Page 124 of Love Undiscovered
I can't do this.
I can't tell her about the bet. She’ll leave me if I do. And, I especially can't tell her that I've already taken money for it. It's going to make her feel cheap when she's anything but.
“Do you know what I liked the best about today?”
“What?” I ask, loving the feel of her smooth skin in my hands.
“You are all just so real with one another. There's no bullshit between you, it's straight up honesty whether you like it or not. I've only ever seen it between me, Kat, and Lexie. Which I thought was so rare that it didn't happen with other people. But, your family, you all do the same.”
“Well, they're your family, right? Lexie and Kat?”
“They are, yes,” she says softly. “Growing up, my biological family, we were so secretive about our feelings, whether they were positive or not. I hate that. I hate secrets.”
Aw, fuck. If I tell her, I lose her. If I don't tell her, I lose her. How do I win here? Maybe it will be okay, and she'll understand.
Doesn’t matter. It’s now or never.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” I say. I know that this is not a good time or even the right time to bring this up. But I also know I won’t have another chance before she leaves for her conference.
She straightens and pulls away from me, eyes wide.
“That’s never a good way to start a sentence,” she says.
“It’s not a bad thing,” I say. “In fact, I think you’re going to find it funny and ironic. We’ll laugh about it.”
Her body visibly relaxes.
“So, I overheard you and Kat talking the night of the movie at Lexie’s winery.”
She looks off to the side slightly, as though trying to remember which conversation I might be referring to.
“About a bet, with a pair of ridiculously expensive shoes.”
She gasps and bolts up straight, pulling her feet away from me.
“Look,” she says looking at me, eyes wild. “It’s not like—”
“It’s okay,” I say.
“What do you mean, it’s okay?” she asks, confusion overtaking her facial features.
“I had a bet too,” I say.
Her brow straightens from confusion to understanding to irritation and her eyes narrow.
“What do you mean you had a bet too?”
“I had a bet. About you and I and whether—”
“You made a fucking bet about me?” she asks. Her voice becoming shrill and her face turning red.
“Well, yeah. But you made a bet about me.”
“We aren’t talking about me right now, we’re talking about you.”
“Really we are talking about both of us,” I say.
“Don’t try to change the subject,” she says. “What the fuck do you mean you made a bet?” Her look getting more menacing as she talks. I back away slightly toward the other end of the couch.
