Page 110 of Just Say Yes

I looked utterly undone.

Like someone who’d just let her guard slip. Like someone who couldn’t lie to herself anymore about what this was becoming.

“Late night?”

The voice startled me, and I whirled around to see Aunt Bug standing in the kitchen doorway, holding a steaming mug and her salt-and-pepper hair pulled back at the temples. She was wearing her usual oversize sweatshirt and slippers, her assessing eyes narrowing slightly as she took me in.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. What could I even say?

Bug’s lips curved into a knowing smile, the kind that always made me feel like she could see right through me. “You look like you’ve been through a windstorm.” She took a sip of tea. “Or maybe something better.”

My cheeks burned, and I tugged at the hem of my sweater, trying to smooth it out. “It’s nothing.”

Bug snorted, moving into the kitchen and flicking on the light. “Honey, you’re standing in the hallway looking like a cat that got caught in the cream. Don’t tell me it’s nothing.”

I followed her reluctantly, leaning against the counter as she drizzled a bit of honey into the mug.

I gently cleared my throat. “I was out with Logan.”

Her eyes flicked up to mine, intense and curious, but she only hummed.

I nodded, suddenly feeling like a teenager again, sneaking in past curfew.

Bug took a sip of her sweetened tea, studying me over the rim of the mug. “You like him.”

The words were soft but sure, and I felt something twist in my chest.

“I don’t know,” I said, my voice quieter than I meant.

Bug set her mug down and leaned on the counter, her gaze steady and warm. “MJ, liking someone isn’t the same as trusting them. And trusting them isn’t the same as letting yourself be happy.”

I blinked, caught off guard by how much her words hit home.

“I understand you’ve been carrying that fear around for so long, it’s like you don’t know how to put it down,” Bug continued, her voice gentle. “Trust me. I understand that. But recently I have also learned that there comes a point when you’ve got to ask yourself if holding on to the hurt is worth missing out on something good.”

My thoughts drifted to her relationship with Bax. He’d opened something up for her, allowed her to be herself in a way that was truly special. She didn’t have to change for him ... all he ever asked was for a little of her time.

My throat felt tight, and I dropped my gaze to the counter, tracing the veins in the marble with my finger. “What if it’s not good? What if it’s just ... temporary?”

Bug shrugged, her expression softening. “Maybe it is. Maybe it’s not. But if you spend all your time waiting for the floor to fall out from under you, you’ll miss the chance to enjoy standing still. You can trust me on that one.”

The room felt quiet again, the weight of her words settling into the space between us. Bug had never married. She’d spent her life raising her brother’s children so we wouldn’t have to suffer under the weight of his full attention. I paused, wondering whether her advice was speaking from a place of experience. For the first time, I wondered whether Bug had lived a life of regrets.

I swallowed hard, finally glancing up at her. “Thanks, Bug.”

She reached out and squeezed my hand, her strong fingers warm against mine. “Go on upstairs, MJ. You look like you need to sit with yourself for a while.”

I nodded, murmuring another thanks before heading for the stairs, grabbing the blanket from the couch on the way.

The old wood steps creaked under my feet, and I moved slowly, my mind still spinning. Bug’s words echoed in my head as I reached my room, the familiar space feeling too quiet, too still.

I dropped onto my bed, pulling the stolen blanket around my shoulders again, inhaling the faint trace of woodsmoke and Logan that clung to it. My phone buzzed, and my heart kicked up, hoping for his name.

It wasn’t Logan.

It was Trent.

I stared at my phone, the screen glaring back at me in the dim light of my room.

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