Page 89 of Rosie and the Beast Next Door

I shook my head to clear it and motioned for Bret and Gage to follow me inside. “I’m still trying to process this. How did you find my parents’ house?”

Bret pounded my shoulder affectionately as he passed me and set his bag down. “Location sharing.”

I groaned. “I completely forgot you had that.”

“For emergencies,” he said. “And this seemed like an emergency.”

Gage set his bag down too. “The apology was just well-timed icing on the cake.”

Bret turned to Gage. “I like to believe he sensed we were close, and that’s what inspired him to send the message.”

“Soul mates.” Gage held out his fist for knuckles.

I knocked his hand away and laughed, feeling truly happy. I’d missed these guys more than I’d realized. “It takes like twenty-four hours of travel to get here.”

“Yeah,” Bret said. “And we’re starving.”

Gage elbowed him in the gut, but Bret continued to stare shamelessly at me. “Did you know that there are no open food places in this town?”

“There is in the evening, or when a cruise ship is docked,” I told him. “Which won’t be until this afternoon.”

“You know the cruise schedule?” Gage asked.

“Everyone in Winterhaven knows the cruise schedule.” I raided the fridge for the leftover stew and lasagna from last night, as well as the remaining biscuits. “Plates are to the right of the sink.”

Gage pulled down three plates and bowls, and we piled them up with food to heat up in the microwave. While we waited for it to warm up, I got out the bowl of fruit for us to snack on.

“Save some for Rosie,” I said as they each washed their hands then took a handful of grapes.

“Rosie, huh.” Gage waggled his eyebrows. “Is she here too?”

“We saw your reel,” Bret said around a mouthful of fruit. “I didn’t realize your relationship was so serious.”

“It’s not. Yet,” I said. But I definitely had plans to make it so. I was becoming more and more convinced that a life without Rosie Forrester wasn’t one I wanted to contemplate.

“Pretty bold to confess your love online,” Gage said.

I let out a short laugh. “No, I didn’t.”

Gage pulled the lasagna out of the microwave and replaced it with the stew. “Dude. In the one you posted this morning, you straight up said you loved her.”

“You may need more sleep.” I chuckled.

They both leveled me with a look, and my chuckle stopped cold. “I didn’t say I loved her.” I tried to believe it, but I heard the panic in my own voice.

Bret held up his phone, and the video of me. I listened to my horrible voice and watched the almost-double chin as I swallowed thickly and said, “I promise you’ll fall in love. I know I did.”

“I meant with her artwork,” I said, and held my hand out like a choir director does to help singers find the beat. “They’d fall in love with her artwork.”

“Hm, kay. And the ‘I’m completely obsessed’ facial expression?” Bret took a huge bite of the lasagna. “Oh, hot, hot.” He fanned his open mouth, filled with food. What would all the women who idolized him think of this image? “But this is so good,” he moaned as he took another huge bite and went through the same fanning process.

“You’re going to burn your tongue so bad you can’t taste your food the rest of the trip,” Gage admonished him, but it all happened in the background of my spinning mind.

I’d accidentally confessed my love for Rosie. On a reel that was well on its way to going viral. Should I delete it before she saw it?

I didn’t deny the feelings, but I hadn’t planned on telling her anything yet. There were steps. I had to prove I’d changed. I had to convince her to stop loving that jackhole, Max. I had to make sure her store was in a good place before I gave her more to think about.

I rewatched my video on silent, paying attention to my expressions. Bret was right. I looked besotted and obsessed. I slumped against the counter. “I look very obviously in love with Rosie Forrester.”

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