Chapter Twenty-One Ezra
Chapter Twenty-One
Ezra
You’re enough, Ezra. For me, you’re enough.
I didn’t know I needed to hear those words as badly as I did until Summer said them.
I’ve spent so long feeling weak after my labral tears, but maybe she’s right. I am not my injury. It’s just something that happened to me. It doesn’t have to define me. I don’t have to let it win.
“More cider?”
I shake my head at Odette. “No. I’m driving, so I’m a one-and-done kind of guy.”
“Suit yourself,” she says with a shrug. She pours another pint of Neutral Zone, then one of Glove Save for Noah, before settling back down at the counter.
“Thanks, Odie.” Noah presses a kiss to the side of her head, and while usually I’d be annoyed by all public displays, I don’t mind it as much as I typically do.
I know it’s because if Summer were here, I’d be doing the same thing.
“I’m starving,” Odette complains. “When is dinner being served?”
We’re gathered in Stick Taps waiting for Summer to put the finishing touches on her menu debut.
She showed it to me this morning after I woke her up with my tongue between her legs, because she was worried about what ordering would look like.
She had nothing to panic over, though, because it looked perfect.
It’s balanced with a mix of Pacific Northwest–themed dishes and more universal options, and I can’t fucking wait to try it all.
“She said ten more minutes.”
“That was ten minutes ago.” Odette groans. “I’ve been fasting for this all day.”
“That’s incredibly unhealthy,” I say, and she flips me off.
I chuckle, and her jaw drops.
“Ezra Rawlings, are you . . . laughing?”
I stop, my smile flipping into a frown, my eyes thinning. “No.”
“Shut up! Yes, you were!”
“I was not. Noah, tell your girlfriend she’s being annoying.”
“Fiancée,” he corrects. “And she’s right. You were laughing. It was weird.”
“I laugh.”
“Yeah, but not often.” Noah takes a sip of his cider. “Though now that Odette mentions it, you’ve been laughing a lot more lately. Smiling too.”
“I have not.”
Except I have. I know it, and he knows it.
I can trace right back to where it started, too—Summer.
She’s been so giddy all day, running around the cidery, buzzing with excitement as she works in our new state-of-the-art kitchen.
The crew officially wrapped up yesterday, which was perfect timing for a “friends and family night” tonight.
We can try out the menu and give the kitchen a mini–test run before Summer begins training the new staff we’ve hired for our grand reopening.
“You’re doing it again,” Odette points out, poking at my face.
I pretend to try to bite her, and she swats at me.
I’ve never had a little sister, but I imagine if I did, we’d be a lot like this, always picking at each other.
“Would you two grow up?”
“Oh, sorry, old man. Are we bothering you?” Odette sasses her fiancé.
He might scowl at her, but it’s clear she amuses him.
Is that . . . Is that what I could have if I let myself? With Summer? Is it even something I want?
I don’t have time to analyze that more, as Summer chooses that moment to stop hiding out in the kitchen.
“Oh my gosh, food!” Odette cheers as our chef rounds the corner with two trays stacked tall with grub.
I rush off my stool to help her—and this time, when my hip aches, I don’t let the anger set in like it usually would. That moment in the chicken coop yesterday changed something in me.
You’re enough, Ezra. For me, you’re enough.
“Here, let me take that,” I say, grabbing one of the plates.
“Aw, look. Ezra can be nice,” Odette comments.
Summer giggles. “Ezra’s always nice.”
Odette scoffs, and while Noah says nothing, I can still feel his eyes on me.
I pretend I don’t and help set the spread of various foods on the counter.
“This looks amazing,” I say, taking everything in. “Are those pork belly bites?”
“Yes.” Summer smacks my hand away as I go to grab one. “And you need to wait. I have another tray in the kitchen. Can you grab it?”
On instinct, I move in to kiss her. Her eyes widen, and she steps back, playing it off like nothing happened.
But something did happen, and a frozen Odette and Noah tell me they saw it too.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I clear my throat and mutter out a quick “I’ll be back” before hightailing it to the kitchen.
I don’t exhale until I’m out of sight.
What the fuck was that, Ezra? You almost gave everything away! What were you thinking?
I wasn’t, and that’s the problem. It was pure instinct to kiss her in that moment. At least for me it was. Not for Summer, though. She knew we couldn’t.
Maybe she’s not as wrapped up in this as I am.
An ache forms, and this time it’s not in my hip. It’s in my chest. I rub at it, trying to scrub it away as I push all thoughts of Summer and how natural it feels to want to kiss her out of my head.
We’re not here for that tonight. We’re here for the new menu. I can sort the rest out later or bury it deep inside where I never have to think about it again.
Yeah, that part sounds good.
