Page 17 of Betting Brett

It takes me a moment to catch my breath, to come back to reality. I reach for a tissue, cleaning myself up, a smile tugging at my lips. The memories of the cabin, of Brett, are still right there in my mind, but for now, I feel sated and content.

For now.

I pull my jeans back up, button them, and try to refocus on my work. But as the minutes tick by, my thoughts keep drifting back to Brett. And when the phone rings, displaying Brett's name on the screen, my heart skips a beat, hope and excitement bubbling up inside me.

Damn, are we already at the mind-reading stage of our relationship?

"Hey," I answer, trying to keep from sounding too giddy.

"Andy," Brett's greeting is tight, strained. "I need a favor. Can you pick up Izzy from Little League? Something came up at work, and I can't make it."

"Of course." I look at the clock on my desk. "I'll be there in fifteen."

"Thanks, man," Brett says, relief evident in his voice. "I owe you one."

I chuckle. "Just add it to the tab."

I hang up, grab my keys, and head out the door. As I drive to the Little League field, my mind races. What could've happened at work? Is Brett okay? I push the thoughts aside, I’m sure he will tell me when he’s able. I’ll just focus on Izzy and making sure she’s taken care of. I’m sure we’ll have a great night.

I pull into the parking lot at the field and quickly spot Izzy's curly hair bobbing around as she animatedly discusses something with her friends, her baseball glove slung over her shoulder. I wave, catching her attention. She smiles, running over to me.

"Hey, Uncle Andy," she greets, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug.

"Hey, kiddo," I reply, ruffling her hair. Izzy’s hugs were the best things ever. "Your dad sent me to pick you up. Are you ready to go?"

She nods, pulling away. "Yeah, we’re done, but where’s dad?”

"He’s busy at work," I tell her, leading her to the car. "He got held up with something, but he'll be home soon."

She nods, climbing into the back seat. "Does that mean we get to eat ice cream for dinner?"

“Nope,” I laugh, impressed at the way her mind works. “Not a chance. But I’ll make sure you get some for dessert.”

“Yay!” She claps her hands excitedly before she lowers the window and shouts bye to her friends.

I start the car, pulling out of the parking lot. Izzy and I make a quick stop at the supermarket and grab some chicken and pasta for dinner. Izzy picks out a bagged salad for veggies and tricks me into another carton of ice cream, even though I’m positive there’s one in their freezer at home. I get enough ingredients that there will be some for Brett, too, wanting him to have something to eat when he gets home.

The drive to Brett's house is quiet, the only sound is the hum of the engine and the soft murmur of the radio. I can't help but steal glances at Izzy in the rearview mirror, wondering what's going through her mind. I see more of Brett in her face, in the way her nose dips toward the end, and how her eyes seem to soak in every drop of sunlight around. Her smile, slightly crooked and charming, was also something she had inherited from her dad.

I hope everything’s ok with him.

I want to send him a text, but I’m not going to take the risk of distracting him from something important.

We pull into the driveway, and Izzy perks up with a sly smile. "Yay! Ice cream time.”

I laugh at her as she climbs out of the car. I gather the groceries and follow her, unlocking the front door with the hidden key and letting her inside. The house is quiet, warm and homey, if a little dusty.

Izzy heads to her room to change out of her Little League clothes and leaves me alone in the living room. I haul the food to the kitchen counter, then take a seat on the couch, giving my anxious mind a minute to breathe. What happened at the cabin changed everything, but not really. I can't help but wonder, where do we go from here? Picking up Izzy from Little League feels very much like something a romantic partner would do for someone, but Brett and I were still officiallyjustbest friends.

Izzy emerges from her room a few minutes later, her hair pulled into a messy bun and comfy clothes on. "I'm hungry," she declares, her stomach growling on cue.

I chuckle, standing up. "Well, we can't have that. How about I put together dinner?”

We head to the kitchen, and I start pulling out everything we need, having to open some extra cupboards and drawers since I wasn’t sure where Brett kept everything. Izzy hops onto a stool at the kitchen island, watching me intently. "Can I help?" she asks.

"Of course," I reply, handing her a bowl of eggs and a whisk. I bought the ingredients for spaghetti carbonara with chicken. “Can you mix these up for me?"

She nods with a serious expression as if I had just given her a task that would save the world, taking the bowl and whisking the eggs with determination. I smile, watching her. She's grown so much since my last visit before the move. I feel like a few more blinks, and I’ll be watching Izzy graduating college.

---