Chapters (37)
- Half Title Page
- Books by Becky Wade
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
- DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
- About the Author
- Back Ads
- Back Cover
She might be wrong, because she could never trust her conclusions about such things, but this did feel datelike to her, despite that she’d driven herself here.
As she met Ben’s beautiful eyes from across the table, her nerves stretched. The intimacy of this dinner was confirming for her that she still wanted the same thing she’d always wanted from Ben. Friendship.
The relationship they already had was not a small thing to her. It wasn’t as if she had a large and close-knit circle of adult friends. She had Tess and Rudy. Ben. And a few more casual friendships at school and church. That was it. She was more than grateful for their current relationship.
But the hopeful look on his face was substantiating what Sebastian had told her—that Ben wanted more. Which made her feel like an appalling human being because she truly, truly did not want to hurt him. He was one of the kindest people she’d ever met. Encouraging, thoughtful, supportive. Dozens of times he’d paved the way for her at Misty River High. He was a fantastic listener and, like Sebastian had pointed out, he was loyal.
She’d been eating with a fork, but now fiddled with the unused chopsticks lying next to her napkin.
“Is something wrong?” Ben asked.
“I . . . have an awkward question to ask you. Do you think our friendship can handle an awkward question or two?”
“Absolutely. What’s your question?”
She stilled the chopsticks, mounded her hands in her lap. “I’m interested in knowing if you like me as more than a friend.”
His head pulled back a few inches with surprise.
She waited.
“Come again?” he said.
“I’m interested in knowing if you like me as more than a friend.”
“Uh. Well.” He fidgeted. “What motivated you to ask that?”
“Curiosity. I’d like to be sensitive to where you’re coming from, but I can’t tell where you’re coming from. In order to find out, I have to ask.”
He gave her his thoughtful look, the one that he gave students when he wasn’t sure how to respond. “Do you like me as more than a friend?”
In her life, she’d often been too much of something for other people. Too much of a brainiac. Too nerdy. Too interested in things no one else was interested in.