Chapter 41
“What if he takes one sip of this and then spits it out or something?”
Eli stares at me, then down at the cup in my hand. When his eyes lift again, they’re lined with humour.
“I don’t think anyone would do that with an iced tea. Only sociopaths don’t like iced tea.”
I use a wet rag to clean the drops off the side of the cup. If I hand Beck a sticky cup, I may as well be acting once again like I don’t care about him. This has to go right. All of it.
“It’s not real iced tea. There’s like half the sugar content in here, and it tastes more like actual tea than anything else.”
“Okay, so you made it for him knowing he wouldn’t like it, then?”
“No. Of course not.”
He sighs. “You’re not making sense.”
“Sorry. I just need this to be perfect. I’m afraid it’s going to take me forever to find his perfect drink.
And then what? I watch him fall in love with a beautiful blonde with big, luscious tits and a natural love of baseball?
What if she likes spicy food as much as he does?
Fuck, this isn’t going to work.” I dump the drink into the sink and swipe the back of my hand across my forehead.
As the ice cubes clink together in the drain, I ask, “What do you think about a matcha latte?”
“Does he like matcha?”
“I’m not sure, but I know a recipe is around here somewhere—” I crouch beneath the blender and dig in the cupboard. “Yep! Here it is.”
Armed with my nan’s recipe book, I’m already feeling more confident. There isn’t a single drink in existence that she hadn’t tried making her own version of. This book is where I got all of the recipes on the Blank Page menu. It’s never led me astray.
“Okay. I’m starting with matcha. Do you think a latte or lemonade? Nan did both, but she put a note that the latte is better. Though she was really picky about how she’d drink hers.”
Eli hesitates for just long enough to draw my gaze. He blinks when he realizes I’m staring and quickly says, “Latte is probably a better starting point.”
“You’re right.”
So I get to work.
I’ve never been great with matcha, but I spend way more time than I should perfecting it right now.
My idea is tiny compared to everything he’s done for me.
It was the first one to come to mind when I decided that I was going to fight for him, though.
If he doesn’t take me back after this, then I’ll respect that decision, even if it kills me.
I just . . . I need to try. He deserves to have someone work for him the way he did for me. Every day that he came here and guzzled his least favourite substance in existence, he did it with a smile and the hope that it would warm me toward him.
It worked. Only it was who he is beyond his efforts here that won me. Now, it’s on me to return the favour and win him right back.
“What time does the game start?” I turn my head to Eli while pouring milk over ice.
He squishes a lid onto the takeaway cup in front of him. “Just after four.”
“Shit. I’m going to have to bring this to the stadium, then.”
Panic has me dumping the matcha in way too fast. I swallow my frustration.
“You can still get close enough for that?”
“I’ll figure it out. Don’t freak me out right now, or I’ll puke and dash.”
He chokes on a laugh and waves a hand in the air.
The ice cubes in the latte shake as my hand trembles around the cup.
Staring at the chunky mix of green and white, I almost wish I’d chosen the brown compostable cups rather than the clear ones.
At least I could hide the terrible job I’ve done that way.
“I’ll just wish you good luck, then.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I breathe out.
I set the cup on the counter before stripping off my apron and hanging it by the kitchen door. The lack of cover makes me feel even more exposed. It’s just preparation for later. What’s a bit of emotional nakedness if it means successfully getting my guy back?
“When Callie gets here, can you let her know that I should only be a couple hours?”
He nods as I pass behind him. “Yep.”
“Thank you. And tomorrow, we’ll chat about your hours. Promise.”
“What about them? You’re not dropping me to part-time—”
“No! No, nothing like that. I’m hoping it will be a good chat.” I face him from the opposite side of the counter and tuck the latte to my chest. “We’ve all been spending too much time here. It’s time to change that.”
His confusion is almost adorably obvious. If I weren’t in a rush, I’d just explain it all to him right now.
“Don’t forget to tell Callie,” I say instead, rushing from the café.
My heartbeat throbs in my throat as I get in my car and exchange the drink for my phone. The list I made in my Notes app labelled PITCHING 101 makes me feel ridiculous. Still, I scroll through for what I want to write today and make quick work of scribbling it on the side of the cup.
(BB): Pitcher can’t find the zone. The batter walked to first base after pitcher threw 4 pitches called balls. You hardly do this.
I ignore the nerves wreaking havoc on my insides and smile.
Fuck, I hope this works.
I’m instantly overwhelmed.
Even with Aubrey meeting me at Pretty Little Pour and driving me to the stadium, I feel like I’m out of place.
The security guard doesn’t so much as ask her for her name before stepping aside and letting us into the underground parking garage.
I bounce my legs in the passenger seat, gaze pinging around the parked cars, searching for Beck’s.
“Are you doing okay? I told Elle I wouldn’t ask, but it feels rude not to. You’re still our friend, even if you’re not dating Beck.” Her voice bangs around the quiet car, even with the softness of it.
