Chapter 45 Beatrice
BEATRICE
Things I’ve learned since walking into Everett’s home:
One, he has the coolest apartment in the world with the best bathtub.
Two, making him blush might be my new favorite thing to do.
“Everett, did you buy me decaf coffee?”
“You, my friends, anyone who might like it, really,” he says, his voice a little higher than it usually is as he tries to play it off.
My smile only grows.
Not only did this man go to the store on the way to my apartment earlier to buy every remedy for morning sickness he could find online, but he also insisted I needed peace and quiet and brought me here.
Sure, it might only be for the day, but I’ll take it.
And he’s stocked his kitchen with decaf coffee.
Thinking back over his thoughtfulness has my eyes burning and my nose itching.
No, please. Please don’t start crying.
While he’s got his back to me, brewing up a storm with his coffee machine, I discreetly wipe away the couple of tears that spill free.
“What did you want to eat?” he asks while I open the packet of crackers I brought out here with me.
“Brunch would be great,” I tell him before taking a bite.
“Pancakes? Waffles? Bacon?”
When I don’t respond instantly, he spins around to see why.
A laugh tumbles free when he finds me snacking.
“I didn’t think it possible, but I think I might have found someone who eats more regularly than I do.”
“Hey,” I complain. “It’s your fault.”
He raises a brow. “Hey, those condoms were in date, thank you very much.”
“And I took my pill as regular as clockwork, so don’t go looking at me,” I counter.
“Safe to say it was a joint effort,” he concedes before picking up two mugs and walking over.
“Thank you,” I say, accepting it happily and bringing it to my nose to inhale.
Everett watches me as I take a sip and take a moment to decide if I like it or not.
“At the risk of embarrassing myself even more,” he starts. “I ordered all the best-rated decaf coffee and then tested each one. That was my favorite. But if you don’t like it, I kept all the others. We can redo the test and—”
I place my hand on top of his that’s resting on his thigh. His body tenses at our connection, but the second I say, “It’s perfect. Best decaf I’ve had yet,” he relaxes. “Thank you for being so thoughtful.”
“It’s not…I wasn’t…”
“Anyone would think that you were planning on moving me in.”
“Oh no, that’s not…I didn’t—”
I can’t help but laugh at the tight, panicked expression on his face.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt through my laughter. “I know you’re not moving me in, that’s crazy. I really do appreciate the escape, though. This morning hit me out of nowhere. I’m praying it isn’t a new regular thing. I can’t spend all my mornings hugging the toilet, I have clients booked in and—”
“Sienna can move them. If you’re sick, you’re sick. You’ve got to look after yourself,” he says, cutting me off. “You and”—his eyes drop to my stomach—“our baby are more important than your clients.”
I open my mouth to respond, but he beats me to it.
“Wait, no. I didn’t mean that. Your clients and your business are really important. I just meant that…” I squeeze his hand.
“I know what you meant,” I assure him. “There might be many people out there who think being a beauty therapist and owning a salon is a laughable career choice, but I know you’re not one of them.”
Anger passes through his expression, his eyes darkening and his lips thinning as he thinks about my words.
“Who thinks that?” he demands, the creases in his forehead deepening.
I shake my head, regretting saying anything. “No one. It’s nothing. Just stupid stereotypes.”
He stares at me, his chocolate eyes bouncing between mine as if he’s searching for the answers.
I know the moment he figures it out. His shoulders tense and his grip on his mug becomes so tight I’m sure he’s about to shatter it all over his lap.
“Your parents,” he mutters.
Pain rips through me. “My mom,” I correct. “My dad died long before I decided what I wanted to do with my life.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t really remember him. I was six.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah,” I agree, thinking back and wondering just how differently my life would have turned out if he hadn’t been taken from us too soon.
“Mom…she became determined to do right by him, to make him proud. All credit to her, she took over at the firm, and they’ve grown and become even more successful.
He would be proud of that achievement. But I can’t help wondering what he’d think of the cost of it all.
“From what I’ve learned, he was a family man.
He always put us before work. But Mom never did.
My brothers are older than me. They’d already decided to follow in Dad’s footsteps, and they’re proud to do so.
Maybe it would be different if they had a choice.
Maybe they’d have taken their lives in a different direction. But it was too late.
“Mom expected me to do the same. Go to Berkeley, study law, and join the family firm.”
“But you didn’t,” he guesses.
“Nope. I never wanted to. From as early as I can remember, I wanted to do beauty. Dad would have supported me; I know he would. But instead, Mom gave me an ultimatum, and well, here I am,” I say, holding my arms out.
“You’re incredible.”
“Awesome and incredible. You really think highly of me, huh?” I tease, unable to stop myself.
He shakes his head, rubbing at his rough jaw. “You’re never going to let me forget you overheard that, are you?”
I click my tongue. “I gotta tell you, it’s highly unlikely.”
He chuckles before sipping his coffee. “If I didn’t know this was decaf, I wouldn’t have guessed it.”
