CHAPTER 4
KEATON
I’ve been anticipating today since Gemma left my place after asking me for help. Something has been nagging me since she walked away with a smile plastered on her face. Did she really think I wouldn’t know it was fake?
As much as I wanted to chase after her and find out exactly what made her change her entire attitude with me, I didn’t. I’ve been playing our conversation in my mind over and over, trying to find the moment when what felt natural began to crack.
I think it was when I told her she’s like a sister to me. Everything shifted the moment those words left my mouth while regret slammed into me. It’s been fucking years since I looked at Gemma like a sister.
Still, I said those words to her. She tried to hold her composure, but I watched my words land like shrapnel. I couldn’t exactly take them back even though I wished I could the moment I said them.
When I tried to get her to say something, admit it, or lay into me, she couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I’m not sure if the disappointment that she didn’t sass me about my flippantness was worse, or the sinking feeling of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time to the wrong person.
It’s been eating at me.
When I knock on her door, I want to run away. But I’ve never been the kind of guy to run away. I’ll think about it though. I’ve never considered it more strongly than I am right now.
The same fake smile Gemma wore the other day as she ran from my house is plastered on her face when the door swings open. “Hi, Keaton,” her voice is chipper, but that’s nothing new.
Gemma is all sunshine. It’s how she’s been her entire life.
It’s one of the many reasons why I keep needing the only shield I have against her—watching her grow up as Gary’s sister. It was so long ago now. Those memories are sweet, but distant now in a way that feels safer.
“Hey,” I greet her as she steps back and I walk inside.
My eyes dart around her space. The house is small, but cozy and it’s so Gemma. Everything is mismatched, but cohesive at the same time. I don’t quite understand how it all works, but it does.
I want to sink into her sofa and watch movies with her while sharing a bowl of popcorn. As I look at the space that already feels like mine, I try and push the mental image away. It’s not easy because it’s so damn clear, I can almost smell the butter in the air.
There’s an awkward beat between us before Gemma blurts out, “I really appreciate you coming by and looking everything over. Like I said, it’s really the ratio of hops to cannabis where I have the biggest problem.
It’s all science and I know that; I’ve basically just been throwing wet spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks and what doesn’t.
All I know is the pasta isn’t ready yet. ”
While trying not to laugh, I have to press my lips together to not let the sound out. Hopefully, it’s not obvious that I’m barely stopping my shoulders from shaking.
“I’ll be honest, I need to do some more research on your issue, and I think you’re right about the ratio. I can’t answer those questions yet. I think starting at the beginning is always a good idea.”
“That felt very teachery,” she fires back while eyeing me suspiciously.
“Occupational hazard,” I explain with a shrug.
“Yeah, yeah.” She blows a raspberry. “It’s not like I’m going to disagree.
I can walk you through it.” Her mouth twists to one side as she glances at me.
“Just don’t make fun of me,” before I can say anything, she rushes on, “I know you’ve been doing this a lot longer than me and you understand what is happening. ”
“Gemma,” her name comes out softer than I expected and I run my fingers through my hair to stop myself from reaching for her, “I’m not going to make fun of you.” My eyebrows furrow and I lean toward her slightly, needing to ask. “Have I ever made fun of you?”
“No.” She waves her hands in front of her. “It’s not like that. I just understand that you have the education and experience I’m lacking.”
Her words, her fear, sit in my gut and twist.
“If you’ve produced a beer that’s drinkable, you’re not doing poorly as far as I’m concerned.”
I hope my words smooth over the awkwardness hanging in the air. I don’t like the thought of her thinking that I’d make fun of her. Or make her feel like she’s less than me. Do I give off that kind of vibe?
When I glance down at myself, like there’d be some kind of sash around me declaring any such vibe, I realize I’m being ridiculous.
“What do,” she pauses and clears her throat like she’s nervous, which is ridiculous, before starting again, “what do you like about brewing beer? What’s your goal? Is it something you want to grow?”
I can’t help but smile at the way her questions tumble out of her. It’s endearing in a way that doesn’t normally touch me.
“I do find the process interesting. It’s also something that takes time.
There’s something both frustrating and relaxing about that.
You can’t rush it and you can experiment.
I guess,” I shake my head slightly, “it’s my way of giving into being a science nerd at home.
In a masculine and respectable way, of course. ”
Gemma’s head tips back slightly as she laughs and for a moment everything disappears. She’s not Gary’s sister. The woman in front of me is just that—a woman. One who is beautiful, one I want.
“And your goal?” She pushes, curiosity written all over her face.
“Just to make a good beer,” I tell her honestly.
“That’s it?”
“Of course.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her. “Were you expecting some sinister plot or that I have designs to build some sort of craft brew empire?”
“Definitely sinister plot,” she nods with a serious look on her face she can’t quite hold.
“Or maybe,” there’s a tease in her tone, “the sinister plot is entangled with the craft beer empire. That would make the most sense. Talk about a villain’s origin story.
From Storyville to Gotham with hops paving the way. ”
“I’ll try and keep my psychopathic tendencies under control,” I promise with a chuckle. “And not go to the dark side.”
