Chapter Twenty-Nine
August scrolled through the photos of his date with Paige on the Sugar Blitz IG account. The images had garnered thousands of likes and hundreds of comments. Sloane hadn’t wasted any time controlling the narrative of his date from hell. But she hadn’t lied. She’d been honest that the date hadn’t been a success but hadn’t painted him or Paige in a bad light.
“All fish in the sea ain’t for you” she’d captioned a photo of him eating a bite of the scallop from his pasta dish.
“When you realize you’re in need of a cupcake” was the caption of Paige hurrying out of the restaurant. Sloane had sent that one last night while they sat at the bar. She was a genius. She’d edited the photo on her phone, come up with the caption, and posted it within minutes, all without losing the thread of their conversation.
August sighed. He wasn’t resentful of her professionalism. Her business mind was one of the many things he liked about her. But was that all he was to her—a job, an assignment?
Was he the only one who’d struggled to fall asleep last night? The only one to lie there and replay their entire kiss—which, by the way, was such a tame word for what happened—over and over? The only one to replay the way the light shimmered in her brown eyes in the bar? The way her mouth quirked up at the corner when she was amused about something? The breathy, almost desperate sounds she made as they kissed? The only one to wonder if she made those same sounds when someone was kissing other, more intimate parts of her body?
The only one to slip his hand under his covers to find the release his body so sorely needed while fantasizing it was her hand, her mouth providing the relief?
“Shit.” That line of thinking was not helping.
She’d texted that she was working from home that morning and she’d be in that afternoon to chronicle more of his adventures. Disappointment and relief had warred within him as he read the message. He wanted to see her. He always did. But he had no clue what he would say or do. He’d hoped she wanted more, and just when it seemed he was getting his wish, she ran off like the hounds of hell were chasing her.
And he’d let her.
August sighed again.
And here he was at Sugar Blitz Two. Alone. And not doing a damned thing other than obsessing about what was and what could have been.
Sloane, apparently, wasn’t suffering from the same fate. He raised his phone to eye level. She’d even called up Paige and gotten a statement from her. “August is really nice, but I wasn’t ready to date yet. Hopefully, he’s still free when I am. Until then, I’ll continue to lust after him like every other person attracted to men. He’s the real deal.”
Paige had posted the statement on her Twitter account. Sloane had wasted no time retweeting it and screenshotting the post to post on Instagram.
At least he could breathe a little easier on that front. The neighborhood committee wouldn’t have his head about breaking the heart of one of their own. He hadn’t put Sugar Blitz in a worse publicity spot.
It was official. Sloane was a certified badass. She was a certified badass he wanted more than a Super Bowl win. And the feeling had been reciprocated last night, for a few minutes at least. Fuck.
Footsteps sounded from down the hall. August sucked in a breath. Had Sloane decided to come in early after all?
When Donovan rounded the corner, August’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. No. Definitely not Sloane. His eyebrows lifted in surprise when Nicholas emerged from behind Donovan. He tilted his head in inquiry. What are y’all doing here? he asked silently.
“To check out our investment, of course,” Donovan answered. They rarely needed words to communicate. Over the years, Donovan had become a genius at reading August’s expressions.
“That’s the official answer,” Nicholas added as he turned in a circle to take in the room’s updates. He nodded approvingly. Nicholas strongly believed in aesthetics. Other than wanting to make sure the food tasted good, making sure everything looked good was his top priority.
August leveled a death glare at him. He already knew where this was going.
Nicholas, the arrogant bastard, grinned in response. “The unofficial reason is we came to get the dirt on your date.”
On a scale from one to ten, August’s level of surprise came in at a strong negative three. He went back to opening boxes. “There is no dirt.”
“That’s not what the streets are saying. And by the streets, I mean Instagram,” Nicholas, the gossip hound, said.
August stopped his motion with the box cutter to glare at Nicholas again. “There is no dirt.”
“So you didn’t send your date screaming into the night?”
“No.”
“Do you plan on seeing her again?” This time from Donovan, the traitor.
