“Hey!” I shout out my open bedroom door as Beau moves down the hallway like a herd of elephants.
He pops his head into my bedroom. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I frown. “Are you?”
He sighs, tapping the butt of his fist against the doorjamb. Tension coils in his neck and I feel the frustration radiating off him. “Can’t find this new blocking glove. I thought I left it at The Honeycomb but…” He trails off, shaking his head. “Forget it. You coming to the game tonight?”
I shift my legs off my bed and stand, walking toward Beau. I want to talk to him; I want to tell him about Cole, the way I promised. “I’m working the game tonight,” I remind him.
A small smile tips his mouth upward. “That’s right. How’s it working out at Primrose? Sorry, things have been so busy, we haven’t caught up in a minute.”
“Primrose is good. And you’re right. Do you have a minute? There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
A frown mars Beau’s expression. He opens his mouth and his phone rings. Swearing, he pulls it out of his back pocket. Beau’s eyebrows knit together at the name of the caller. He shakes the phone at me. “I gotta take this, Bea. You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
He answers the call. “Hey, man. Give me one minute, yeah?” He nods at me to continue, his eyes serious, his hand clenched around his cell phone.
Does he expect me to pour out my soul in this moment? With a stranger listening in through his phone? A bead of frustration sits on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it back. Beau is clearly stressed—whether about tonight’s game, or something else, I have no clue—but I don’t want to burden my brother before he takes the ice.
“I’m fine,” I repeat. “Just, when you have some time, can we talk?”
Guilt radiates off Beau and I instantly feel worse. “Of course, Bea. After the game, yeah?”
I nod, forcing a smile to put him at ease. “Sure. Good luck tonight.”
“Thanks,” he says, shifting the phone closer to his ear. “What’s good, man?”
I watch Beau walk down the hallway and down the steps. I hear the screen door fling open, smacking against the house.
Sighing, I sit down on my bed and check my phone. I have a few hours before I need to be at The Honeycomb. I smile at Celine’s text.
Celine: Good night kiss?
Me: Better…
Celine. SHUT UP! Did y’all (okay emoji and eggplant emoji)
Laughter rolls up my throat and explodes into the silence of the house. Holy shit! I clutch my pillow to my chest, laughing so hard at Celine’s reaction. Somehow, even though Gran swears her hearing is going, she’s disturbed by my raucous laughter. A moment later, the thump of her broom handle hitting the ceiling below me rings out. It makes me laugh harder.
Me: I’m dead. Laughing so hard, Gran is hitting the ceiling with her broom.
Celine: Oh God! Haha! I miss Gran!
Me: You’re coming to her birthday bash in April…right???
Every year, Gran has a big blowout for her birthday. This year, she’s turning ninety, and friends and family around the country are flying in to surprise her. This year’s theme is a Hawaiian Luau.
Me: Even Blake and Brody are flying in.
Celine: And Beau will be there.
I sigh when she points out the obvious. Of course Beau will be here now that he’s back from serving in the Marines. Celine and Beau haven’t seen each other since Beau enlisted, but that doesn’t mean they can avoid each other forever.
Before I tap out a reply, she messages again.
Celine: Of course I’ll be there. I won’t ever miss Gran’s celebration. It’s just weird, knowing Beau and I will see each other, after all these years.
Me: True. But it has to happen eventually.
Celine: I know. Now, tell me about the good night kiss…(three fire emoji)
I grin, pressing my fingers against my lips as I recall the smoking hot kiss Cole gave me in his driveway. And then, the other one he left me with at the end of Gran’s driveway. After I retrieved my car from his house, he insisted on following me home since it was so late.
Secretly, I love how thoughtful he is. Also secretly, I think he only did it to kiss me again. But who am I to complain?
Me: It was the hottest good night kiss of my life.
Celine: Get it, B! When do you see him again?
Me: Tonight. Drinks after the game.
Celine: Team going?
Me: Yes…
Celine: Tell your brother! He hates being caught off guard.
