Mindy’s face scrunches up like someone just ripped a stinky fart. “Ben likes wearing costumes?”

“He doesn’t wear them,” I clarify. “I said he’s a fan of my costumes.” Well, just one costume, but I’m sure he’ll like others.

“Ben, really?”

He smiles. “I feel like I shouldn’t say anything because your brother is in the room and he won’t want to know.”

“Huh?” Jake says. Then it clicks. “Oh, ew. Yeah, no details please. I don’t even want to—nope. Just stop.”

Everyone else laughs. Everyone but Mindy. I know the woman hated me in high school for some unknown reason, but why be a bitter bitch now?

“Don’t you feel a little old to be dressing up in costumes?” Mindy asks.

I’ve been asked that before, many times, actually. “No. There’s not an age limit at Comic-Con, and Cosplaying in my spare time doesn’t hinder my adulting. Well, not that much. I still go to work and pay my bills and all that. I don’t see how it’s any different than any other hobby. Some people jog and knit and do other … uh, things. I like to sew costumes.”

Mindy raises her eyebrows. “Yeah, sure. I think it’s weird.”

“Just because it’s weird to you, doesn’t make it weird,” Ben cuts in. “Felicity is right, again. I say to each his—or her—own. As long as your hobby doesn’t involve chickens, Vaseline, and a dark shed, what does it matter?”

“All I’m saying is there’s a reason hardly anyone is into that stuff.” Mindy purses her lips and leans back. Danielle is beginning to look mortified, which makes me like her a little more, even if she’s friends with Mindy and her sister.

“Do you know how many people attend Comic Cons?” I ask. “A lot. And I like that it’s not mainstream.”

“Life is too short to worry about the opinions of others,” Ben says pointedly. “Not a lot of people are brave enough to do what they love without fear of judgment.” His eyes meet mine. “It’s just one of the things I like about you.”

I’m smiling, and the background fades until it’s just Ben and me left in the room. My heart flutters and Ben’s fingers press into my skin.

“Want to go outside?” Ben asks. “I want to look at the water. It’s inspiring.”

He takes my plate, sets it in the kitchen, and we go out the front door.

“You should fire Mindy,” I say and look down the driveway for Erin’s car.

“I’ve thought about it,” Ben confesses. “But she’s actually good at selling stuff, and I hate interviewing people.”

“Meh, I guess.” I take Ben’s hand and make a mental promise to myself. No matter what, Mindy is not ruining the rest of the day. I’m not going to talk about her or bring her up. I’ll save her from drowning if need be, though I’ll wait until she goes under and ruins her hair and makeup before diving in. Other than that, I’m ignoring her.

Today is all about fun and friends, and she’s neither of those.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“He is seriously perfect,” Erin whispers. “I can tell he really likes you.”

“I hope so,” I say back. “Because I really like him. It’s been so intense since day one. I can’t even with the passion. Like it’s just so much.” I shake my head and smile. “I just hope that he doesn’t feel this way about anyone else.”

“I don’t think he’s seeing anyone else,” Erin says and leans on the sink. “Not with what you’ve told me, and not with the way he looks at you.”

I wobble when I stand, turning to flush the toilet. We ran inside before the fireworks started to use the bathroom and gossip. “But we never had a relationship talk. He said he dates other women.”

“When did he say that?”

“Uh, before we hooked up the first time.”

“Things can change,” Erin slurs. I’ve lost count of how many alcoholic beverages I’ve had. I still got my wits about me—okay half my wits—but I would say I’m drunk. Erin is probably just as drunk and she’s had two wine coolers. Such a lightweight.

I wash my hands and run them through my messy hair while Erin uses the bathroom. I give up on my hair. I need something more substantial than my fingers, and loosen the ties on my bikini top. I kept it tight to hold the girls up, but my neck is starting to hurt. The struggle is real when it comes to these puppies. But it’s a love-to-hate problem.

Ben gets along great with everyone, and everyone likes him. I’ve never been ashamed of anyone I’ve brought home with me, but I’ve never exactly been proud of them either. And I’m not talking about his incredible good looks. I’m talking about Ben. Who he is. What he does. He’s just an all-around great guy.

The sun is almost set and I get hit with a blast of hot, humid air when we leave the house and step out onto the deck. My entire family is crowded on it, all sitting in a circle around a fire pit that is probably dangerously close to the house. But in our family, we drink and roast marshmallows wherever the fuck we want. Even if it’s against a fire code.

“I love nights like this,” Mom says. “When it’s still hot after the sun sets.”

I put my hand on Ben’s and pick up a red plastic cup from the deck floor. It might be mine. It might not be. I’m just drunk enough to not care. As long as alcohol gets in my mouth, I’m fine.

“I love summer,” one of my cousins chimes in. “It always goes by so fast after the Fourth.”

“Especially for us teachers,” Danielle says, and another cousin agrees. He teaches math at the high school here in town.

“I can’t wait for fall,” Mindy says. “I live for pumpkin spice, leggings, and Ugg boots.”

I cannot hide the horror on my face. Not only is Mindy an insult to the female race, she’s the most basic one at that. I stare at her like she just got caught not washing her hands after taking a shit, then shake myself. I don’t care, remember?

We continue talking and drinking, then turn our chairs when the fireworks start. We “ooo” and “aww” for nearly an hour, eat some more, talk, laugh, and continue drinking. The party breaks up around midnight. I walk Erin to her car, give her a hug goodbye, and promise to call once Ben and I get back into Grand Rapids.

Zoey and Mindy leave without saying bye, which is fine by me. Jake, Danielle, Ben, and I help my mom and aunts clean up most of the mess until the others are too tired to keep going on. Danielle kisses Jake goodnight, saying she’ll see him in the morning. I see the question in Ben’s eyes, so I’m not surprised when he asks me about it once we slip outside.

“They say they are waiting for marriage,” I explain and collect red Solo cups from the deck, pitching them into a recycling bin.

“Waiting to have sex?” Ben asks like he can’t believe it.

“I haven’t asked for details, like if just slipping the tip in counts or not, but yeah, they say they haven’t slept together yet.”

Ben’s nostril flare. “People still do that?”

I laugh. “Some people, yeah, I guess. Hmm … maybe I should go cold turkey and save myself too.”

“Hell no,” Ben says. “I love fucking you.”

The smile is back on my face. “I assumed so. And I love fucking you too.”

“You better.”

I shake my head and run my eyes over him. He’s still shirtless, somehow not sunburned, and just … amazing. I’m floating above the sand, looking down at the shore. Is this real life?

Fireworks continue to go off, reflecting on the lake. We end up on the edge of the dock, swinging our feet above the water, arms around each other. We talk about everything and anything, and the next thing I know, the sun is creeping up, and storm clouds are rolling in on the horizon. Exhaustion hits me when I stand (and probably dehydration; it’s hot and I drank a lot) and I hold onto Ben to keep from faltering. We walk down the boardwalk hand in hand, and thunder rumbles distantly over the lake.

“Good timing,” Ben says slowly. He yawns and pulls me in. I twist and wrap my arms around him. The wind picks up and he kisses me. Time stands still. My heart races and everything is finally perfect in my world.