Chapter Seventeen
“How’s Beck doing?” I ask Blake as we restock the bar, gearing up for the weekend crowd.
He glances my way. “Uh, she’s good.” It’s been over two weeks since I last saw or spoke to her at the dead-end street that we park at for the lake. She’s even made a point to swing by work when I’m not around. Blake narrows his eyes as he breaks down the empty liquor boxes.
“What?” I ask.
“Why don’t you just ask her yourself?” he suggests.
“Because when Beck says she needs space…you give her space.”
He nods in agreement. “Yeah, you’ve got a point. Anyway, I think she’s been occupied with that new guy at the fire department,” he adds.
I raise an eyebrow. “What guy?”
Blake chuckles. “Jenson. Apparently, Dad tried to set them up when he first started at the station, but she wasn’t interested.
” He pauses, finishing up with the last box.
“Well, they had dinner together recently, and now she’s letting him take her out of town this weekend for some concert or something.
I’d say that’s progress…Beck’s had her little flings over the years, but nothing quite like this. ”
I nod thoughtfully. “Have you met him?” I press.
Blake shakes his head. “Dad really likes him…so much that he wants me to come over for dinner soon to meet him.” Clearing his throat, he adds, “He even asked if you’d want to join.” I shoot him a perplexed glance.
“Why would I go?”
Blake tilts his head at me. “Because your opinion matters to him…me…and B.”
I let out a long sigh. “Fine. Just let me know when.”
I shift my focus back to my task, though a sense of anxiety lingers.
But I know this is a good thing. She’s moving on and exploring options, and she deserves every bit of happiness.
I would never want her to feel like she has to spend her life alone, unlike my own choice to remain single and detached.
When I was younger, I was selfish with her in ways.
If I couldn’t have her, then no one could.
I think a lot of that came from not understanding my feelings.
It took me some time to accept what had to be, and realize it was okay to let her go because someone out there could give her what I couldn’t.
Whoever she ends up with will be incredibly lucky to have her.
I try to picture this Jenson guy. I feel a little at ease that Eric seems to like him and has gotten to know him more on a personal level at the station.
I can only hope this guy understands that if he ever hurts Beck, he’ll have Blake and me to deal with.
My phone vibrates on the bar counter. Blake glances at the screen, and a smirk instantly forms. I quickly walk over, snatching it from the counter.
Raina: Are you busy? And do you own an actual vehicle…or just your bike?
Me: Not exactly…I’m finishing up things at the bar...and yes, I do...my uncle’s truck. Why?
I watch as the three little dots appear and vanish, waiting for her reply.
Since the lake and the rooftop, I’ve only seen her once when she swung by one evening after work for a drink.
We’ve stayed in touch, checking in with each other regularly.
And maybe I’ve kept tabs on her in other ways—like driving past her work and apartment nearly every day to see if her SUV was there.
Raina: I need your help with something…could you drive your truck here? PLEASE.
Me: Is everything okay? That’s a random request…
Raina: Coming from the man of few words and answers…can you or can you not?...I mean, I’m sure Scottie is off work now…I could call him.
Me: Don’t fucking bribe me by mentioning dipshit’s name…
Raina: Well, did it work?
Me: I’ll run home real quick, then be there. Give me like 45 minutes.
Raina: THANK YOU
I slide my phone into my pocket, trying to figure out what she needs my help with and why I have to take my truck.
Maybe she wants me to move some furniture for her.
I rub my jaw in frustration, irritated that she chose to bring up Scottie’s name, fully aware of my thoughts about him.
She knows just how to push my buttons, and does it without hesitation.
God. Maybe that’s part of what draws me to her.
As much as I want to deny her requests to prove a point, I can’t ignore the selfish part of me that craves her proximity.
I’m aware she’ll never truly be mine, yet the thought of her drifting away stirs something within me that I can’t quite shake off.
I find Blake leaning against the counter, his posture relaxed yet intense, eyes sparkling with a mischievous gleam that betrays his dramatic amusement.
I feel the weight of his blue eyes on me, a mix of teasing and understanding.
I bite down hard on my tongue, savoring the taste of restraint as I prepare to respond, but before I can utter a single damn word, he raises his hand.
“No need to explain, brother,” he interrupts, a knowing grin stretching across his face.
“She’s got you good.” I can feel my heart rate quicken, and I shut my eyes briefly, trying to block out the reality of what he just said.
The truth hangs heavy in the air, and I know that no matter what excuse I might give in this moment, my actions tell a different story.
The evidence is written all over my face.
After all these years of masking my feelings, this one has been by far the hardest. I take a deep breath, desperately trying to compose myself, the urge to deny it all bubbling just beneath the surface.
But deep down, I realize that I’m not ready to confront this truth—not now, and maybe never.