Page 67 of Bean

Knowing my mother, that was likely. And, of course, already being irritated by that, exacerbated by not feeling well, I’d taken it out on Nash. “I’m sorry. I’m sure I didn’t mean it.”

He patted my knee. “I don’t think you did either, but I need you to promise me that if I overstep, you’ll tell me.”

“I promise.”

He nudged me. “Write that down, knucklehead, before it disappears from that leaky brain of yours.”

Good point. I made some notes, then added what Nash had told me about needing to feel useful. That wasn’t something I wanted to forget. It mattered, probably more than I realized right now, but that was a discussion for another time.

“What you said in there about no one ever loving you the way you are…” Nash said when I was done.

“I can’t help but feel that way. I’m a lot, Nash. You can’t deny that.”

“You should’ve seen Jarek that day. How worried he was for you, how he took care of you.”

“I don’t remember anything from that day. Not even seeing him or what happened at his place.”

“I know, but I’m telling you, he was out of his mind with worry. When he called me, and later when we met, he was deeply concerned for your wellbeing. He cares, Bean. A lot.”

What was Nash saying? “He’s not in love with me. We’re just friends. With benefits.”

“I’m not saying he is. I’m saying he could be.”

My head spun around so swiftly that I was dizzy for a moment. “What?” I managed once I had my equilibrium back. “He’s what?”

“He could fall in love with you. Easily. If you ask me, he’s halfway there.”

My mouth dropped open, and it took effort to close it again. “I told you, we’re friends.”

“Bean, my sweet summer child, what you two have is not friendship. The way that man looked when he was so worried about you was not friendship. How you talk about him is not friendship. None of this is friendship. I know you don’t have a lot of experience in things like this, especially not with men, but trust me on this. You two are more than friends. You may notbe ready to acknowledge that, and that’s fine, but you’re not just friends. Not even with benefits.”

Nash was right that I didn’t have much experience. Heck, I was still somewhat baffled that I’d managed to get a girlfriend like Natasha in the first place, and I had no clue how I’d done it. But it was hard to imagine I could be so wrong about Jarek and me. We’d been clear about what we were, hadn’t we?

I flipped through my notebook. Yeah, there it was. I’d had questions about the rules of being casual hookups and then Jarek had suggested being friends with benefits. If he’d wanted to actually date, surely he would’ve said so, wouldn’t he? He actually did have experience, considering he’d been married—according to my notes, it had been a contentious divorce and his ex had cheated on him repeatedly.

“Jarek’s never said anything about wanting more,” I said.

“Oh, I’m sure he hasn’t. He may not be ready for that. But I need you to know and write it down, kid, so you’re not shocked when things develop and head in that direction.”

Okay, I was lost again. “In what direction?”

“Of a relationship. Being boyfriends.”

My heart skipped a beat. “B-boyfriends? You think he wants to be my…?”

“Talk to him, Bean. Sit down with him for an honest conversation. He needs to know what you’re dealing with so he can decide if that’s something he’s willing to sign up for.”

Did Nash really think I hadn’t told Jarek anything? “He knows about my TBI.”

“He needs details, not just theCliffsNotesversion. He had no idea what was happening when you had your seizure, and he was out of his mind with worry.”

Ah, okay. I couldn’t remember how much I had told him, but it was possible I’d shared very little. I didn’t like talking about the TBI, and I had no trouble imagining I’d shared as little aspossible out of fear of scaring him away. “But how do I even bring up the topic of…more? I can’t come out and ask if he wants to be boyfriends.”

Nash let out a dry chuckle. “Well, you could, but I can imagine that’s a little scary. You could just tell him you want to talk about your injury and what that means going forward. You know, manage expectations. And then pay attention to what he’s saying and what he isn’t saying or communicating with his body language.”

I let out a deep sigh. “It’s getting complicated.”

“Life always is. That’s part of its charm. Or so they say.”