“At least not this season,” she deadpans. I can’t help but chuckle and she joins me. Her voice has a certain note of curiosity, “So it’s just as simple as loving beer and science?”
“Were you really expecting something more complicated?” Her cheeks heat slightly with my question. “I hate to disappoint you.”
“I’m not disappointed,” she waves a hand, “and it doesn’t need to be complicated. I’m not even sure what I was expecting your reason to be.”
“There’s nothing secretive going on.”
“I guess not,” Gemma grumbles slightly, as if she was hoping for something more.
When she gets up, she claps her hands together. I get up after she motions for me to join her.
“We should get the show on the road.”
As she leads me to her brew area, she starts talking and walking me through everything, starting with the standard beer she made to begin with. Her set-up reminds me of where I was a few years ago. It’s not top of the line, but it’s respectable.
I look over everything and we walk through it slowly. The entire time, I keep my face neutral while asking a few questions. What I don’t do is give any feedback. Not yet.
And I sure as hell don’t compare the two of us. The last thing I want is for Gemma to feel like I’m judging her.
Her fingernail taps the cover of a notebook while she looks at me with tired eyes. “Do you want to see everything I have when it comes to the cannabis-hops ratio? That’s the next step as long as you don’t see anything glaringly wrong with the basics here.”
I look around one more time to make sure I haven’t missed anything. My words are measured, “Everything looks good. It’s clear you’ve done all your research on what you need.”
She cuts in, “I know I’m not using top of the line items, but I couldn’t invest that much. Not yet at least.”
I hold a hand up, my voice softening, “I totally understand. My words were not meant to ridicule you.”
My eyes stray down to her neck as she swallows hard. It takes everything in me to force myself to look away. I desperately want to kiss her skin there.
It looks so damn soft.
My cock goes rock hard and I can only hope she doesn’t notice the bulge in my pants. “You don’t need to have the best things when you first get started. Upgrading later is the smart thing to do.”
Her shoulders drop slightly, as if my words have soothed something inside her. It shouldn’t make me feel the kind of satisfaction I’m feeling right now. But it does.
When her nail taps the notebook again, my cock throbs and I know I need to get the fuck away from her. If I don’t, I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself.
“I think I should do some research to better understand why you’re getting the results you’re getting.
” My voice is far more strained than it should be when she blinks up at me innocently, “You can tell me what kind of result you want? Is there a certain percentage you’re targeting?
Is there one you can’t go over or under? ”
Gemma bites her bottom lip and my gaze locks onto the little indent left behind by her teeth after she releases it. I’m barely able to stifle the low groan rumbling in my chest. My palms itch with the need to reach for her and pull her against me.
I’m barely able to pay attention as she starts to talk to me about percentage points and the goal she has for her brew. I can’t look away from her lips as they form every word. My body leans closer to her without me realizing it.
Before I even realize what I’m doing, my arm hooks around Gemma’s waist while my other hand comes up and cups her face.
“What are you doing?” Gemma’s barely able to squeak out the question. She sounds nervous, but when I look down into her eyes, her pupils are dilated with desire, and I can see the need and the hunger there.
“I don’t know,” I rasp out the truth.
Then my mouth slams down on hers. The gasp that comes from her is fucking delicious. Her lips are so damn soft and the way her body melts against me is everything. Somehow, I manage to pull her even tighter against me.
I get lost in the feeling of her in my arms. When my tongue slides into her mouth, something shatters inside me. My restraint? The last of the lies I’ve been telling myself about Gemma for years?
Her hands find my shirt and twist in the fabric, pulling me impossibly closer to her. The way she opens for me has my heart pounding in my chest.
When everything rushes back in, I pull away from her so completely that she sways. Thankfully, she rights herself before I need to hold her up.
“I’m sorry,” words start to tumble from my lips, “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Gemma’s mouth falls open and she looks at me with hurt in her aqua eyes. I feel like I’m making a mistake in real time, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
The look on her face cracks and something in her eyes crumbles. But I’m already moving.
By the time I make it into the car, I’ve barely taken a breath. When I start to drive, the memory of the way she looked at me washes over me. The moment I step inside my house, I know I’ve made a mistake.
A big fucking mistake.
She was in my arms. I had my hands on her and pulled her closer to me. Her taste was on my tongue.
Then I apologized and said I shouldn’t have kissed her.
I slump back on my couch and look around. Part of me is surprised I’m even here right now. I don’t really remember the trip, which is never good.
When I close my eyes, I feel the way her lips felt against mine. The way her body let go as she gave herself over to me.
I want more of that feeling. But if I have it, I already know I can’t go halfway. Gemma deserves better than that.
Gary will be pissed if I’m with his sister, but she’s worth it. Maybe he won’t overreact. Maybe. I almost laugh maniacally at the thought. There’s no way he’ll be okay with it.
But it might not even matter if I’m willing to go up against Gary or not. I hurt her. It was written all over her face.
I fucked up. Now I’m not sure what to do.