“I will be. Maybe. I hope.”
She finds an empty stall behind a mint-green, doorless Jeep. Nerves tangle in my stomach.
“What’s your plan?”
I tap the plastic lid on the cup in the console and ignore the way the drink looks borderline undrinkable now, the colours mixed and a shade darker.
“He spent weeks coming to Blank Page and having me make him random drinks. Coffee especially. I think he thought that I would have been offended if he’d asked for anything else.
It was his way of trying to get me to loosen up with him.
Eventually, I realized he hated coffee and kept making him these terrible fucking drinks, hoping he’d eventually admit the truth.
He never did. Until a week ago, he probably would have accepted dirty sink water and still tried to pretend he enjoyed it. ”
Emotion burns my throat, then my nose and eyes. I push it away, forcing myself to continue talking.
Aubrey’s ultimately still a stranger to me.
We don’t know much about one another and have only hung out during that one baseball game.
Neither of those things has seemed to count for anything when it comes to wanting my guard up between us.
I still feel comfortable enough with her to puke my feelings all over the interior of her expensive car.
“I took him for granted. Beck is . . . he’s not only the best man I’ve ever known, but maybe even the best person.
He’s kind and thoughtful. There’s a seriousness in him that he hides behind flirty smiles and the winks that turn my knees weak.
I’ve never once felt anything but safe with him, and that scared me because I’ve never experienced that with anyone but my sister and grandmother.
I shouldn’t have let him go. From the minute I didn’t tell him I loved him back, I’ve known that I made a mistake.
This drink is a really, really lame attempt to try to replicate what he did for me back before I’d even acknowledge him. ”
Taking the cup, I bring it to my lap and frown at the melting ice and wrong colouring. My handwriting is still scrawled across the plastic, though. Not a single letter is smeared.
“He came out of nowhere,” I admit softly, feeling a tug in my chest.
“They always do. Trust me. Even when you think you know exactly who somebody is to you, they can still surprise you.”
“I don’t know if this is going to work.”
Aubrey’s hand brushes mine, offering support that I eagerly accept. I squeeze her fingers and inflate my lungs to max capacity.
“If there’s one thing I know for sure when it comes to the men in the Havoc clubhouse right now, it’s that they will do anything for the people they love. And Beck loves you, Quinn. You’re a part of the family now.”
“I’ve never had much luck with one of those.”
“Few of us have. That’s why we stick together. I’ll take a found family over the one I got given at birth any day.”
Instead of breaking down into tears, I toughen up and pull myself together. There’s a hint of a proud smile on her face when I turn in my seat and release her hand.
“Are you really not going in to watch the game tonight?”
She winks. “Nah. Trust me, real fun comes afterward. If they win.”
“I think you’ll be the only one of us here right now who’ll be doing that later. Tell me again where I’m going?”
“I already let Finn know you’re coming. He’s coming down to the parking garage entrance, and he’ll take it up for you.” She must pick up on the slow sinking of my shoulders because she adds, “Unless you want to bring it to him yourself?”
Instantly, I’m shaking my head. “No. This is better for right now.”
At least I won’t be able to see if he winds up spitting out his first sip. Or worse, tells Finn to throw it in the trash.
Her phone beeps from where she’s tucked it between her thighs. My entire body locks up when she reads the message that just arrived.
“He’s here. Up by that sign there.”
I follow the direction of the finger she points at the windshield and unbuckle my seat belt. “I’ll be right back.”
Before I can back out, I’m strolling through the parking lot. Finn notices me instantly, and I feel bad when I see him dressed in uniform. Images of Beck dressed similarly flood my mind, and my cheeks burn a deep red as the memory of his round ass in those tight pants takes over me.
“That for Beck?”
I cough, choking on nothing. “Y-yep. Can you make sure he tries it? Even just a sip.”
“It’s not poisoned?”
“No!” I yelp.
His eyes light up while he laughs. “I’m just kidding. Yeah, I’ll get him to try it, Quinn.”
I burn even hotter. “Great. Okay, yeah. I appreciate it. Really.”
“No worries.”
Awkwardness clogs the air between us, and I step backward. “I’ll go now. Thanks again.”
“Tell Aubs to drive safe for me. It’s supposed to rain pretty badly this afternoon.”
“I will.”
He looks past me to where Aubrey’s car sits, the engine running idle, bright headlights flashing against dark concrete walls. I ignore the sharp pang of jealousy in my chest and head toward the light, needing to get away from here before I start sobbing again.
Finn doesn’t say another word, but his eyes remain fixed on his girlfriend until I’m buckled in again and we’re leaving the way we came. It’s a stark reminder of why I decided to fight for Beck, and while a part of me wished I hadn’t been reminded of what I lost, I’m oddly grateful for it.