Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 117872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
I scan the block, peering around the steady trickle of evening crowds on the San Francisco street. There’s a coffee shop still open at the corner. Feels like a safe house. Must get there.
Gulping air, I wheel around and walk away from the bookstore, grabbing my phone from my pocket to text Jason.
Mister Anti-Social: I can’t go in there right now. Everyone will know. I’m going to the coffee shop. I’m sorry I ruined the night.
I walk up the block, knowing I’m the worst date ever. But thirty seconds later, I hear sneakers slapping the pavement behind me.
“Cafferty.”
The strong, confident voice should reassure me, but it doesn’t. He can’t cure me. I am the guy who couldn’t go through with a date.
Jason points to the café door. “Let’s go inside.”
On autopilot, I go in, nerves still thrumming. The shop is empty. Jason gestures to a quiet table in the corner, and we grab the chairs. Then he meets my eyes, and his are full of caring. “Are you freaking out?” he whispers gently.
I exhale hard, shakily. “Yes.” No point in lying. He can see it on me.
He reaches out and pats my knee—a bro gesture, but it settles me a bit. “Go to my house, okay? I’ll be there in an hour. Just watch TV, read a book, hang with the cat. I’m not going out with them after. I want to see you,” he says, so gentle, attentive. His voice is like a warm summer breeze.
I swallow past the stones in my throat. “You don’t have to skip the time with your friends. I’ll go home,” I say quietly.
“I want to, Beck.”
My pulse slows like a spinning top winding down. “What will you tell them?”
Jason’s grin says he’s got this. “Your landlady called. About something. Doesn’t matter what. No one’s gonna ask. You had to check on the house. You’re sorry you took off, and you asked me to have Hazel sign the book for you.”
God, I could kiss him. I have a million things I want to explain, but not as much as I want to get far, far away from these crowds.
“Can you do that?” he asks. “Wait for me at my home?”
I can’t believe he truly wants to put up with me. “You sure?”
“Positive. Now, I’m gonna text you a link for the garage door app I use. I’ll send you my login. Go. Chill with Taco. He likes you better, anyway. I’ll see you soon.”
I watch him walk away, feeling calmer. Feeling understood.
32
A HAT IS MORE THAN A HAT
Jason
Handling Beck’s regrets is easy. No one thinks twice about it. Shit happens, people cancel—it is what it is.
Only Hazel has a clue, but she gives good poker face at the signing table as I slide her a copy of Plays Well With Others. “It’s for Beck.”
She grabs a pink pen, signs with a flourish, then shows me the inscription. You make good choices.
I crack up, then give her a kiss on the cheek. “Love you, girl.” Tucking the book under my arm, I catch up with Carter and Nate in the thriller section.
“You want to grab a beer?” Carter asks.
“Nah. I need to take off.”
Nate gives me a curious look, one brow lifted. “That so?”
“Yeah, I have this thing known as practice tomorrow,” I say drily. “And a game this weekend I intend to win.”
“Thanks for the tip,” Nate sasses back.
“So we’re not getting a drink?” Carter asks, bummed and giving me the chance to change my mind.
“Sorry, guys,” I say. Then since there’s zero need to dwell on stuff I won’t get into, I change the subject with Carter. “But how’s everything with Zena?”
Carter’s eyes light up. “Dude! Thanks again. My agent worked that deal, and we are all good. You’re the man.”
“Excellent. Glad to hear,” I say, stealing a glance at the door, eager to go home.
“It would have been cool to share a sponsor with you. But you’ve got Seductive too, right?” Carter asks.
I shake my head. “They’re not one of mine. Must be thinking of some other gorgeous guy.”
Carter waves a hand dismissively. “I thought I saw a Seductive hat at your place on Halloween.”
My heart clenches. Our disguise hat. I’m so glad Beck isn’t here. He’d be a wreck, even though everyone leaves shit around at parties. “Nope, but maybe your mankini cut off the blood flow to your brain that night,” I say.
“As well as his balls,” Nate weighs in.
Laughing, we all leave together, and I’m glad I managed to keep our romance on the DL.
I want Beck to know he can trust me to take care of situations when he’s overwhelmed. That I’ve got his back.
Once Carter takes off for his car, I head for the side street where I parked, and Nate says, “I’m going to grab a Lyft.”