Page 65 of Bad Luck Club

“Radical honesty?” she asked.

The corners of his mouth twitched. “I’d expect nothing less.”

Deep breath in, out. “I like you, present tense, and yes, I want you in my life, but this”—she gestured between them, to the invisible wisps of energy connecting them—“whether you realize it or not, you need the club more than you need me.”

“I disagree,” he said, still looking at her. “I can’t see what wearing a graphic shirt is going to do for my mental health. Or any of those—” He cut off whatever he’d intended to say, which was doubtlessly something insulting about the club. Another spurt of annoyance coursed through her. “Or any of the other people in the club.”

“Don’t patronize me about the challenge,” she said. “They’re about pushing yourself. Big steps and little, and if you can’t even bring yourself to do something as simple as wearing a T-shirt, especially when you work for a brewery, where half of your merch is graphic T-shirts, then maybe you should ask yourself if that’s a problem.”

“Probably,” he murmured. “What wasyourchallenge?”

She thought again about what it would be like ifhewere her date. If she looked across the table at a restaurant, or wherever, and saw Lee’s eyes twinkling back at her. Saw that look he seemed to roll out only for her. The longing she felt set her off-kilter.

“You’re deflecting,” she said, her voice hitching a little. “I think you should give Bad Luck Club more of a chance. It’s helped me, Lee. It’s given me the strength to let other people in.” Their eyes connected again, heat pinging between them, telling him what she couldn’t—that it had given her the strength to lethimin.

“It isn’t the club I’ve been thinking about every night for the past week and a half. And it certainly isn’t a goddamn graphic T-shirt.”

Heat washed through her, searing her from the inside out.

The way he was looking at her, the words he was saying…all she had to do was reach for him. She wanted to. But the things he’d done this week…the steps he’d taken, he’d done themafterthe meeting. Maybe because of it. She couldn’t take that away from him. And a big part of her was still frightened of this thing between them, the growing sense of connection. Because being at odds with him had made her miserable, and they weren’t even together. Did she really want to give him the power to destroy her?

Then there was the club to think of. Would the progress she’d made disappear without it? Would Harry still be her friend if she left? And Bear?

She might be willing to risk it, but everything was unfurling so fast…she needed time to think.

“Whatever you and I feel for each other…we can figure it out later. After the next meeting, we can—”

“Ready to talk sales?” a bright voice came from behind them. Adalia pranced in a second later, Tyrion following her, his movements a little too peppy for Addy’s story to track.

“Oh,” Adalia said, stopping in her tracks a few steps into the kitchen. Her gaze pinged from Lee, who was emitting intensity like radio waves, to Blue. “Should I pop back out? I thought three times around the block would be enough.”

Lee said, “Yes,” at the same time Blue said, “No.”

His intense gaze swung to her, and she shrugged. “I really do need to do something about the studio. I’d like it if you joined us. I could use some of your sales magic.”

He gave her a long look, then a slight nod.

“Well, great,” Adalia said, clapping her hands, Tyrion startling to attention as if he were a soldier being called into battle, “let’s grab these apple muffins and sit at the kitchen table.”

She picked up a plate Blue hadn’t even noticed, which was when the scent of the kitchen seeped into her senses. Apples, cinnamon, and nutmeg. It struck her that all of her senses had been attuned to Lee, and that couldn’t be good.

“I heard there would be eggs Benedict,” Lee said, raising his brow.

Adalia waved a hand. “I’ll admit time management has gotten away from me. We’ll do breakfast for dinner. That way Blue won’t have to smell the eggs.”

She had to laugh a little at that. “I’m not a Victorian lady. I won’t faint.”

“I’d catch you if you did,” Lee said, giving her a little smile, and Adalia had a glow of victory about her.

They sat around the table, Tyrion curling up beneath the plate of muffins in what could only be described as a mission of hope, and as they settled into their chairs Lee looked into Blue’s eyes. “Tell me.”

So she set out her spreadsheets even though it embarrassed her—sales weren’t a strength for her, and she knew it.

Lee took a look at them and tilted his head, regarding her with open concern. “Where’d you get the start-up money? Did you take out a loan?”

She understood his worry. If she’d taken out a loan, how would she pay it back?

“I got it from the divorce. Alimony.”

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