Me: Trying to…keeps blowing me off.
Celine: He loves you, B. He just gets lost in his head sometimes.
Me: I know. I’ll keep you posted.
Celine: Big kiss. See you next month.
Me: Can’t wait (heart emoji)
Tossing down my phone, I lay back on my bed and close my eyes. Even after all these years, and all the hurt between them, Celine won’t utter a bad word, a negative comment, even when it’s the truth, about Beau. Deep down, she still cares. And by his total avoidance of anything that has to do with her, even her name, I know he does too.
Clearly, April’s birthday bash is going to be a shitshow. But, with all my brothers home, that’s a given.
Wait. I sit up, my eyes flying open. Will Cole want to come? Should he come? I mean, if we’re dating, I’d invite my boyfriend to Gran’s party, wouldn’t I?
Will Cole be my boyfriend? Are we going to go the traditional, labels and titles, route? He does seem like a traditional guy…
But not traditional the same way Jay is. Jay is more gender-role, man of the house, what I say goes, traditional. Cole seems more caring and nurturing, like he wants to protect and respect me more than anything else.
Sigh. I settle back against my pillows. Everything with Cole moved at warp speed and yet, not. Because the time we spend together, we’re talking. We’re sharing and confiding and giving pieces of ourselves to each other for safekeeping.
There’s a trust between us that’s never developed between me and a member of the opposite sex, not counting my brothers, so quickly before. When I’m with Cole, I’m not worried about a potential fallout. I’m not scared something I say will be used against me or that I’ll always be held to those words, for the rest of my life, the way I was with Jay. I’m free to be who I am in the moment, and he respects me for it.
I like the woman I’m becoming. I worked hard to sculpt her into existence during my time in Nashville. I found pieces of her through pottery, but the more significant parts, I discovered through my conversations, my exposure, to others. Students, artists, creatives, entrepreneurs.
In Nashville, I felt like I was blossoming into my truest self. When I returned home, back to my childhood bedroom, Beau’s meddling and finding me a job, my old friends uninterested in doing anything other than smoking up, and Jay, still sitting on the porch, waiting for me, panic clawed at my throat. Will I lose everything I gained? Will I abandon the purpose I was discovering?
But then, I found Cole. And he reminded me that I can do both, that I can have it all. I just have to chase it, be open to it. I have an interview with Mel from the Art Attic this week. While the cupcake gig is a great option and I’d hang onto it for now, especially knowing Beau pulled strings to make it happen, there’s no reason I can’t teach pottery a few mornings or nights each week.
I love that Cole introduced me to the Art Attic. I love that he understands how important pottery is to me and is excited for my interview with Mel.
I trace my lips again, recalling that searing kiss that held so much promise. So much want and need and trust. Cole Philips is nothing like I expected when I moved home, but he’s more than what I need. He’s exactly what I want.
Pulling myself from bed, I ready for tonight’s game. It feels different, going to The Honeycomb tonight. I’m not just going to sell cupcakes or cheer on Beau. Tonight, I’m also cheering for the man I want to call mine. And I hope, by the end of the night, that’s exactly who he’ll be.
My boyfriend, Cole. The Rookie.
“These are the best cupcakes ever!” A pre-teen girl grins at me, her braces flashing.
I smile back, loving her enthusiasm. “Try the apple strudel.”
Her expression wavers.
Laughing, I pass her one. “I know, it sounds old-fashioned. But trust me, sometimes, the best things are the traditional ones.”
Her mom gives me a thankful look as the girl bites into the cupcake. “Oh my God! This is incredible.”
Her mom laughs. “Can I get four more of those?”
“Sure.” I box the cupcakes and ring up their order.
They’re the last customers in line from intermission and once they leave, I heave out a sigh of relief. I plop down on the barstool, catching my breath. The last thirty minutes have been crazy intense. Primrose Sweets pop-up was slammed with customers.
Buzzing with adrenaline, I can’t believe I pulled it off. Now, glancing at the remaining six cupcakes, I realize what an incredible enterprise this concept is for Noelle and Scott. We’re going to sell out.
