Page 79 of The Score

Chapter 26

Pen

Bear's dark eyes watch me carefully. I keep my breath controlled, but barely.

"The pub lady made me think of it," I say. "If you'd married Tamara, you might have had four kids of your own already."

Since our wedding kiss, my body tries to go into all sorts of weird states. Randomly. Disconcertingly. Clearly, the parts of my brain that can't be reached by reason are going through it, and processing something new. I'm not privy to the contents yet, but they feel intimate. Sometimes sexy. Scary, too.

All I can do for now is manage it all by holding a stable breathing pattern. In books, they taught me that helps.

Had Bear married Tamara, I would know if Bear's promises about the endurance of our friendship would stand the test of time. If he'd married her, he would be a dad most likely. Who knows how that would have changed things between us, considering how his romantic relationship impacted us.

When he and Tamara were together, Bear did his best to include me and spend time with me, but it didn't always work out that way. For one reason or another, Tamara would often be there too. It would be fun, of course, becauseshe was so damn great… but my one-on-one time with my best friend went from perfect to too little, and I missed him. I missed him so much.

I never told him. Not even when he started having inside jokes with her too, and was able to communicate with his girlfriend without words. Until then, that had only been possible between him and me. Just a few short months after I met her at the café, she was his go to— or so it seemed to me. I heard everything, and I knew everything, but I was second.

He lifts an amused eyebrow. "Quadruplets? Two sets of twins? Tell me what I would have been aiming for, in your head. Because Tamara and I would have been married for less than two years, had I proposed. Hard to make the math work for four kids in such little time."

I roll my eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, that Tamara and I would have had to be fucking as if I had a breeding kink."

"I don't know if you have that kink— or any kink—" I stutter.

God. Does Bear have kinks? What might it feel like to have him carrying out fantasies with you— on you— to be taken and used by a man like him— I bet one would forget to breathe— you'd forget youexistfrom the power of it—

What the fuck am I doing? My banter skills have all but died. All I manage is to make myself breathless. I'm embarrassing myself.

I keep going before he can respond to that dangerous question. "Not that it matters—"

"I don't have a breeding kink, Penélope." He interrupts me, shaking his head like he's begging for a reprieve.

"Not the point," I finally say. "The point is that, bar fertility issues, you could be a dad by now. Fertility issues are more common than people think. But you want to be a dad."

And I find it harder to think about than I thought. Not only because it means he'd be having sex with someone else. I mean, with a girlfriend. Or his Future Wife, the one he'll marry for real one day, and with whom he might try to makebabies. It's because it's another reminder of the kind of things he wants, that he won't find in our friendship.

"It's not totally up to me, isn't it?" he asks. "Fertility issues are one thing, but what if she doesn't want kids? All I can do is have the conversation early and hope we're on the same page. The rest is still up in the air."

Breathe in, breathe out. I need all the help I can get. Not because of the baby thing. I never cared to think much about kids, and it remains something I don't spend too much time on. But the babymakingpart…

I twirl a strand of hair around a finger. "Did Tamara not want kids? Is that why you didn't marry her?"

"We had a few conversations. She wanted kids."

He takes a long sip of beer. I do too. All the while, I don't stop staring at him.

From the relationship he had with Tamara, I learned what to expect from him finding his one true love. If I learn why he didn't marry her, after all, I might know what he's actually waiting for. It seems important, somehow.

"I know you fell hard for her," I say. "So why?"

He rubs his lips together. "I think I did, but… at the same time… I don't think I fell hard enough."

"But the way you looked at her—"

"It never felt right."

"Bear…"