My chest tightens at his silent confession. “Everett, you don’t need to stop drinking caffeine, just like you don’t have to stop drinking alcohol.”
“And you don’t have to be growing our kid, but you are,” he counters.
The thought of me doing anything but keeping our baby rocks through me, and I curl in on myself protectively.
“I know I didn’t really give you a chance to discuss there being a different outcome, but even if you didn’t want our baby, I don’t think I could have terminated the pregnancy. I’d have just done it alone.”
His jaw tics, and he lowers his head for a beat.
“I respect that. But I never, ever would have suggested you do anything you didn’t want to do. And I promise, no matter what happens, wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, I will always support you and our baby in whatever way I can.”
Those goddamn tears flood my eyes again. Why does he have to be so sweet? Can’t he go back to being the arrogant hockey player from that night? That way, I might be more likely to hit him than to sob on his shoulder.
“Bea,” he warns. “I don’t know what to do with tears.”
“Then you should probably take me back home, because I have zero control over these things right now. I’m like a leaky freaking faucet.”
He chuckles before pulling his phone out. “Will food help?” he asks, pulling up a delivery app.
“Food always helps.”
“See, look at all the things we have in common.”
“I’m not sure you can count food as a common interest.”
“I’m counting it. Oh, I love this place. What do you think?” he asks as he passes his cell over.
“Oh my god,” I mumble as I scroll through the menu. “It all sounds so good.”
“Choose whatever you want,” he tells me, his attention burning the side of my face as he watches me.
I glance over, wondering what’s so interesting, because it can’t possibly be me. “What?” I ask when it becomes obvious he’s not going to look away.
“I like your freckles,” he blurts.
When his entire body stiffens beside me, I realize he didn’t actually mean to say it out loud.
“Thanks,” I whisper, feeling my cheeks heat.
“You’re…uh…really pretty. That’s the first thing I remember thinking that night.”
“That I was pretty?” I ask, my brows pinching. “Really?”
He rubs his jaw. “Fine. No, it wasn’t. I thought you were hot as fuck, and I needed to know how to ensure I’d get to spend time with you.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Sounds more like the man I met that night.”
He smirks.
“Have you chosen?” he asks, changing the subject.
I make a few more selections because…well, why not? before handing back his cell.
He nods as he checks out my selections before adding a few of his own and placing the order.
“It’ll be here in thirty minutes.”
I nod, suddenly feeling a little awkward as silence settles between us.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around,” he suddenly says, the deep rasp of his voice ensuring he has all my attention.
“It’s okay. I know you’re busy.”
“I wasn’t,” he confesses. “Well, not really.”
“Okaaay.”
He sinks deeper into his soft couch and stares straight ahead.
“All of this has been a lot to take on,” he starts. “I wasn’t in a good place after how our final game ended. I…I have this habit of believing that everything is my fault, and I let it eat at me until it explodes.”
I don’t say anything for fear that he’ll stop talking. I’m desperate to know more about this man, and if he’s willing to open himself up to me, even just a little bit, then I’ll take it.
“I thought I was doing okay, but then you dropped that bomb about an engagement and a ring and I just…I couldn’t process that on top of everything, and I checked out. I’m sorry.”
My instincts beg me to scooch closer and offer him my silent support. But after what he’s just said, I don’t know if that’s the right thing to do. Maybe I should be pulling away, not getting closer. “You have nothing to apologize for. I know all of this is a lot to take on.”
“But then, this morning when you didn’t thank me for your coffee like you always do, I panicked. What if you’d come to your senses and didn’t want me around anymore? What if you realized that you’d be better off without me?”
“No,” I say, giving in and moving closer.
My knee presses against his solid thigh as my hand wraps around his thick bicep.
He immediately looks over. There are dark shadows in his eyes, ones that I wish I could banish. But the kind of pain I can see swimming in them isn’t the kind that others can fix. Only Everett can deal with those issues. Sure, those around him can help, but ultimately, it’s on him.
“I never once thought that. We might not have planned this, but we made a baby together.” I press my free hand to my stomach. “We’re in this together. And I would never cut you off. Our baby needs you. I need you.”
Silence falls, and the air between us crackles as our eye contact holds.
Everything I felt that night comes rushing back to me as heat floods my core.
I swallow thickly, my tongue sneaking out to wet my bottom lip, and Everett’s eyes drop to watch.
His throat tics, and his bicep tenses as if he’s physically holding himself back.
My breathing increases, and my chest begins to heave.
Kiss me. Please.
My body is screaming for it. For his touch. For everything I know he’s able to give me. Everything I’m failing to give myself right now.
I swear, he leans in and closes the space between us. I’m fucking sure of it.
But just when I’m convinced he’s going to do something, his cell pings in his lap. He jumps to his feet so fast it almost gives me whiplash.
“It’s my sister,” he says in a rush. “She…” His brows pinch as he stares at his cell. “She wants me to tell you to look at your cell.”
“Me?”
He looks up, his expression tight and his lips pursed in frustration.
“Is there anyone else here?”
“I…um…I’ll go get it,” I say before scrambling from the couch.