Chapter 2 #2
Callie sits up and turns in her chair to face Emma. “Tripp has a brother? How did I not know this? I feel like I should know a lot more about these guys than I do.”
“That’s because you and Will are practically glued together.”
Callie shrugs. “Alright, fair. Sorry, continue.”
Emma winces slightly. “It’s his estranged brother. They don’t talk—haven’t talked since the beginning of my senior year— Right before he broke up with me, it all blew up.”
“Oh, my word,” Callie squeaks. “This is so much more than I was expecting! What happened? Why don’t they talk?”
“Look, I don’t have all the details, but Tripp promised it wasn’t about me.” Emma shakes her head. “His brother hated our friendship and accused me of cheating with him constantly. Which never happened, but you’ll call me out if I didn’t acknowledge the small, teeny-tiny attraction on my end.”
I barely get my pah-ha out before Emma jumps on me. “Hey, what about you, Mrs. Daines? Let’s talk about how Beck just brought you all your favorites—completely unprompted.”
I grab her Shirley Temple back before she can reach it. “Talk of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and lose your drink.”
Callie snorts a laugh. “Here we go.”
“No, I’m not starting this right now,” I say before Emma can counter. She’ll have too many good points considering we give her the same crap about liking Tripp, but at the same time it’s different with Beck. Granted, her and Tripp seem a lot more complicated than I previously thought, but still.
As hot as Beck is—as good in bed as I’m sure he is—it’s not going to happen. I push the uninterested bit the best I can, but my girls have seen through that facade enough. I like him, and they know it. Well, Lucie, mostly, but Emma and Callie seem to have caught on over these past few weeks.
I’ve used time and other priorities as my excuse to not explore whatever this is between me and Beck for the most part. It’s usually enough to get them off my back, but the reality still stands, and as awful as it is to admit—I have a fucking crush on Beck.
There are many reasons I haven’t acted on it and two of them are sitting right across from me.
Callie takes a drink of her wine and twists slightly back and forth on the stool. “Okay, new topic. You’re almost done with your apprenticeship, right? We’re on our final week?”
“Yes, thank god. Eight more hours and one signature from my ass of a supervisor and I’m out of there. For the past month, I’ve been envisioning the insults I would tattoo on Hank’s forehead, but I’m running out of words for the bastard.”
Emma snags her Shirley Temple back. “How creative have you gotten?”
“Pretty out there. I started with Spanish curse words to make my mama proud, reimagined them in English, then took a little inspiration from Lucie and tried to think of non-curse words. Some were satisfying—most were not.”
Callie snorts. “I can only imagine. But you’re almost there and then you can tattoo your favorite one on his forehead legally.”
“The options are endless.” I glance over to the guys at their table.
Mia hovers over Beck while everyone places their orders.
Fighting the eye twitch, I scan the table to see who all came out tonight.
There’s Beck, and of course, Tripp, then Adam and Will across from them, then two empty seats meant for Callie and Emma.
I swallow down some of my pride. “You two can go hang with the guys, I’ll be here all night.”
Callie slides off the stool with a small smirk. “I’m not against feeling up my man for a bit, but I’ll be back. I only want my drinks coming from the hot tatted bartender.”
“Don’t flirt with me, Cals, or I’ll give Will a run for his money,” I joke.
Emma hops off her seat next. “Do it. Giving Will shit is my and Adam’s favorite pastime…ya know, minus baseball.”
I shake my head with a laugh. “Go have fun with the guys, just come see me when you need a refill.”
“Will do,” Callie hollers over her shoulder. “Unbutton your top a bit, and I’ll tip you better next time.”
I roll my eyes with the shake of my head, then realize half of the guys sitting at the bar are now looking at me in a completely different way. For fuck’s sake.
I push another hour before I spot Beck staring at me from across the bar.
I note his empty drink and Mia nowhere in sight.
There’s a small pull to walk over to him, but I fight it off.
Beck is a no-go zone, no matter how much of a hopeless romantic I am at heart—my brain is smarter. And my goals are my priority right now.
It’s a play I’ve been the star of before. A girl likes a boy—girl tells boy she wants a career and not his babies…girl moves to Boston with a broken heart and no friends.
I know deep down that this group is different, but if Beck and I were to have a nasty ending, it would be me who gets left out of the mix. Callie is just as close with him as she is with us girls. Lucie is all but married to Beck’s best friend, and Emma works for the team now too.
One-night stand or friends with benefits has crossed my mind several, several times, but it all loops back to that stupid heart of mine.
A crush I can move past, but full-on feelings is a whole different level.
I can manage what I feel for him now, but it all goes back to us wanting the same things.
I can’t truly know what Beck wants from me. He flirts constantly and meets me every Tuesday for a run together, but he has never exactly asked me out either.