I grab the last tray and take it out to the taproom.
Odette, Noah, and Summer are all laughing.
“What’s so funny?” I ask as I set the food down.
“Izzy. She just sent a picture of her seatmate sleeping on her. Look.”
Odette shoves her phone in my face, and the photo is just as she described.
“She’s on her way back, then?”
“Yep.” Odette wiggles in her chair, clearly excited about reuniting with her best friend. “She’s flying into New York, spending a day doing touristy stuff, then we’ll pick her and her boy toy up from the airport on Thursday.”
“Boy toy? She’s bringing someone back?”
“Yes, because she loves me and wants to have a date for the wedding.” Odette gives me a pointed look.
“I have a date.”
Odette’s mouth drops open, and even Noah is looking at me in disbelief.
“What?” I shrug. “I’m capable of getting a date, you know.”
“Who? Who is it?”
“Me,” Summer says.
“Yes!” Odette cheers. “It’s about time!”
I want to ask her what she means by that, but I’m too distracted by Noah. His eyes are trained on me, and he’s giving me a look that reminds me a lot of the one Summer’s father gave me at the iceplex.
Knowing.
I look away.
“Chill out. We’re just friends, and Ezra’s doing me a favor so I don’t show up alone, and he’s got to do all those best-man duties anyway,” Summer says as she grabs the stack of small plates she got out earlier and starts to line them up.
“Um, he’s doing you a favor? Pfft. Please.” Odette laughs. “You’re hot. The favor is all yours.”
“Hey, I’m hot too,” I argue.
She ignores me. “Anyway, I’m glad you two took my advice. It’s going to be so fun. We’re going to dance all night.”
“I don’t dance.”
“You will, or I’ll bust your kneecaps,” Odette threatens me.
“I can’t have busted kneecaps and dance.”
She grabs a piece of food off the nearest tray and launches it at me.
“Hey, hey!” Summer interjects. “Stop throwing my food. We’re supposed to be eating it.”
“Yeah, Odie, grow up.”
She launches herself at me, but Noah’s quick to hold her back. I just laugh.
Summer rolls her eyes, but there’s still a smile playing on her lips.
And I realize then that this is fun—hanging out with Noah and Odette and Summer and being here with them. It’s actually, truly fun.
Is this what I’ve been missing out on all this time, being angry? Is this what I could have had? Is this what I want?
“I’m good, I’m good.” Odette smooths a hand over her hair as she settles back down on her chair, Noah watching her like a hawk, making sure he doesn’t need to interfere again. “Sorry, Summer. Present us with the menu.”
“Thank you.” She clears her throat, then points to a pile on the tray. “First up, as Ezra guessed, we have pork belly bites. They’re smoked, then glazed with your own Empty Net cider and homemade barbecue sauce to really punch up that pear and peach flavor.”
She puts a few pieces on everyone’s plates, and though I haven’t had it yet, I already know I’m going to need more.
“Next,” she says, scooping up some of the fried food I was hoping would make the final cut. “Mac and cheese balls. We already had a version of this, but this is better. It actually has flavor. And bacon.”
“You added bacon?”
She grins at me. “I added bacon.”
She continues going over everything she’s cooked up, and by the time she’s done, it’s clear she’s thought of everything.
There’s something for everyone here, from the pork belly to the brussels sprouts that are out-of-this-world good to the three different kinds of sandwiches and even the salmon bites.
There’s even simpler stuff, like sourdough pretzel sticks that are served with beer cheese, a charcuterie board featuring local meats, and our beloved Seattle-style hot dogs that nobody can ever seem to get enough of.
It’s exactly what we were looking for—a little bit of new, some old, and something very local.
“Enjoy,” she says when she’s done presenting everything, and I don’t think she even finishes talking before we’re all digging in.
The sounds coming out of all of us are borderline pornographic as we bite into our meal.
“This is incredible,” Odette says through a mouthful of the pulled pork that’s been slow-cooked in our green-apple Face Off cider. She chews, then swallows. “I can’t remember the last time I had something this good. Remind me again why you’re not catering our wedding?”
“Because you never asked me.”
She mumbles something about how she should have, then shoves another bite into her mouth.
I eat, and I enjoy every bit of it, but what I like more is watching Summer watch us. Her eyes are shining with happiness, and I can tell that this is fulfilling her in a way she’s missed far too much since she left Chicago.
I could do this forever.
I freeze for a moment, then pretend that thought didn’t cross my mind and keep eating. If I act like it never happened, then I don’t have to question why the idea didn’t scare the hell out of me.
I know I like Summer. That much is obvious. But it’s nothing more than that. It can’t be.
You’re enough, Ezra. For me, you’re enough.