The Magnolia Chronicles: Adventures in Modern Dating(66)

"Not hardly," he murmured. "But I would've been engaged—maybe even married—to a woman I didn't love and be best fucking friends with a guy who didn't have my back and I don't feel like they fucked me up anymore. I feel like—like one of those memes about the world working in mysterious ways and light coming after the dark and slogging through shit to see the sunrise."

"By that logic, they're the game changers," I said. "Not me."

"Erroneous," he yelled. It sounded like he was objecting in court. Gronk joined in with a howl. "Erroneous on all counts."

"You're drunk," I said with a laugh.

He shook his head once. "Not nearly as much as you think I am."

I peered at him then, wondering whether he was right. Whether I'd decided he was hammered and therefore everything out of his mouth was the product of loosened inhibitions and a slippery tongue. But I couldn't prevent myself from giving him a yeah, whatever eyeroll and head bob, and saying, "This would be a great time for me to ask if you want—"

"Yes," he interrupted. "Whatever it is, yes."

"Cool, cool," I murmured. "It's a good thing I brought my new strap-on, then."

That goddamn sarcasm of mine.

He gave me a bland stare. "For you, I'd do it. I'd ask you to go easy and use extra lube. Even more than you think necessary. The most lube ever. But I'd do it. I'd take whatever you had to give me, and who the fuck knows? Maybe I'd enjoy it." When a giggle slipped past my lips, he continued, "Ask the question, Magnolia."

I brought my free hand to my hair, stopping a second before I mussed the carefully messy bun I'd managed. I whispered, "Are you sure?"

I'd intended to ask him to help Matt and Lauren move into their new house next weekend but I couldn't do it. I couldn't make this moment about anyone but us. And that was where Ben had me—I did know.

Oh, yeah. I knew. But I was a woman who lived in a cloud of doubt. Hell, there were instances when I didn't even believe these men liked me more than they liked the thrill of competition.

Rob studied me, his brow furrowed. He seemed confused, maybe annoyed. Maybe it was an annoying question. Maybe I was meant to take his words at face value and be happy I heard them at all.

I swiveled my head from side to side, shaking that nonsense loose. My sarcasm could stay but this uncertainty had to go. I'd come too far, worked too hard to let that noise drag me down.

"I'm sure I didn't love Miranda," he said. "I cared about her and I thought we were right for each other but we never loved each other. I know that now." His lips brushed over my temple as he locked his arms around my waist. "I know I love you and I know it has nothing to do with wanting to win. I realized something else this week."

I tipped my head back to meet his gaze. Stared, waited for him to continue. When he didn't, I said, "By all means, draw out the drama. I'm here for the suspense."

"You're so mean to me," he drawled. "How do you make it hurt so good, love?"

He was hard through his tuxedo pants, thick and throbbing. But that could wait. Sex was great but the sensation of every damn cell in your body colliding into a sharp arrow of affection for another human was better than any orgasm. "Because I know how."

"What else do you know?" he asked. I ran my hand up his chest, pinched his nipple. He yelped, flattened me against him. "Why do I like it when you're mean to me?" He shook his head. "Never mind. Don't answer that."

His hands slipped over my backside. "What else did you realize?" I asked.

"That you could choose the firefighter," he said. "You could choose him and I'd bow out. I'd hate it. I'd fucking hate it. But I'd do it if it meant you were happy. If it was your choice, I'd wish you the best and step aside."

He watched me, his eyes wide and his lips parted as that same arrow of affection lanced through him.

I was done. Heart eyes and butterfly bellies and a lava cake heart. Done.

And I knew why I couldn't stay with Ben tonight, even when he begged. I felt things for Ben and I felt things with Ben but they weren't like this. Nothing was like this.

Because I knew.

I knew falling was like this.





*



We went. We saw. We drank all the champagne.

Maybe not all of it, but when we stumbled into Rob's hired car later that night, my head was squishing like a fishtail and the world felt like a sweet, bubbly sea. I was giggling for no obvious reason and my messy bun was falling apart, but I didn't want anything to change.

Rob pulled the car door shut behind him and fell back against the seat, his long legs sprawled out in front of him. His tie was loose and his collar open, his cuffs rolled up to his elbows. A wash of pink rode high on his cheeks. His eyes, that speckled blend of gold and green, bathed me in shimmering heat.

"That was," he started, gesturing toward me, "that was…interesting."

Another giggle burst from my lips, louder and more unchained than I'd expected. "Can I be honest?" He nodded, dropped his hand on my thigh. "I know I experienced this through a different lens than you, but I don't think it was bad-interesting. It was"—I bit my lip, hesitated—"weird. It was weird-interesting."