Page 45 of The Right Player
My stomach free-fell at the comparison.
“I’m scared,” I admitted, quietly, almost too soft for her to hear.
Gemma’s expression softened, and she lowered the water bottle to the island, wrapping her arms around me in a hug. “I know.”
I leaned into her, heart racing in warning of what I was considering.
“Just give him a shot,” Gemma said, pulling back to frame my arms. “Okay? For me. Just… talk to him, hear him out, and give him a chance.” She shrugged. “I know you’re getting tired of playing all these games, Belle. And I meant what I said. You don’t have to play this role forever. Maybe… with Makoa… it could be different.”
“Or I could end up an even bigger mess than when Nathan left me.”
“That is a risk,” she agreed, which did nothing to make me feel better. She shrugged. “But I’ll be here to pick you up off the floor, if that’s the case. And isn’t he worth it, to take that chance and find out?”
I chewed my lip, hating the way the butterflies in my stomach took flight at the thought of seeing him again.
Could Gemma be right?
Was I an absolute idiot to think that maybe, with Makoa, I could be more than just the fun girl?
Before I could overthink it, I grabbed my phone, hitting the unmute button. “Where are you?”
“Oh shit, she didn’t hang up!” I heard Makoa say, then there was a rustling of the phone before his voice came in clearer. “You didn’t hang up.”
I chuckled. “I didn’t.”
“That’s good. I like when you don’t hang up.” Hiccup.
“Where are you?” I asked on a laugh.
“I’m at the dirty trivia bar. Except there’s no trivia tonight. But good ol’ Dave here is keeping me liberated.” A pause. “Er, libated.” Another pause. “That’s a funny word. Liiii-bay-ted.”
Gemma giggled. “Sounds like Dave, alright.”
I was smiling, too, and I knew it was less from how adorable Makoa was when he was tipsy, and more from the fact that my entire body was afloat with the hope and possibility I’d been suffocating all week.
Now that they could finally breathe again, they were all I had.
“Don’t move,” I said to Makoa.
Then, I hung up and grabbed my keys before I could wise up and change my mind.MakoaMy head was swimming when Belle walked through the door of Doc’s, but as soon as she did, everything cleared.
She stood in the doorway, her unreadable eyes scanning the crowd that had formed as it got later. Her auburn hair was swept up into a messy bun, tendrils falling to frame her face, and she was an absolute smoke show even in black leggings and a hoodie.
The Moulin Rouge! hoodie, to be exact.
My heart leapt at the sight of her, and I fished in my pocket for my wallet, slapping a couple hundred-dollar bills on the bar and nodding at Dave before I hopped up from my seat. It only took me a few strides to reach her, and Belle didn’t see me until I was just a step away.
In the next one, I swept her up into my arms, and I held her tight.
I thought I’d be scared when I saw her. I thought I’d be nervous and timid and wouldn’t know the right words to say. But the moment I saw her standing in that bar, I knew the only thing that mattered was that I get her in my arms — and fast.
She was stiff when I first embraced her, and for a split second, I worried I’d ridden my hope too far. But she melted into me just as easily, and with a sigh, her arms wrapped around my neck, and she held me in return.
“Thank you for coming,” I whispered, squeezing her waist. She smelled like lemon and honey and rain, like summer in a new city. “I’m sorry. For everything.”
Belle shook her head, pulling back from my embrace before her eyes swept over the bar again. She nodded toward the door, and we stepped outside, into the cool summer evening.
“Don’t be,” she said when we were alone, crossing her arms over her chest. I hated that she wasn’t still wrapped up in my arms, but I gave her space. “It’s me who should be sorry.”
I shoved my hands in the pockets of my shorts to keep myself from reaching for her.
Belle sighed, biting her lip as her gaze found the traffic whizzing by. She watched it for a long moment before she looked at me again. “What you said, about me being a good time… it triggered me.” She blew out a breath, shaking her head. “God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”
“You can tell me anything.”
“The fact that I already know that is part of what freaks me out.”
I frowned. “Why did it trigger you?”
Belle smiled as if she were looking into a past life, glancing down at her feet before her eyes found me again. “I dated a guy for a really long time, practically all of college. He was good friends with Gemma’s ex-husband, and we sort of all hung out, this big happy foursome.”