Whatever we are works for now, and maybe one day this attraction will simmer down. All I know for certain is that I can’t hear how I’m not doing my womanly duties for not wanting to have kids right away, and I definitely don’t want to lose my girlfriends.
I set an old-fashioned and glass of chardonnay down on the bar top for the older couple in front of me. “Shall we start a tab?” I ask.
The man looks at his wife and nods with a bright smile. “That would be great.” He slides his card to me. “Any chance we can take these to the upstairs bar?”
The lady shakes her shoulders. “Oh, he’s actually going to dance with me tonight.”
See, this—I love this. As the husband kisses the back of her hand, I can’t help but smile. There are things I do and don’t want in a relationship, but love…true, obsessed with each other, love? Yeah, I want that…eventually, at least.
Sometimes, I really do think Beck would be this great guy to have that with but it’s not like I can ask him “Hey, so I know you flirt, and I act like I don’t enjoy it, but quick question…how do you feel about kids?”
When I return with the card, they raise their glasses to me as they get up from their spot. I watch as they walk hand in hand for a moment, but movement in front of me catches my eye.
“What can I—” I start, then stop when I see Beck’s moved to the spot the couple just vacated. “I thought I said I wasn’t serving you tonight.”
Beck takes the seat with a smirk. “I don’t need a drink. I told you I came for the company. Have you eaten yet or should I call Lucie?”
“Call Dex, actually. Tell him you want his girlfriend to bring food downtown when they’re supposed to be having family night.”
Beck opens his mouth then shuts it. “Touché,” he mumbles as he leans forward on the bar. “Just tell me if you’re about to pass out so I can look real heroic and catch you.”
I start to respond when a new person hollers at me from across the bar. “Just let me hit my head, you’d be doing me a favor.”
Beck tilts his head with a smirk. “Don’t let me keep you from working, ignore me like you pretend to do all the time.”
I bite my cheek again as I walk away. This will go away eventually, he’ll move on and my crush will fade. If my sister were here, she’d probably slap me for not telling Beck to move on after she helped snap me out of the last relationship I was in.
But she’s not here, and I’ve gained some serious strength since then. My hard exterior can keep Beck at bay, my heart will catch up eventually and we can just be a part of the same friend group.
I make some more drinks and refill Callie and Emma a few more times before I catch a small break.
I might be testing my restraint a bit, but I find my way in front of Beck again and open up one of the granola bars. “So, World Series?”
Beck leans over on the bar with a small smile. “We still have to play in the division series, but I feel good about our odds. You want to come watch?”
I snort a laugh and look around at anyone but him. “I’m not coming as one of your little groupies.”
“Oh, come on, you’d look so cute with my face printed on your shirt.”
I think I’d look pretty cute sitting on your face. Hell, that’s the wrong thought.
“Beckham,” I deadpan.
“I’m kidding, relax. I’m sure Lucie would love the company. If you want to come, it’ll just require a simple poster with ‘I love Beck’ written in big block letters.”
“Dios mío, does your ego need stroking on a daily basis? Or is it an hourly thing?”
Beck leans back from the bar with a shrug. “Depends. I start every morning with positive affirmations about how amazing I am. Then the rest filter in naturally from strangers. I’m charismatic, what can I say?”
I meet his emerald eyes. “You’re insufferable.”
Beck gives me that cocky grin. “Stroke my ego, or somewhere else for the tickets, Jenni-cakes.”
“Not happening.” Can’t. Won’t. And every negative contraction there is.
“I guess you’ll never know if I’m truly pierced or not…”
“That’s easy—you’re not.” At least, that’s what I’m forcing myself to believe. There are many things about Beckham Daines that I do not need to know, and at the top of the list is knowing whether his dick is pierced or not.
It’s been months since that damn game night where the topic was brought up. Just the idea of it was enough to bring an already ten-out-of-ten man to a freaking fifteen. Confirmation of what he could do with it would bring him up to a twenty.
Me kneeing him that night in the elevator was a cheap shot, but it was either that or call his bluff.
I take the last bite of my granola bar and toss the wrapper in the trash. “Thank you for the snacks,” I mutter, against my better judgment.
Beck’s shoulders drop slightly and an eyebrow raises.
“What? What’s that look for?”
The corners of Beck’s mouth turn down with a bemused smirk. “Just wasn’t expecting all this gratitude. Is that why you fight me so much? Are you just hangry?”
Instant regret. “I’m going to spit in your drink,” I mumble.
“Is that supposed to be a threat or a good time?” Beck folds his arms and leans closer on the bar top.
Dear lord, and I have a crush on this guy? Really? How the hell did this happen?
I catch Mia in my peripheral before leaning forward to meet Beck with a smirk then tilt my head toward my regrettable escape. “Hey, Mia, Beck needs a refill, and I think your phone number.”
“You little fucker,” Beck mutters before I walk away.