“And let’s just say, when Cam found out, things went down shit creek with no paddle. But the point is, I’ve had crappy taste in guys too. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, especially not when you’ve recognized you had that issue—had as in past tense. And it’s okay if you turned your head when Grady was about to kiss you. Maybe you’re just not ready for the relationship to get to that level.”

Nodding slowly, I poked at what was left of my omelet. I wasn’t nineteen anymore. I was twenty-six, four years from thirty. So when in the holy hell would I be ready? At exactly what point would I be . . . be normal?

Thank God the conversation moved away from me, and they started talking about their desires to offer their own dance classes. I hated feeling this way—acknowledging that, at times, I had such little confidence in myself. Embarrassing wasn’t even the word for it. No one liked a woman who looked in a mirror and didn’t love what she saw.

Which was so damn ridiculous if you thought about it.

Pulling a mushroom out of the omelet with my fork, irritation pricked at me. I remembered when Abby had first reconnected with Colton and she’d been so uncomfortable with herself. The mere idea of becoming intimate with him terrified her and she’d been embarrassed to even admit she felt that way. What had I said to her? That not having the greatest confidence didn’t make her any less of a person or something to feel bad about?

It made her normal, average even, because the average woman out there didn’t look at herself every day and say “damn, I’m amazing.” Everyone had moments when they doubted themselves and had trouble looking at their reflections for reasons that went beyond the physical.

I’d always felt that being told you should be more confident was like getting slapped in the face. How was being told that supposed to help you feel better?

I needed to cut myself a break. Seriously.

Shoving the mushroom and another chunk of omelet in my mouth, my ears perked up when I heard Avery say, “We would just need the space for a studio. Honestly, at this point, we’d just need a large room, but every place I’d looked at in town needed a lot of work and the rents were ridiculous.”

“What are you guys talking about?” I asked.

Teresa was toying with a napkin, folding it into a tiny square as she said, “You know how Avery and I have been wanting to open up our own dance studio, starting small with just offering a few classes since I’m obviously out of commission for a while.” She patted her belly. “So we just need a space, but what’s available in town is ridiculous.”