Chapter 27
Sugar and Spice and Everything Not So Nice…
The measuring cup trembled slightly in my hands as I poured sugar into the mixing bowl, my mind replaying last night's kiss for the thousandth time.
Matt had kissed me right there in front of fifteen thousand screaming fans, claiming me like I was his prize, like he was proud I was his girlfriend.
The memory sent butterflies doing aerial stunts in my stomach.
Buzz.
My phone lit up on the stainless steel counter, and I practically dove for it, flour-covered hands and all. My lips pulled into a smile as I read, wiping my hands on my apron before reaching for my phone.
Matt: Good morning, beautiful.
I melted into a puddle of goo right there on the café floor.
This was the same man who'd whispered those exact words against my neck this morning, his voice all gravelly with sleep.
Such a contrast to the big, bad wrestler who commanded arena crowds, this soft, early-morning Matt who made pancakes in his boxer briefs.
It was so crazy to me that a year ago, my husband told me I wasn't good enough, and now this gorgeous man who could have anyone in the world was obsessed with me.
Brooke: Good morning!
He'd left for L.A. early this morning, and his bed felt too big after he was gone, and the sheets were too cold.
It was amazing how quickly you could get used to someone's warmth, their steady breathing, and the weight of their arm draped across your waist. It should be too soon to miss someone this much, and yet here I was, checking my phone every few minutes like some lovesick teenager.
Maybe this was what people meant when they talked about soulmates, this ache of rightness when they're here, this hollow echo when they're gone.
The truth was, I didn't think Matt even knew how much he'd done for me in the few short weeks I'd known him.
He'd given me the courage to walk away from my toxic father.
He made me feel beautiful when I really thought I wasn't. The way he looked at me made my insides melt.
He gave me back the confidence that so many others had slowly stripped away from me.
Matt: I have an interview in an hour, and then we start filming, but FaceTime later?
Brooke: Yes!
The front door chimed, and I called out, "Take a look at the menu! I'll be right there!" while trying to wipe flour off my face with my sleeve.
"No worries, bitch," came Davina's voice from the doorway. In Davina-talk, 'bitch' was basically a hug.
"What are you doing here?" I dusted my hands on my apron.
"You said Kali called in sick." She grabbed an apron from the hook. "And you didn't have time to chat, so have no fear… Davina's here." She struck a dramatic pose. "Put me to work, boss lady."
I pointed my whisk at her threateningly. "You're a terrible baker."
"True." She dodged the flour spray, "but I make a mean cup of coffee."
The doorbell chimed again, and I started to head out front when Davina waved me off. "I got it. You finish those muffins because I'm going through serious best friend withdrawal."
But before she could reach the door, it burst open and Kali stumbled in, looking like she'd seen a ghost.
Davina and I froze. "Uh," I started, "what are you doing here? I thought you were dying of the plague or something."
Kali's eyes darted between us like a cornered animal. "I, uh…"
"Kali." I stepped forward. "What's wrong?"
She shook her head, but her face screamed Everything is wrong, and I'm about to ruin your day.
"Did something happen?" Davina asked. "Are you still sick?"
Kali cleared her throat, and the look in her eyes made my stomach drop to my shoes.
"Kali." My voice took on a warning tone. "What is it?"
"Brooke," she whispered like she was about to tell me someone had died.
"Just say it," I ordered, bracing myself. "What is it?"
"You and Matt are all over the internet."
I exhaled the breath I'd been holding. "Yeah, I know. He kissed me at his match last night. I saw it this morning, but I've been kind of busy because someone called out today." I shot her a teasing look.
My gaze shifted to Davina, who was flipping through her phone, eyes getting wider with each swipe.
"What is it?" My stomach started to knot.
Her eyes shot up as she dropped her hand with her phone in it to her side. "Nothing."
"Davina," I scolded her. "What is it?"
"It's trolls."
"Trolls?" I repeated. "What kind of trolls? Like, the kind that live under bridges?"
"The kind that live in their mom's basements, hiding behind computer screens and saying nasty things about people they don't know."
My chest tightened painfully. "What did they say?"
"It doesn't matter," Davina said quickly. "None of it is true."
I held out my hand. "Let me see."
She shook her head, so I rolled my eyes and lunged for my phone.
"Brooke," Davina's voice was sharp. "Do not do this to yourself. It doesn't matter what a bunch of keyboard warriors think about you and Matt."
I froze, staring at my black screen.
"Do not torture yourself," Kali added. "It's not worth it."
My shoulders sagged. They were right. Why should I care what strangers thought?
"Put the phone down," Davina said, "and walk away. Let's go out tonight instead."
"Actually," Kali grimaced, "that's probably not a good idea either."
Davina's head snapped back like she was offended that her idea wasn't good. "Why not?"
"Because when I came in, I had to lock the front door. The sidewalk is swarming with paparazzi hoping to get a photo of Brooke."
"Seriously?" I frowned.
She nodded. "I think we should get you home, and Davina and I can come back and close up."
"But you're sick."
She shrugged. "I'll survive. Let's get you out of here and home before they show up at your front door."
"My car's around back." Davina was already untying her apron.
I looked around at my half-finished muffins, my flour-covered workspace, and my normal life that had just gotten turned upside down by one very public kiss.
"Welcome to dating a celebrity," I muttered, grabbing my purse.
"Hey," Davina linked her arm through mine, "at least he's a hot celebrity."
Despite everything, I couldn't help but smile. She had a point.