath my eyes. “I’m going to just pretend it never happened. I think that’s probably the only route I can go right now because we have the baby photo shoot later today, and I’ll have to face him.”

Her face falls. “It’s today?”

“Yup.”

“Do you want me to come?”

Shaking my head, I steel my resolve. “No. It’s okay. Thank you, though. I appreciate your support.”

“And you have it,” she replies. “I’ll be here for the next few months to write a few more songs before heading back to LA to record them, so don’t hesitate to reach out next time, okay?”

“I won’t. I just felt bad. You have your new baby and your sweet husband. I didn’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden––”

“I’m always a burden,” I correct her.

“You’re not,” she insists before mumbling under her breath, “I seriously am going to kill Ben.”

“Don’t. It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

“You’re not fine, but you will be. And…if you decide to cut him a little slack, I think that’s okay too. Not because he isn’t an ass, but because he’s kind of a broken ass who’s only living with half his heart, and I think that would be really hard.”

“I know,” I whisper. “Now, let me hold your little nugget. I need someone to put a smile on my face, and she’s the perfect candidate for the job.”

Grinning, Dylan pulls out the most perfect little baby I’ve ever seen and places her in my arms. “Deal.”

18

Marcy

“Hello?” I answer my phone while juggling my keys and locking the door. My car is already packed to the gills with backdrops, lightboxes, a few props, and my camera, but if I don’t hurry, I’ll still wind up late to the photo shoot which will make me even more embarrassed around a certain someone, and I really don’t need the added humiliation.

“Hello?” the voice returns. “Is this Marcy? Marcy Holden?”

I