Page 122 of Betting on You

Will I have to meet Scott’s parents? Will they want to be my grandparents?

I opened my eyes, but then I just stared at the TV-illuminated wall—andkeptthinking. Because no matter how much I wanted to just think things likeEverything will be fineand hope for the best, the reality was that everything I’d worried about was now happening.

I reached for my phone—beside my pillow, where I’d ignored it the entire time I’d been at Charlie’s—and flipped it over. I had six unread messages, and I sighed as I clicked into them.

The first five were from my mom:

I love you, Bay—we’ll figure this out.

Call me. I love you.

I talked to Charlie and I’m glad you’re safe.

I miss you—text or call if you want to talk.

I couldn’t read the last one because my eyes were full of tears. I knew I was a baby, an immature pathetic loser, because all I wanted was to cry into my mom’s shoulder at that moment.

I wiped my eyes and saw that the other message was from my dad.

Your mom thought you might need to talk. Call or text anytime, Bay—I love you.

I dropped the phone onto the carpet as the tears took over. Even as I knew it was silly, I couldn’t stop crying. I lay there in the quiet darkness of the blanket fort, overwhelmed with homesickness—for him, for her, for the family we’d once been. They’d been divorced for years, yet I still felt this gaping hole of grief as life kept changing itself up on me, kept finding new ways to make me melancholy and wistful.

When was I going to be fine with everything?

“Bay.”

I felt Charlie’s hand on my back, but I didn’t want to turn over. It was one thing for him to see me a teensy bit emotional in Colorado, but it was another entirely for him to see me bawling my eyes out. I cleared my throat and tried to sound normal. “Yeah?”

“Roll over.”

I sniffled. “I don’t want to.”

I heard a smile in his voice when he said, “Come on.”

I wiped at my eyes with the edge of the blanket and turned over. Charlie was propped up on one arm, so he was higher than me, and I said, “Can you not look at me?”

That made half of his mouth slide upward. “But you look hot with blotchy cheeks and red eyes. I can’t take my eyes off you.”

I rolled my eyes and coughed out a laugh. “You’re such a jerk.”

His smile went away and he said, “You shouldn’t be crying alone in the dark. You should’ve woken me up.”

“Yeah, sure—I can see it now.Hey, Charlie—wake up. I’m about to bawl like a baby—you don’t want to miss this.”

Nowherolledhiseyes. “You know what I mean.”

I didn’t say anything.

“I’m here for you,” he said, his face serious in our darkened fort of blankets. “That’s what friends are for.”

That made me smile. “Holy shit, Charlie—did you just admit that you have friend feelings for me? That I’m not just a coworker?”

His jaw clenched and his eyes traveled all over my face. “Maybe.”

“I want you to say it,” I teased. “Say ‘I have friend feelings for you, Bailey.’?”

His eyes were on mine as he said, “I might possibly have feelings for you that are more than coworkerly.”

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