He shot him a dark look. “Why all this sudden interest in my love life?”
“Well, it is part of our marketing plan. To expand our customer base and get people to show up here when we open, and not in protest.”
“And as you saw on Instagram, we’re still good on that front. Crisis averted.”
Donovan pursed his lips. “True…”
August glared. He didn’t have time for this bullshit, but he was also a realist. Donovan and Nicholas weren’t going to drop this, but he could give it the good ole college try. Go Bruins. “And?”
Nicholas rolled his eyes, while Donovan sighed. “And it’s been a while since your divorce, and we’re happy to see you getting out there again. We wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Nicholas moved to stand next to Donovan. “Yeah, that. And also because it’s funny that you have groupies who call themselves SugarBaebies. I need to know how a date with a SugarBaeby went.”
August side-eyed him. “I appreciate your concern, but it was fine. I’m fine.”
Donovan nodded. “You still didn’t answer my question.”
August gave a momentary thought to playing dumb but dismissed it just as quickly. That wasn’t his way. Never had been, never would be. “No, we’re not compatible, as our social media accounts reported already. Which I know you checked, because you’ve been keeping tabs on Sloane’s progress and the neighborhood watch group.”
Clearly unrepentant, Donovan shrugged. “I had to come see for myself.”
August held out his hands. “As you both can see, I’m here doing just fine.”
Donovan exchanged a glance with Nicholas before replying. “We don’t mean to pry, but are you open to continuing to date other people, now that you’ve gotten your feet wet?”
They did mean to pry, but August understood. His divorce had fucked him up, even if he rarely spoke about it. He hadn’t gotten married with the idea that he’d fail at it. He’d wanted that forever with someone, that partnership, that unconditional support he’d never received from his father after his mother passed away. He’d thought he’d found that with someone he’d known and loved for years. But the marriage had ended anyway.
He’d spent years questioning himself. Had he done enough? What could he have done differently? And in the darkness of night when he had nothing but his thoughts to keep him company in the quiet—was he loveable?
Donovan and Nicholas had been there for him through it all, even if that meant simply stopping by his place with his favorite whiskey and playing dominoes while August did everything but talk about his marriage and how he’d never felt lonelier while roaming through the eerily quiet rooms of his house.
Nicholas had coaxed him out to a club once. August had hated every second of it. He gave zero fucks about the VIP lounge or bottle service or women drawn to men in the VIP area. After that disaster, Donovan had told him about someone who was interested in a blind date. August had politely declined.
But last night, on the date that wasn’t a date with Sloane, that situation had felt different. Good different. Natural. He wanted that feeling again. He wanted her. And she wanted him, too, even if she’d run away.
Years ago, the first time they’d kissed, hadn’t been their time. But now, now was different.
Donovan and Nicholas were still staring at him, waiting for a response.
“I’m fine. When I put my mind to it, I do know how to speak to a woman.”
Donovan’s eyes narrowed for a second, then he nodded. “Good to hear.”
Nicholas whistled. “Soooo… you’re not heartbroken that you’re not going to see her again?”
August glared at his nosy-ass friend.
Nicholas spread his hands wide. “I had to ask.”
“I thought you were up on your social media. Sloane already set up my next date on Tuesday night.” Desiree had wasted no time throwing her hat in the ring, sending a direct message through Instagram. Sloane had texted to ask if it was okay for her to accept. He’d agreed because… shit, he didn’t know why. Probably because he was annoyed Sloane could toss away their connection so quickly. Pride really was a motherfucker.
“You sound less than enthused.”
August shrugged. “I’ve met her. There was no chemistry.”
Nicholas crossed his arms over his chest. “So you’re cool with dating, but not with this woman?”
Yes, that was it. So simple. Sloane had captured all his attention—long ago, and even more now. If he was going to go through the whole rigmarole of dating, shouldn’t he do it with someone he was actually interested in?
Nicholas narrowed his eyes. The gossip hound was on the scent. “Wait. Is there someone you are interested in?”
Yes. Absolutely. August shrugged. “Possibly.”
