Page 71 of The Problem with Perfect

The next few days go by fairly quickly.

Things with the brewery site continue to progress, and Nick’s crew wraps up the final electrical and plumbing components in record time, which means it’s time to install the brewing equipment ahead of schedule. To say I’m thrilled is an understatement. The sooner we transition to this new gear, the better, especially if we want to have good batches ready for the opening in September.

Jackson and I are at the construction site much more than I anticipated, so I have to work longer hours to keep on top of local deliveries and normal Cedar Cider business functions. That also means I don’t have extra time to go into The Mitch or get together with Bellamy like I’ve been doing since we started this thing up.

Part of me thinks it might be better this way, though. After some of our more revelatory conversations recently, we might both need some time to cool down a bit and remind ourselves that this thing is supposed to be fake.

It’s fake for her, at least. For me, it’s been borderline real since the night she yanked me across the bar and planted a kiss on my lips that I felt in my toes. I try not to think about that when we’re together, though, because I can’t risk falling for her any harder than I already am.

I’m completing my delivery at South Bank Resort when I hear my name in a sweet feminine voice, and I turn, grinning when I see Stace approaching. I might loathe Connor, but Stace is great. If anything, I like her so much it makes me dislike Connor even more, because I don’t think he deserves her.

“What are you up to?” I ask, giving her a quick hug.

Stace shrugs. “Just bumming around the resort. Apparently it’sone of the perksof dating the owner’s son.” She says thiswith an eye roll, and I laugh.

“Hey, don’t shit on enjoying that pool. It’s one of only three in all of Cedar Point, and the other two are privately owned.”

“Ah, so it reallyisa luxury,” she replies, her tone playful. “Good to know.” Her eyes scan over the dolly of beer I’m standing next to. “I’m actually really glad I bumped into you. I’m wondering…I mean, I know you’re working, but once you’re done delivering that, would you have a few minutes?”

I blink, a little surprised. “Um…sure. I could probably give you ten minutes.”

She smiles. “Awesome. Go ahead and do your”—she waves her hand at the beer—“stuff, and I’ll just be out by the pool, okay?”

I nod, and she heads off toward the pool that overlooks the marina.

It only takes me about fifteen minutes to sort out my delivery to the bar, and the entire time, I’m wondering what Stace could possibly want to talk to me about. The easy answer is Connor and Bellamy, and something uncomfortable slides through my stomach at the idea of Stace sharing something about the two of them that I don’t know.

I’m fairly certain Bellamy’s interest in Connor is long gone, but I’ve learned the hard way that you never really know someone until they prove to you exactly who they are. As much as I’m getting to know Bellamy and feeling more connected with the heart of who she is, there’s always the possibility that someday she’ll reveal something I’m not expecting.

Once I’ve completed the delivery and returned my dolly to the trunk of my Blazer, I head out to the pool. It’s not a hugely popular place on a gorgeous Thursday afternoon since most people are probably out at the lake, but there are still plenty of families scattered about sunbathing and playing in the water. Stace is seated at a table under an umbrella, her legs up on another chair and sunglasses on, reading a book. When she senses my approach, she looks up and smiles.

“Oh, that was quick! I thought I’d get in a full chapter.”

I take a seat in the chair across from her. “What are you reading?”

She dog-ears the page and closes the book, showing me the yellow cover. “It’s just a book about believing in yourself and learning to trust your instincts.”

“I like it.”

“I do too. I’m trying to do that more, you know?” Stace sets the book on the table then leans back in her chair in a casual pose, her feet still up. “Doubt myself less. Trust myself more. Kick a little ass.”

I chuckle. “Sounds great.”

“It’s actually one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you.”

She’s wearing sunglasses, so I can’t see her eyes, but I can still tell when her expression becomes more serious.

“I really admire your relationship with Bellamy. It seems like you guys talk about stuff and treat each other really well. I just like it. I like both of you.” She pauses. “I’m wondering if you have any advice for how Connor and I can build something like what you guys have. We have a very active sex life and I thought that was enough, but…I don’t know, watching you and Bellamy makes me want that kind of deep connection. Especially if we’re getting married, you know? I just assumed relationships looked like this, and now I’m starting to realize there might be something more.”

She shrugs and lifts her sunglasses up on top of her head.

“I mean, you know Connor pretty well, right? You guys are friends? I just thought it would be great to get a guy’s perspective—agoodguy’s perspective.”

I scratch at my beard, feeling a little out of my depth at her request, not only because I can’t remember the last time someone lumped me in with the ‘good guys,’ but also because I’mnotdating Bellamy, not really. The admiration she feels about our relationship is based on something other than reality.

I’m alsonotfriends with Connor, nor do I know him well. I might feel like I understand exactly what kind of guy he is—one who is definitely not the type of person I would want to be friends with, hard stop—but I don’t have some great insight to reveal. I’m not exactly sure how to answer her without sharing all of that.

“Well, first, I think it’s important to say I don’t know Connor well. He’s more of a friend of Bellamy’s from high school, so I can’t really speak about him from that perspective because I wouldn’t consider us to be friends.”

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