Chapter 10
Matthew
“Was the Coffee Loft picture a setup?”
“Nope, that’s the only honest part about our relationship. It’s what sparked the whole thing. It started going viral, thanks to the Madame C’s, and Travis thought it would be good to capitalize on it.” I place my elbows on the weathered wooden table and start turning the cold bottle of soda between my hands. “Obviously, I didn’t plan on it turning into this. We even signed our own contract with four rules. One of them being that nothing real can ever happen.”
I’m not one to vocalize my feelings, but the weight of it all is pressing down on me, and I need to talk to someone about it. That’s why I called Owen. He’s the type of guy to tell it to you straight. He’s reliable, and he’ll hold you accountable. That’s why I knew I could have him as my person to talk to about the contract and fake dating.
When he told me he was in town for a game, we agreed to meet up at this small burger joint. It felt like this was my chance to get advice on everything and figure out what to do next.
“C’mon, man. Just say it.” Owen leans forward and quietly says, “You like her.”
I’m unable to suppress the smile that creeps onto my lips as I think of Beth. “Yeah, she’s amazing. She’s kindhearted and has this way of lighting up a room with her presence. She’s intelligent and has this fierce determination. Her sense of humor is unlike anyone I’ve ever known, and the way I feel around her…”
A broad grin splits Owen’s face. “That’s what I thought.”
“But it’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
I rake my hand through my hair. “I travel a lot. It’s demanding and exhausting.”
“And? She knew what she signed up for,” he counters with a shrug, as if it’s the simplest thing it the world.
I sigh. “Yeah, but it’s a fake relationship for a few months, not a real one. She has a new business and her own plans to think about.” And we agreed—no feelings.
“Have you talked to her about it?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“No…”
“Why don’t you do that before worrying about imaginary problems?” Owen suggests, a sly smirk grows on his face. “She might not even like you back.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Way to boost a guy’s confidence.”
“I’m just saying, those are things to figure out together.” His tone is steady and reassuring. “It’s good that you’re thinking about her too. But I think you have to talk to her about it first. Then y’all can handle the obstacles together.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck where tension has settled. “It’s just…what if it doesn’t work out?”
“Then it doesn’t.” Owen shrugs nonchalantly. “You move on. But you’ll never know unless you try.”
“We still have half of the contract time left. Maybe I’ll just wait. I need to focus on the game anyway.”
“That’s up to you. But I’ll tell you one thing…you’ll always regret not doing it sooner, but you’ll never regret trying.”
I take a swig of my soda, the fizz tickling my throat, as I ponder his words. A heavy sigh escapes, and I look at Owen. “You’re probably right.”
“Of course I am.” He grins, raising his soda bottle in a toast. “I’m just surprised you admitted it.”
I roll my eyes, the corners of my mouth curling, and clink my bottle against his. “Don’t get used to it.”
He bursts into laughter. “So what’s next for you?”
“Finished Suncoast Classic at number eighteen, which isn’t as high as I was hoping but still good. This morning, I received news that I got a sponsor exemption to the Bluewater Championship.”
“No way, man! That’s awesome. This is what you’ve been waiting for—your shot at your Summit Pro Tour card, right?
“Yeah, this is it. I still can’t believe it.”
“Proud of you, Matthew. Look at you! Chasing after your dreams.”
“Thanks, Owen. The crazy thing is Betthew is what got me the sponsor exemption. A post from the Savannah Marsh Classic went viral, along with a few others, and the Bluewater sponsors were thrilled.”
“Who knew the fake relationship would really lead to this?”
“Well, Travis, apparently.”
Owen nods. “That’s why he’s our agent. Dude knows best.”
“Yeah, he’s always got our backs. That’s for sure. So what about you?”
“We got games this weekend against the Jacksonville Jetties then back home. Too bad you can’t make a game.”
“Send me your schedule, and I’ll do my best to make one.”
“You got it.” He looks at his watch and sighs. “I hate to run, but we got a team meeting. Congrats again, man.”
“Good luck against the Jetties.”
As he leaves, I sit there alone with my thoughts swirling around in my head like a tornado. Owen’s words have given me a lot to think about, and while I’m still not sure what route to take, the thought of possibly having a future with Beth doesn’t seem as impossible as I thought. But I still don’t know if this is the right time.
I make my way out of the restaurant and head over to my rental car. Beth is this whirlwind that has, coffee spill and all, stormed into my life. Her wit, her charm, her undeniable passion for what she does.
I shake my head, trying to clear my muddled thoughts. There’s still so much to consider, so many factors in play. But Owen’s words keep echoing in my head. You’ll always regret not doing it sooner, but you’ll never regret trying.
I don’t know what the future holds or how Beth views our situation. All I know is that I’m stuck in this web of “what ifs.” What if I tell Beth how I feel and it changes everything? What if she doesn’t feel the same way and leaves? What if it ruins our friendship/work relationship?
My phone buzzes on the seat next to me, yanking me out of my spiral of thoughts. It’s a text from Beth—just seeing her name triggers the warmth in my chest, the lightness in my head, the curling of my lips into a smile.
Beth
Hey, sorry to bug you at dinner. Just wanted to make sure we’re still on for the photoshoot tomorrow?
Me
Not bugging me. Yes, tomorrow is good. How was your night?
Beth
Productive. Just wrapping up a few things now.
Me
Good. Heading back to the hotel now. Need anything?
Beth
I’m good right now, but can I get a rain check for a caramel latte tomorrow?
Me
Only if you take a sip of my black coffee.
Beth
EW. No. Never again.
Grinning mischievously, I type back with a teasing tone.
Me
No rain check then.
Beth
You’re the worst.
Me
Your sweet tooth is the worst.
Beth
It’s called taste, Matthew. Something you clearly lack…
Me
Well, if liking black coffee is wrong, then I don’t want to be right.
Beth
You’re hopeless!
PS bring a few extra shirts for tomorrow.
Me
Understood, boss.
Beth: Oh, and bring your smile…we’re also doing some trending videos.
I groan internally, thinking about how much I dislike being on camera, especially for those videos.
Me
Oh, goody. Can’t wait.
Beth
Mhm, I sense sarcasm.
Me
Nice detective skills, Sherlock.
Beth
Just for that, I’m adding an extra video to the roster.
Me
Now you’re just doing this out of spite.
I set my phone down on the passenger seat, a smile lingering on my face. The playful banter with Beth is always a highlight of my day. But it’s also these small private moments that make me question what’s real and what’s part of the contract.
I turn on the radio in an attempt to shut off my brain, but it doesn’t really work. My mind is still reeling thinking about Beth, what Owen said, my career, our potential future together.
When I get back to the hotel, my phone lights up again.
Beth
PPS. You better remember my caramel latte or there will be consequences!
I chuckle, feeling a twinge of affection for her fiery spirit.
Me
Consider your caramel latte remembered. Wouldn’t dream of facing those consequences.
Beth
Wise choice, Mr. Pro Golfer.
Me
Goodnight, Beth.
Beth
Goodnight.