Rein
Yes. Yes, I did.
Is that what happened?
No.
Why not?
Because this is real life, not some cheesy Turkish telenovela, like the ones Granny is so obsessed with she taught herself all about VPNs just so she could pirate them to feed her insatiable addiction.
But the main reason I didn't want to speed from declaring my feelings for Beau to having sex in the space of half an hour is that it wouldn't have felt right. This is a big thing, and I want to do it properly, every step of the way.
We've been navigating this whole situation—buying the team, dealing with our feelings, and unpacking the fallout from the carnage my parents caused—in, what I think is, the best way possible.
By communicating. Honestly, openly, and frequently.
"Do you want the glass-half-full version of what I'm thinking or the more realistic one?" Beau asks as we get out of my car in the VIP parking lot of the resort.
We're here for a business meeting with Sabrina, and I've just asked him what's going on in his head since he was pretty quiet on the drive over.
"Glass half full," I answer, which sends one of his eyebrows racing up.
"That nervous, are you?"
He can read me like a book. "Yeah. This is a big deal."
A showdown, more like it. Beau and I, as well as Sabrina, have put in our final offers on the vacant parcel of land between my and Beau's new stadium and my family's resort.
Things were tense enough between me and Sabrina as it was.
I'm still hurt that she kept what our parents did to me and Beau from me, then when she found out we were in the running to buy the land, she completely withdrew.
Normally, we speak if not every day, then every second day.
This will be our first contact in over a week.
"Do you know what she wants to talk to us about?" he asks as we enter through the sliding doors into the main lobby and take a sharp left.
"No idea. I've been racking my brain to think of what it could be. We haven't been in touch lately."
"You miss her, don't you?" Beau slides his arm around my waist as we walk, drawing me into his warmth.
"I do. I'm still majorly pissed at her…but I do."
"That's understandable. You two are really close. And for what it's worth, at least she's apologized and owned her role in things."
"I know. But now we're in this shitting bidding war with her. Talk about terrible timing."
"It's done though. The final bids are in. Maybe she wants to call a truce before the decision is made?"
I glance sideways. "I'm not sure if that's a glass-half-full or half-empty observation."
Beau grimaces. "Yeah, neither am I, actually."
Sabrina's assistant greets us when we reach her office, buzzing her to let her know we're here. I always find that amusing. As kids, we'd give each other wedgies, and now I have to get cleared to see her.
We enter her office. Sabrina is sitting behind her massive desk, not on her computer… waiting for us? Waiting to attack? I glance at Beau, who gives me a small nod, before flashing a massive smile at my sister and asking her how she's been.
We exchange pleasantries. The atmosphere is stiff but not lethal.
So…maybe no attack? Or, she's lulling us into a false sense of security and will devour us to pieces when we least expect it?
This is the sweet, innocent-looking girl who would cheat the house down to win at Monopoly. I am not putting anything past her.
"There are two things I wanted to talk to you both about, face-to-face," she says, done with niceties, moving on to the meat of the matter.
"The first is, I want to look into your eyes and apologize to you both for not telling you about what Mom and Dad did, and also for not doing anything to stop it at the time.
I was much younger and more easily swayed by them than I am now, but that's still no excuse.
Wrong is wrong, and I knew it was wrong, and I still did nothing. "
"Thanks, Sab." Beau smiles, meeting her eyes with what seems like true forgiveness. "That means a lot. And for what it's worth, your parents put you in a situation they shouldn't have."
She lets out a breath, somewhat relieved. "And then there's the matter of the bid for the vacant lot. Dad was pushing me hard to secure the land."
A knot twists in my stomach. Her voice takes on that quiet, warning edge I hate. I can sense she's about to say something bad. The only question is, how awful will it be?
"What have you done?" I ask, a small tick pulsing along my jaw.
"Something very underhanded," she replies. "I have an in with the seller, so I got access to all the final bids."
Beau frowns. "Why would you do that?"
I slump back in my chair, incredulous that my sister would stoop so low. "So she could see how much everyone bid, including us, allowing her to come in with the highest offer. Right, Sabrina?"
"Half right," she answers tightly. "Yes, I had access to everyone's bids. Including yours, which was the highest, by the way."
"Just shitting great," I mutter.
"Will you let me finish, please?" She shoots me a glare she really has no right to. If anyone should be glaring, it's me at her. "I saw you guys had the winning bid, so when it came to submit mine, I…oops…" She taps her cheek. "Came in fifty K under."
"What?!" Beau and I exclaim at the same time.
"Oh no…" Sabrina rolls her eyes. "My intel was incorrect. At least, that's what I told Dad who is on a warpath. So, congratulations, you two. You outbid me, and the land will be yours. The seller will contact you sometime later today with the good news."
"I-I can't believe it," Beau stammers, staring at me wide-eyed before leaping to his feet and rushing over to Sabrina to give her a bear hug.
She squeals as he lifts her off the ground, and all I hear is him saying "Thank you, thank you, thank you" as Sabrina dangles off him, her expensive red-soled shoes nowhere near the floor.
When Beau finally puts her down, she's smiling and happy and the same little shit I've loved ever since she was an orange blob Mom and Dad brought back from the hospital when I was three.
"I figured it was the least I could do. A small gesture to show you how truly sorry I am for everything."
"It's not a small gesture, sis." I walk over to give her a hug of my own. "It means the world to us both. Thank you."
We got the call from the seller later that afternoon. Beau and I were elated, and we rode that high all afternoon and into the evening, and, if everything goes according to plan, I'll soon be riding him well into tomorrow.
"More wine?" he asks, spotting my empty glass on the coffee table.
We're at his place, a weathered New England farmhouse he plans on fixing up, curled up on the sofa, talking excitedly about our plans for the team and stadium.
"No. I'm good, thanks." I've had two, just enough to, ahem, loosen me up a little without getting too drunk to enjoy what I hope will be a magical experience.
"Cool. What do you feel like doing?"
Eyeing him up and down in his charcoal joggers and a soft rust-colored T-shirt that clings to his chest and arms like it was made for him, I say, "I can think of one thing we can do that we haven't yet."
He grins, his brown eyes sparkling with interest. There's movement in his sweats, too. "Oh yeah. Such as?"
"You fucking me."
His breath catches. "That's, um…"
"Sorry. I meant to say, making love to me."
"Yeah. We could—we could definitely do that."
"Did I catch you off guard?"
"A little, yeah," he admits, sliding his huge palm up and down my leg. "I thought you'd say 'Watch Netflix' to be honest. And…" He clears his throat then wets his lips. "When it comes to sex, I wasn't sure if you'd be interested in, uh, being on the receiving end of the play."
"I was a great wide receiver. Remember?"
His eyes flick to me, looking at me like he still can’t believe this is real. "Is that what you want?"
I give a decisive nod. "Yep." Then, needing to check, I ask, "Assuming that works for you?"
"It does. Very much."
"In that case…what the shit are we waiting for?"