Chapter 29
Big Girl Panties and Big Decisions
By spring, Matt and I had fallen into one of those sickeningly perfect rhythms that made other couples want to throw things at us.
You know the kind, lazy mornings where he'd bring me coffee in bed, share inside jokes that made us laugh until our sides hurt, and the way he'd automatically order my ridiculously complicated drink before I could even open my mouth.
Everything felt effortless, which made the online hate that much harder to swallow.
The only storm cloud over our happiness came through my phone screen.
Every photo Matt and I posted triggered a fresh wave of comments questioning what someone who looked like a Greek God was doing with someone who looked like.
.. well, me. The words started bleeding into real life, making me second-guess every outfit, every public appearance, every moment I dared to exist in his orbit.
Which gave Davina and me the brilliant idea to commandeer an empty office in the back of my café and start a podcast. It started with us just venting our frustrations while stress-eating day-old pastries. Six months later, we had nearly one million subscribers.
What had started as two friends having therapeutic meltdowns in my storage room had become something we never expected…
a movement. A podcast called 'Big Girl Panties,' where we tackled everything from the brutal dating world to societal beauty standards, with guest appearances from everyone from dating coaches to that one guy who ghosted Davina after three dates and then slid into her DMs asking if he could use her for a reference.
"Do we have anyone lined up for today?" I asked Davina as I wiped down the front counter, probably for the fifth time in ten minutes, because nervous energy had to go somewhere.
Her gaze lifted from her laptop, and I immediately recognized the expression.
It was the same smile a cat gives a mouse right before pouncing.
"We don't have any callers or guests set up, but…
" Her grin widened dangerously. "We've been getting a lot of requests for you to tell your story again.
You know, the whole 'how Brooke met her impossibly hot boyfriend' saga. "
"I've already told that story," I groaned, dramatically throwing my cleaning rag onto the counter. "Multiple times."
"Yeah," she nodded sagely, "back when we had four subscribers and two of them were my mom using different email addresses."
I leaned forward, letting my entire upper body collapse onto the counter.
"You don't have to do it if you don't want to," she continued, her voice taking on that overly sweet tone that meant she expected me to do it, "but it's such an amazing story.
It gives people hope. Not just women, but men too.
Plus, the comments are always hilarious. "
"Okay," I sighed, knowing I was defeated. "I'll do it. I just hate talking about myself. It feels so... narcissistic."
"Says the woman who started a podcast about her dating life," Davina shot back with a smirk.
"That's different! That’s… educational!" I held a finger up. "Plus, it wasn't just about my dating life. It was also about you and every other woman in this world."
She chuckled as she closed her laptop and shifted in her seat, and I could practically see the gears turning in her head. "So…"
"So?" I raised my eyebrows, bracing myself for whatever bombshell she was about to drop.
"Matt asked you to go to Ireland with him. Have you decided whether you're going or not yet?"
There it was. The question I'd been successfully avoiding.
I blew out a heavy sigh that could have powered a small windmill. "I don't know," I whined, channeling my inner five-year-old. "I have so much going on here. How am I supposed to just pick up and leave for a month? What if the café burns down? What if Karen misses me? What if…"
"Well," Davina interrupted my spiral with infuriating logic, "I think you should start by promoting Kali and letting her hire a few people. You know, like a normal business owner would do."
I nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, it's getting pretty crazy."
"Well then, it's settled."
I shook my head vigorously. "No, it's not settled! What about the podcast? What about Karen? I can't just abandon my responsibilities!"
"We can do the podcast virtually, it's called technology, Brooke, look it up. And Karen can come live with me for the month."
I stared at her like she'd just offered to babysit a rabid wolverine. "Are you sure you want to do that? She's kind of a Karen, and you hate cats."
"No," Davina corrected with a pointed look, "I hate your cat. She's genuinely evil. I'm convinced she's plotting my demise."
I laughed. "You don't think it's completely insane for me to pack up and practically move to another country with a man I haven't even been dating a year?"
"Uh, hell no," she pushed out of her chair with dramatic flair, "especially not when said man is Mataio Strickland. Do you know how many women would kill to be in your position? Plus, it's freaking Ireland! Land of gorgeous landscapes, charming accents, and really good whiskey!"
"I still have a little while to decide," I said weakly.
"Okay," she drew out the word like she was talking to a particularly slow child.
"I can't believe there's even a decision to be made here, though.
" She slid her laptop off the table and strolled toward me with purpose.
"I mean, how often does the man of your dreams invite you to your top bucket list travel destination?
This is literally what fairytales are made of, Brooke! "
"Ugh," I huffed out another dramatic sigh. "I know, I know. I guess I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or the piano to fall from the sky. Or for him to realize he could do so much better…"
"You're scared of being burned again," she said gently, cutting through my self-deprecating ramble.
I nodded, feeling suddenly vulnerable. "Scared of being hurt. Again."
She bit down on her bottom lip, her gaze shifting around the room like she was searching for the perfect words hidden behind the coffee machine.
"If you continue to live your life scared, you're going to miss out on actually living it.
It's going to hold you back from experiencing amazing things.
And yeah, you might get hurt, but you have a good cry, eat some ice cream, and then you pick yourself up and try again.
You put on your big girl panties and do what you gotta do. "
I smiled, recognizing our podcast's unofficial motto. It was what we told our listeners every single episode.
"And let's be real," she chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "the way that man looks at you? Like you personally invented sunshine and puppies? You can't fake that level of devotion. He's obsessed. He's in love."
I laughed, feeling my cheeks warm. "Don't get carried away. It's only been…" I paused, doing the math and realizing we'd been dating for nine months. Nine months of the most ridiculously perfect relationship I'd ever experienced.
"Long enough for him to know he's in love," she finished with a knowing smirk, "and I think you are too."
She wasn't wrong. I'd fallen for him so hard I was pretty sure I'd left a crater.
I blew out a heavy sigh, feeling the last of my resistance crumble. "I guess I'm going to Ireland."
She bounced up and down like an excited toddler. "I cannot wait to hear about it! I want details. All the details. The romantic ones, the embarrassing ones, the…"
The front door chimed, and Matt strolled in like he owned the place, which, given how often he was here, he basically did. "Hey," he flashed Davina his trademark smile that could probably end wars. "What are you two plotting now?"
"I'm heading back to get set up for the podcast while Brooke finishes closing up," Davina said innocently, though her eyes were practically glowing with mischief.
"You're still coming to the match tonight, right?" Matt asked her.
"Wouldn't miss it." Her gaze shifted to me, and I could practically see the devil horns sprouting from her head. "I think Brooke has something to tell you."
His attention turned to me, those ridiculously dark eyes filled with curiosity and something that looked suspiciously like hope.
Shit.
"Yeah," he smiled, and I swore my heart skipped a beat. "What's up?"
Davina disappeared into the back room, leaving me alone with Matt and my suddenly racing pulse.
“I…" I drew out the word like I was buying time to figure out how to speak English. "I made my decision. About Ireland."
"Okay?" His voice was carefully neutral, but I could see the tension in his shoulders.
"I think this is completely insane," I started, then took a deep breath and smiled. "But I can't wait to travel with you."
The smile that spread across his face was brighter than the entire café's lighting system. Before I could say another word, he was around the counter, lifting me and spinning me around.
"You're going to love it." He set me down but kept his arms around me. "I've already planned out half the places I want to show you."
"Just promise me one thing." I looked up at him.
"Anything."
"If this turns out to be a huge mistake, you're buying the plane tickets home."
He laughed, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Deal. But it's not going to be a mistake, Brooke. Trust me."
And I did. I really did trust him.