Donovan lifted a finger. “That’s a yes.”
Nicholas’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But you’re going out with someone else?”
August sighed. “Yeah, because that’s what I signed up for. To help the shop. To step out of my comfort zone.” What went unsaid was that he always met his obligations.
Oh, shit. That wasn’t technically true.
He had agreed to a date, but he could date whoever the hell he wanted to. There were no rules that said he couldn’t. This whole premise was about stepping out of his comfort zone and taking chances. This was his opportunity, and not just in a roundabout “hey, we’re friends” kind of way. Time to lay it all out on the table.
Opening his dating life up to scrutiny wasn’t his idea of a good time, but he’d put himself in this situation. He’d give Sloane the content that would lead to her professional dreams coming true while hopefully making his personal dreams come true. To be with Sloane. To love her with his whole heart like he’d longed to do for too long.
And it was up to him to do it. Years ago, she’d put herself on the line and he’d hurt her. He’d inadvertently rejected her again a few days ago. It wasn’t fair to expect her to do it again. This was all on him. Time for him to make a move that couldn’t be misinterpreted or ignored or waved away. Yes. Calmness and certainty swept through his pores.
“Okay, change of plans. Yes, I’m going out with someone, the person I’m interested in. If she’ll have me.”
“Why wouldn’t she have you?” Nicholas asked.
“We… have history.”
Nicholas nodded in understanding. “You fucked up.”
Weren’t best friends awesome ? “I’ve made some mistakes, and I don’t think she thinks I’m for real.” Who could blame her? Rejecting her all those years ago and telling her their recent kiss was a mistake. Yeah, he’d fucked up.
“You gotta change her mind. Wine and dine her,” Nicholas added, ever so helpful.
August held up a hand. He didn’t need any help from a member of the peanut gallery, even one with as illustrious a history as Nicholas’s. His stomach pitched. Except he did. He hadn’t put in effort for a date in way too many years. And when he’d been in the dating stage, he’d been a college kid more concerned with making sure he got to football practice on time. Shit, he hadn’t dated in years, forget seriously dated someone with the hope of a future. What was he going to do?
“No need to panic. We got your back,” Nicholas said, reading his face.
Oh, God. Nicholas was the king of wining and dining, but never with the intent of really getting to know his date. He kept people at a distance, whether consciously or subconsciously, with his sunny demeanor.
Donovan slapped Nicholas on the back. “I don’t think going to the hottest club in town where you can’t hear yourself think with a woman you’ve already silently agreed to sleep with, is August’s style.”
Nicholas’s eyes narrowed. “For your information, we only go to a club if it’s her idea. The sleeping together part too. I can’t help it that so many women are attracted to me.”
Donovan rolled his eyes. “Okay, Pretty Boy Nick. My mistake. Back to August. What do you have planned for this date?”
Sloane had said the date needed to be “aesthetically pleasing” for the ’Gram. She’d also wanted to switch it up from the first dinner date. She’d suggested ziplining. He’d ixnayed that one in a heartbeat. He didn’t do heights or flimsy harnesses. Shit, when he flew to away games, he made sure to take sleeping pills during the flight. He also sat in an aisle seat and made sure all the shades were down on all the windows near him.
But he had the perfect idea. He quickly explained.
“Sounds dope,” Donovan said. “You got this.”
He hoped so. There was just one more thing.
“In the interests of transparency and the rules of being best friends, I need to tell you I’m talking about Sloane.”
Donovan nodded, ever pragmatic. “Yeah, I figured that out. I’m just glad you did.”
Nicholas held out his hand toward Donovan. “Gimme my money.”
August glared. “You assholes really bet on my love life? You bet on your sister’s love life?”
“Yes,” Nicholas and Donovan answered simultaneously.
“At least I had faith in you,” Nicholas said.
“I wasn’t sure you’d get out of your own way,” Donovan said, holding up his hands when August glared at him.
“Get out of my store. Both of you.”
Nicholas grinned. “We will as soon as Donovan pays up.”