Page 40 of The Problem with Perfect

“You need someone to cover you? When?”

My head turns to the left, where Emily is filling a pint glass from the tap.

“Oh, um…on Tuesday? We have a dinner thing.”

“Apparently, these two started dating a little while back—can you believe that?” Andy says, waving a hand between me and Rusty.

Emily’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, you two are dating?”

I’ve never been in one of those situations they show in the movies when someone says something loudly right when the music stops and everyone hears it, but I can imagine it feels something like this. Emily’s voice carries through the entire bar—or at least it seems that way—and when I glance around, I can see many eyes focused on us.

I laugh, unable to help myself. I guess if anyone in town didn’t know before, they definitely do now.

“Yes,” I say. “We are.”

Something devious races through me in that moment, and I just can’t help myself. I follow Rusty’s lead and reach across the bar, placing a hand behind his neck and tugging him in for a kiss.

chaptertwelve

Rusty

When I pull up in front of the Mitchell house on Sunday evening, Bellamy is already outside, sitting on the little bench next to their front door. I’ve noticed she does that, sits outside instead of waiting inside for me to come to the door and knock. She did it the night we went on the double date with Stace and Connor, and she’s doing it tonight.

“How come you don’t let me come up to the door and knock?” I ask once she’s climbed into my passenger seat.

She raises an eyebrow. “I just figured we’re not really dating, so it’s an extra thing you’d have to do when you’re already doing a lot.”

I take a second or two to turn my car around then head down the driveway and out to the main highway. “Well, it’s something Iwoulddo, so just let me come to the door, okay?”

Bellamy thinks about it for a minute then nods. “If you want to.”

We drive in silence, neither of us addressing what feels like the baby elephant riding in the car with us.

At least,Ifeel like there’s a baby elephant, and its name is ‘Bellamy’s Kiss at The Mitch.’

I mean holyshit. My throat feels tight just thinking about it.

She said she doesn’t have a lot of experience—which we still need to talk about, along with her other mention of having not been on a date before—but you’d never know it from the sexy way she reached over to plant one on me. This wasn’t a somewhat friendly kiss like the one I gave her. Sure, I enjoyed the feel of her lips pressed against mine, but that was the extent of it.

When Bellamy kissedme, I felt it in my fucking toes. Her warm hand on my neck, the mischievous look on her face as she leaned toward me, the gentle way her teeth nibbled on my lips—I was a half second away from yankingheracross the bar so we could continue that kiss in private. God, even now, just thinking about it, I’m having to will away the pulse of desire growing thick and hard between my legs.

Of course, after that, I wasn’t able to stop thinking about Bellamy for the rest of the evening—hell, for the rest of the weekend—which can be the only explanation for why I texted her saying we should go to the bonfire tonight. In my head, I tried to justify the invitation with the idea that it’s a chance for Bellamy and me to go to something public. Now that it’s common knowledge we’re ‘dating’, it would seem a little weird if we were never actually seen together.

Of course, there’s also the voice I can’t seem to quiet telling me that’s not the real reason, saying maybe I enjoy Bellamy’s company a little more than I should. My eyes glance in her direction briefly, taking in her pouty lips and long neck before I return my attention to the road.

The reality is that I haven’t gotten laid in a few months. That’s probably what this attraction is. It’s animal need, clawing its way out and latching onto the only person I’m giving any of my attention.

I look at Bellamy again, this time finding her eyes on me.

“How are things coming with the brewery?”

Her question catches me off guard. Here I am, thinking about her plump lips, and she’s over there wondering about my business. I’m grateful for the subject change, though, as a reprieve from my thoughts.

“It’s going well. Construction has been going on for about a month, and they’re almost done with the renovation aspect of shoring up the building’s foundation and replacing the elements that weren’t salvageable. They’ll be starting on all the electrical and plumbing this week.”

“Are you excited? About how it’s all progressing?”

I nod. “I am. It’s a dream realized.”

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