Page 55 of Misadventures of a Curvy Girl
“I need to take the afternoon off,” I say, swiping at my eyes and in general trying to look like a professional person. “And maybe the day after that too.”
“Of course,” he says, his ginger eyebrows drawing together. “Is everything okay?”
“Not yet,” I say honestly. “But I think it might be.”
Sympathy floods his face. “Do you want me to help? I can call Caleb—”
“No.” I’m shaking my head. “Thank you, but I think I need to do this myself.”
He nods. “Okay. Take all the time you need—you’ve got plenty stored up.”
I give him a teary smile and then go back to my desk to grab my purse and my keys. I’m practically vibrating with all the new parts of me Mackenna has helped unlock, thrumming with the near-violent need to find my men and tell them—what? That I believed the worst of them? The worst of myself?
Yes. I need to be honest about why I left. But I’ll also tell them so much more.
I’ll tell them how desperately I love them and how my days at the farm were pure magic and my nights in their bed were pure heaven. I’ll tell them I don’t want any future without them, and if they’re willing to jump into this with me, then I’ll jump in too. Feet first, eyes wide open, just like I should have done at the pond.
So long as I’m with them, I’ll jump anywhere.
I’m practically running down the stairs of the building to get to my car, wondering if I should call first or just show up at the farm, and it’s when I get to the first-floor doors that I hear a sound so achingly familiar that the tears nearly start up again.
The happy, chipper yap of a dog followed by the rattle-bang of an old truck.
I push open the door to see Caleb’s truck wedged awkwardly between two electric cars plugged into charging ports, Greta-dog sticking her head out the window and barking wildly at the silver streetcar gliding by. Caleb and Ben climb out of the truck, looking like Kansas versions of Adonis, with their broad shoulders and narrow hips, and when they catch sight of me frozen in the doorway, they freeze too. They both have big bouquets of buttery yellow sunflowers in their hands.
None of us move for a long minute—a minute when I quietly panic that I’ve ruined everything and I’ve ruined it so thoroughly that they’ve driven two hours just to tell me they never want to see me again.
Hi, is what I should say.
Sorry, is what I should say.
“I love you,” is what comes out. So softly that I’m not even sure they hear it.
And then they’re loping toward me with big, half-jogging strides, and I’m suddenly crushed into two sets of strong arms and pressed between two hard, warm chests, the sunflowers crushing in there with me. My chin is taken between Ben’s firm fingers, and my face is turned toward Caleb. I’m kissed—passionately, tenderly—with a scratch of soft beard, until my knees weaken and I can barely stand. When I start whimpering against Caleb’s lips, Ben turns my face back to his and rewards me with a long, thorough kiss of his own.
“Fuck, I missed you,” Caleb groans into my ear, hugging me tighter as Ben continues to conquer my mouth with his. “Missed you so damn much.”
We break apart with a gasp, and I’m shocked to see Ben’s eyes are just as red-rimmed as mine probably are. I reach up and touch the corner of his eye, where even now a tear is beading. The touch of it is scalding—burning me with regret.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper to them both. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“No, we’re sorry,” Caleb says, pressing his face into my neck. “We started this whole mess. We should have never told that reporter we were dating if you didn’t want us to. If you don’t want to be openly dating two men at once, we get it. We’ll have you however you want.”
“That’s not—” I take a breath and pull back enough so I can see both their faces. “That’s not why I left. I’m ready for the world to know I love two men. I was a little surprised by it coming up during the interview, but when I chose to pose for that photo, I chose to be ready. I’m proud to be with you.”
I receive two dazzling grins in response to that.
“No, it was more like…I was worried you wouldn’t be proud to be with me. That even if you were, it would mean subjecting yourself to all kinds of things…” I trail off because Ben’s expression has grown stormy and Caleb’s thick eyebrows have pulled together in confusion. “The comments people were leaving on that article, the things my ex said…and Ben, your Yelp page…”
“What’s Yelp?” Ben asks, his storminess giving way temporarily to puzzlement. “Is that on Twitter?”
“It’s a thing on the internet for reviewing restaurants and stuff? Super popular?”
He shrugs, his face getting dark and thunderous again. “I don’t care what happens on a Yelp. Do you think the people in Holm are having drinks at the tavern because of reviews on an internet site?”
Having grown to know the people of Holm over the last month, I have to admit it’s unlikely. I shake my head.
“Even if loving you meant selling everything I own and going to work at the meat-packing plant in Emporia, I’d do it. I don’t give a shit about what people say or do, as long as I have you. As long as we have you.”