“You’re doing awesome, Bea,” Noelle says, appearing in my peripheral vision.
I turn toward her, my mouth dropping open. “I had no idea you were here.”
She laughs, leaning her hip against the ledge. “I flew in from Boston this afternoon to check in. I wanted to see you in action.”
My face heats and I know my cheeks are bright red, matching my hair.
“You are flawless,” Noelle reassures me. She enters the stand and pulls out two cupcakes, passing me one. “Great job tonight.” She bumps her cupcake against mine. “And I’ve heard all positive things from everyone I talked to about your performance over the last month.” She takes a huge bite of her cupcake while I watch her in awe. “It was awesome that you were able to start and run the stand during the hockey clinic.”
Is she serious? People…noticed me? Think I’m doing a good job?
“Eat the cupcake,” Noelle advises.
I shake myself out of it and take a bite, closing my eyes as the gooey chocolate fills my mouth. God, it’s a masterpiece.
“I’m opening a few more pop-ups this year, mostly at arenas in the South.”
My eyes open as I stare at Noelle. My mouth is filled with chocolate cupcake and I’m glad. Right now, I’d rather hear her out then comment.
“If you’re looking for a more permanent position, I’ll be filling a regional manager role soon. You can toss your name into the hat.”
Wow. The fact that Noelle would consider me for such a position after a month fills me with pride. I may have gotten this gig because of Beau, but Noelle’s consideration for a higher position is clearly rooted in my performance.
I swallow my cupcake. “Thank you, Noelle. Truly.” I dip my head.
“But you still want to do your own thing.”
I look up. “It’s not that I’m not grateful,” I rush to explain. “I just don’t want to give up on my daydream.”
“You shouldn’t,” she says, surprising me. “But, if you’re serious about it, what’s your plan?”
“My plan?”
“Yeah.” She pours herself a cup of coffee. When she gestures to me, I shake my head. If I have coffee now, I’ll be wired tonight at Corks. “How are you going to make your dream a reality?”
“I have an interview this week at the Art Attic,” I admit. “It’s for a teaching position for a pottery course. The class will be a few mornings a week, nothing that will interfere with my commitment here.”
Noelle laughs, the sound musical. Her blonde ringlets bounce. “Relax, Bea. Primrose is my baby. I know it’s not for everyone. A woman your age, with your talent, well, I’d be disappointed if you didn’t want to take a shot at your dream. Tell me about the Art Attic.”
I do. As Noelle and I clean and close down the pop-up shop, I tell her about pottery. I confide how much I love making vases, quirky pieces that tell a story. I tell her about the showcase I participated in in Nashville.
She listens attentively and asks a few questions. As we walk toward the rink, moving through a door that leads to boxed seats, my breath lodges in my throat.
Out on the ice, Cole blocks Miami’s center, gaining control of the puck and flipping it to River Patton. My words die in my throat as I get caught up in the play.
Excitement hums through the arena. Fans are on their feet. River moves like flowing water, too fluid to catch. When he takes a shot, the puck soars into the top left-hand corner of the net and the crowd goes wild.
Scott Reland claps appreciatively. “Clean goal,” he comments to someone. “But Philips, the rookie? He’s got a future ahead of him.”
Pride fills my chest that Scott Reland, owner of a powerhouse team, complimented Cole.
Next to me, Noelle bumps my shoulder. Turning toward her, I blush when I realize I stopped talking mid-sentence.
Amusement lines her face and she chuckles. “Whatever you do, Bea, don’t give up your daydream for anyone.” Her eyes cut back to the ice knowingly. I’m not sure if her gaze zeroes in on my brother or Cole but either way, her meaning is clear. I shouldn’t let anyone hold me back from pursuing my passion.
Didn’t Cole say the same thing?
I clear my throat. “Thanks, Noelle.”
“When you set up shop, I’d love a vase.”
I laugh. “Absolutely.”