I follow her line of sight, my stomach plunging as I take in the figure standing in the doorway, backlit by the late-afternoon sun.
Beau fucking Carter.
26
BEAU
“Areyou seeing what I’m seeing?”
Hawke grunts next to me, his attention locked in the same direction as mine, where Eloise stands across the coffee shop with another woman.
“It’s her,” he says, amusement bouncing around in his tone.
I take a breath, forcing my gaze away from the person who’s been living rent-free in my head for months now. It’s not easy.
The day had already been a mess. I took my Hellcat to Reapers’ Garage, hoping Jagger could give it a quick once-over. My sister’s boyfriend is one of the best mechanics around. But, naturally, Jagger decided today was the perfect day to play hooky, leaving me scrambling. Graham said the next race is tomorrow, which means I need the Hellcat tuned and ready now.
Enter Hawke.
He’s one of Jagger’s best friends and a Reaper through and through, but apparently, the guy knows his way around a car. He agreed to bump my Hellcat to the top of the list if I bought him a caramel macchiato and hung out while he worked. Easy enough, if a bit odd. Coffee dates with a Reaper mechanic weren’t on my to-do list today, but here we are.
Sure, he’s a little over the top and he’ll flirt with a fucking table if the mood strikes, but he’s not nearly as bad as I thought he’d be. Fuck it, I’ll drink a coffee with the guy if it means getting the Hellcat priority work.
Still, all that fades to the background when Eloise turns away from me. Her hand wraps around the other girl’s wrist, hissing something under her breath. Her hair swings forward, masking her expression. But I’d recognize that color anywhere.
Gone is the old-money blonde. Now, her hair’s the color of fresh, ripe peaches. My mouth quirks up in a grin, and my feet are moving before I give them permission.
“Oh hell yeah,” Hawke mumbles behind me, his voice low but gleeful.
“Peach,” I call out, two tables away. Let’s see her try to ignore me now.
She tilts her head toward the ceiling, like she’s praying for patience or something. I’m choosing not to take it personally. Nothing can get me down today. This little coffee run made my day.
I had this wild idea the other night, that since we kept organically running into each other, we should continue to do it. Like fate intended.
I made myself swallow every request to get her number at the block party, and even though I know I could text Jess and get it from the Gauntlet entry, I didn’t.
I feel a little vindicated seeing her in a coffee shop in Rosewood on a weekday morning.
“Fucking kismet,” I mutter, my grin growing too wide on my face.
The other girl elbows Eloise, whispering loudly, “Bro, there are two dudes just staring at you right now. Like, staring.”
“Margot,” Eloise hisses, not even glancing my way.
I close the gap between us, dropping my voice low. “Ah, c’mon, Peach. Don’t tell me you forgot about me already. I’d be happy to jog your memory if you need it.”
Margot gasps, her eyes going wide. Then she whirls on Eloise, smacking her arm with the back of her hand. “I knew it! You’ve been holding out on me!”
Eloise exhales sharply, her shoulders rising and falling in a heavy sigh before she finally turns to face me. Her expression is carefully neutral, but her eyes betray her—just a flicker of recognition, maybe even something softer.
“There she is,” I say, letting my gaze roam over her shamelessly. Peach hair, dark lashes framing those gold-honey eyes, and that mouth. God, that mouth. I look my fill and then some.
Will I ever stop feeling so goddamn greedy for her?
“Beau,” she says flatly, her voice sharp like she didn’t beg me to make her come two days ago.
“Well, isn’t this cozy,” Hawke says, sidling up next to me with a cocky grin.