Bellamy sets her fork down next to her plate. “I saw the perfect retirement house today. I think it’s probably sold, but it would’ve made the perfect place to just go and relax and enjoy your life.”
I set my fork down too. “Is that the one you went to with Riss?”
She nods.
“Where was it?” Oliver asks.
“I honestly have no idea.” Bellamy laughs. “It was on Bittersweet Court. I just remember that street name because it felt so lovely.”
Boone hops off the counter. “Hey, yeah, Riss was telling me about that place. Apparently, you’re quite the little realtor.”
“You are?” I look at her. “What happened?”
She blushes as my brothers, except Wade, look at her.
“I just … I don’t know. I told this couple who was looking at the house with their actual realtor all the things I’d do to it if it were mine.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Connie, that’s the realtor’s name, wasn’t doing the house justice. And it broke my heart that it was starting to get dilapidated. So I sold it. I think. I mean, I didn’t,” she stammers. “I just … maybe I helped.”
She looks so proud of herself that it makes me proud of her.
I grab her hand under the table and lace our fingers together.
She looks at me, her cheeks flushing.
“Have you ever thought about being a realtor?” I ask her. “I can see you being great at that. You can be so convincing.”
Holt snorts. “Oh, like she had to convince you to see the light about the two of you. You’ve been in love with Bells since you were toddlers.”
I don’t know whether to agree or disagree with that.
My brothers snicker at my expense.
“What’s not to love?” I ask, squeezing Bellamy’s hand.
Her brows raise as if she’s surprised about my semi-declaration in front of my family. I pause, waiting to see if I’ll feel the same. If I’ll regret it. If it was an impulse statement stemming from her proximity or hormones.
But with each second that passes, I feel more content.
There will come a day when you just know. And …
It’s a weight off my shoulders, a burden I’ve been carrying that I didn’t even realize. The tension that always sits at the bottom of my skull, the undercurrent that swims through me every day that something is not quite right—it’s gone.
I could never put my finger on it. I always attributed it to residual stress, or being behind on deadlines, or anxiety about the press, or ticket sales, or balancing everything in my life.
But it’s clear at this moment it was none of those things.
It was not having her.
My brain, my heart—fuck, my soul—knew what I needed. I just didn’t listen.
I smile at her, and when she smiles back with a happiness that encompasses her, a shock of fear pelts my heart.
What if I ruin that? What if I fuck it up? What if she can’t handle my life or sees something in the media that makes her second-guess me?
What if … what if she realizes she doesn’t love me, after all?
What if she realizes I’m not good enough for her?
My body stills as my palms begin to sweat. Bellamy’s smile wobbles as she takes me in. She reads me like only she can and squeezes my hand back.
Our heads all turn as the side door opens. Larissa and Hollis walk in together.
The volume increases as everyone shares hellos, and Mom ushers them into the kitchen to get food. Bellamy and Oliver strike up a conversation about houses, and Holt gets sidetracked by Blaire.
Hollis slips out of the kitchen and crouches down beside my chair.
“Hey, man,” he says. “I got into town pretty late last night. I was going to call you today.”
“No worries. How have ya been?”
He nods. “Pretty damn good, I guess. You?”
I glance at Bellamy. She rests her chin on her hand as she listens to Oliver drone on about architecture.
“Pretty damn good, too,” I say, turning back to Hollis. “I’m probably going to have to get an album together quickly coming up, so if you have any inspiration or poems or lyrics, fire ’em my way.”
His eyes twinkle. He loves music as much as I do. It’s happenstance that we met—two guys from different places and very different lives. But from the moment he walked into the library upstairs on New Year’s Eve and sat at the piano, our friendship has been the easiest, coolest, and most organic connection I’ve ever had with a guy.
He works his ass off. The eagerness this dude has to learn and absorb is wild. His creative streak and natural talent are insane, and if anyone deserves to have a chance to better himself, it’s Hollis Hudson.
Without a doubt.
“I always have ideas,” he says, stealing a glance at Larissa. “Feeling really inspired lately.”
A melody that began to surface in the middle of breakfast starts to trickle through my mind again.
“Yeah. Same.” Finally.
We exchange a smile that says everything that needs to be said.
Larissa barrels into the room like the shot of sunshine that she is. She does a little dance at seeing Bellamy and me together.
“I love this!” she squeals. “I don’t have to pretend the other one of you doesn’t exist. Hooray!”
“Tone down the excitement, Riss,” Holt says, shaking his head. “It’s not like you didn’t see this coming.”
She makes a face. “I didn’t. I mean, I totally did. I’d just started to give up on it happening.”
“You do know we’re sitting right here, right?” Bellamy laughs.
“Yeah. Together.” Larissa makes a face. “Holtie, if you’re done, can I have your chair so I can eat?”
Holt grumbles but gets up. Oliver stands, offering his chair to Hollis.
“Do you guys want to double date tomorrow? We could do brunch,” Larissa offers, looking at us expectantly.
Bellamy shifts in her seat. “I have to take Dad for a scan tomorrow,” she says quietly. “I won’t be home until the afternoon.” She looks at me and tries to deflect from the topic of her father. “No Bree for you tomorrow.”
I grin as if that’s a relief, but internally, my stomach twists.
I don’t know what a scan means or what the implications of that are, but I can tell it’s eating at Bellamy. And I’m irritated she didn’t bring it up before now. With me.
Doesn’t she know that I want to know this? I want to know everything.
Mom rounds the corner as she wipes her hands on a white towel. “Where are the two of you going?” she asks my brothers.
“Blaire and I are flying to Chicago for a couple of days in the morning,” Holt says. “I need to tie up a few things here before we go.”
“I’m going to see Gramps,” Oliver says. “Did you make him a plate?”
Mom nods. “Yes. Don’t leave without it. And tell him that he’s coming next week or we’re sending your dad over to get him.”
Holt looks down at me. “Will I see you before you leave?”
Bellamy slips her hand out of mine. I whip my head to her to see her attempting to hide the nervousness in her face.