Page 48 of Busted Dreams

“Ass, look at me.” There were no signs in his voice to what he thought, but after hearing myself repeat my life decisions I felt like the biggest, most selfish girl on the planet. I thought telling your story helped people, made them feel better. Mine only made me feel about two inches tall.

“What?” I said, still watching the crowd through unfocused eyes.

“Okay, we’re going to have to do this the hard way I see.” A huge, cold palm settled on the side of my face closest to the door, and my head was jerked around. “Astrid, why do you look so dejected? Because you have guy friends and they want to date you? Because they bring something into your life you’ve never had before, and you don’t want to lose them? Or because you were honest with your feelings and intentions, and they agreed? There is nothing wrong with what you are doing.Nothing.

“If you were sneaking around with each guy, keeping secrets and breaking hearts, then I’d have an issue with that. Because I’m not down with homewreckers.” He grabbed the sides of my face in his hands, giving me a little shake. “You aren’t doing that. It’s not wrong of you to want to keep them with you. It’s not wrong to want more with them. Hell, it’s not even wrong to experiment sexually with each of them if that’s what you want and they know the score. Be you. Live your life. Make mistakes.” He smiled comfortingly.

Then he got serious. “I can’t tell you this won’t blow up in your face, or that you won’t break their—or your—hearts in the process of figuring out what you want. Because this sounds like one hell of a recipe forBachelorettelevel drama. But how do you know what you want if you never go for it? Or experience it?

“Something to know about me. I will be the best friend you could ever have. I will support you, hype you up, be the best wing man—not that you need it with your harem—and I will always tell you the brutal, ugly truth. And, Astrid, just because the church wants you to believe what you’re doing is wrong, doesn’t mean it’s true. You’ve separated yourself so much from that life and those beliefs, but something tells me part of it is still clinging to your psyche. Tell me I’m wrong.” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Give yourself a break, okay?”

Tears welled up in my eyes. I tried to blink them away, but they were there to stay.

He was right. He was freaking right. And I didn’t even know it.

My choices felt right when I was with the guys. When we were in our own bubble away from the prying eyes of society, we lived our lives together and I felt more like myself than I ever had in the church. But as soon as I told someone else, sudden fear of judgment clouded all of my thoughts. For a minute, I’d felt dirty, ashamed.

But why?

Because I was afraid of what Ryan was going to think?

Something inside me clicked into place at his words. The guys were special to me in a way no one else ever had been, but Ryan was something special too. He accepted me for all my weird quirks and didn’t judge me on what really mattered. The relief coursing through me brought more tears to my eyes, and before I knew it, I was laughing and crying at the same time.

“Hey, hey! None of that now.” He palmed the back of my head and roughly pulled me into his shoulder. I choked on another laugh at how uncomfortable he was.

“Sorry, I’m just so happy.” The words were muffled by his pressed H&M shirt. I snotted, and I was pretty sure some of it got on the beautiful coral fabric covering his chest. I would have said he would have been angry, but now I didn’t think so.

“Why? Because I laid it out for you?” He truly seemed baffled.

Pulling away, I wiped my eyes and gave him a wobbly grin. “Yes. Because you’re right. I’ve detested so much of the church, I never realized they’d still hold any power over me. It’s sobering and liberating to know that they do.”

Jerking his head back and scrunching his brows he said, “Okay, that doesn’t sound like a reason to be happy.”

“But it is! Now that I know it, I can focus on making my decisions just for me. If I start to feel the same way again, I’ll be able to recognize it. This is great!” I bounced in my seat with unbridled exuberance.

Ryan stared at me like I was one book short of the New Testament, but whatever, this was life changing. If I was going to live my own life, I needed to stop worrying about traditional societal norms and just be me. I’d be much happier that way.

And you know what?

Fuck society.

* * *

The rest of the evening,I walked on clouds. Talking with Ryan was just the revelation I needed to stop struggling with my own choices. I wasn’t doing anything wrong or evil. Especially since I’d been upfront with the guys. I just hoped it ended better than the dire outcome Ryan had flirted in our conversation.

“Astrid!” Beck called enthusiastically as I parked my car at Tippy’s.

We’d agreed to do the next video there, but the place was locked up and Beck leaned against the side of his well-loved car baby. Dressed in his usual white shirt with grease stained jeans, he exuded anI’m sexy but I don’t give a fuckvibe. Even here, a couple of moms had congregated at their trunks after grocery shopping, sneaking peeks at Beck.

There was just something about him that made people, or women, gravitate toward him. He said it was the bad boy persona he did so well, the excitement of being with a musician. But I knew it was more than that. It was just him.

“Hey, pretty girl.” He pushed away from his car and walked toward me, and the way his face lit up built a slow burn in the bottom of my stomach.

“Hi.” And yes, I was as breathless as a prepubescent tween boy at the sight of his first set of boobs. I was that mesmerized.

He dipped his head, gently sipping at my lips as one hand fisted the back of my shirt and the other threading through my hair. His body was like a furnace, his delicious heat twining around me. When he tried to pull away, I followed.

“That’s the kind of hello I love to get.” He laughed softly under his breath as he pulled back.

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