Page 82 of Pitcher Perfect

“They’re not going to change the rules.”

The wrinkle in his brow deepened as he focused on cutting the bell pepper the way he’d watched on the YouTube video.

“Hey.” I waited until he looked up at me. “I’m sure it’s just some silly gimmick like a free gift for attendees or something.”

“Yeah, probably.” Austin didn’t sound convinced.

Something was off about him. Over the past couple of weeks, I’d been trying to gauge what he thought our chances were. He seemed eager to win but not really counting on it as a new brewery. He’d mentioned a few times that he hoped publicity from participating would help. So, if he wasn’t twisted up about how we would do in the competition, something else had to be on his mind.

I excused myself to visit the bathroom before dinner was ready. As I passed my bookcase, I noticed the Henry Hewitt cookbooks.I’m such a fucking idiot.While I relieved myself, I weighed the pros and cons of bringing up his dad’s connection to the event. If we were going to make a go of anything serious, and I hoped we would, then I needed to talk to him about the hard stuff.

I returned to my seat and watched him move around my kitchen for a moment.Do I want to risk puncturing our happy little bubble?I needed to if I wanted us to bereal, meaningful. “How are you feeling about it all? I mean, being in the competition that your dad won. Are you doing okay with it?”

Austin’s back straightened like a yardstick was taped to his spine.

“Sorry. You don’t have to talk about it.”I shouldn’t have brought it up.“I just thought… I don’t know. I guess, if you wanted to talk about it, I wanted you to know you could. With me.”

He stopped stirring, which wasn’t a great idea for the risotto, but I kept my mouth shut. Risotto be damned, Austin could take all the time he needed.

“It’s fucking with my head.”

I knew it was hard for him to talk about his dad, and that he trusted me with it meant so much. “How so?”

Austin kept his back to me as he worked at my stove. “I always blamed Portland Pairing for being the thing that took my parents away. Logically, I know it wasn’t, but everything changed after that. Shortly after, I was told my parents were moving to New York without me.” He shook his head. “I’ve spent half my life wanting to be nothing like him. Yet here I am trying to make a name for myself the same way he did.”

I was off my chair and moving toward him before he finished his thought. “You arenothinglike him. You have more goodness in your pinky than he could ever dream of having.” I hooked my arm around his waist and crowded him, melting when he tipped his head back and rested it on my shoulder. “You’re trying to make a name for your brewery that you built in your hometown with your best friends. You’re doing it for them and this town. You’renothinglike him—except for the eyes. I’m sorry, but you have the same eyes, and I refuse to ignore that. Is Paul Hollywood your uncle? Because damn.”

He laughed. “Thanks for saying all that. I want to believe your story.”

“It’s not a story. It’s the truth. You’re too close to it to see it clearly.”

He hummed. “I’m glad you’ll be there tomorrow. I feel stronger knowing you will be. You and the guys.”

My throat burned. “I’m glad I will be too.” I kissed the top of his head then grabbed napkins, silverware, and drinks for us.

“You know. Risotto is way easier than I expected it to be. I feel like you chefs make it sound way more intimidating so us peons are impressed.” He plated our food.

I laughed. “You got me.”

His gorgeous blue eyes sparkled. “You distracted me with talk about my dad. What did you mean earlier when you said we failed if it wasn’t about the competition?” Austin placed the plates in front of our chairs.

I looked down and carefully spread the napkin over my lap.Is this the moment? Do I tell him how I feel?It was clear we cared a lot about each other, but it seemed like we were both using our jobs and the competition as an excuse not to talk about it. I wanted to know before the competition that I would have a chance with Austin after, that once the event ended, we wouldn’t end with it.“I meant we failed at keeping things purely professional. Until after the competition, I mean.”There. I said it.I looked up at him.

He bit his bottom lip. “Yeah. We kind of did, didn’t we?”

I waited for him to give me more.

Austin scooped up a bite of risotto with sausage topping and slowly chewed.

“With the competition ending, maybe we can have that conversation soon?”

He smiled and nodded. “Let’s wait for the Portland Pairing dust to settle in a few days before I tell you how special you are.” His vibrant-blue eyes pierced me. “I certainly don’t want to distract you from cooking by telling you that I really like you. So, yeah, we should wait until the competition is done.”

It felt like my chest burst open like a GIF of rainbows shooting out of a unicorn’s ass. “Mm. Yes. Definitely don’t want to be distracted by that. I need to focus on cooking the best food I can instead of telling you that I really,reallylike you too.”

Austin hooked his foot around my ankle. We grinned at each other like fools.

“This is delicious, by the way. You can cook for me aaaany time you want.” I couldn’t remember the last time someone did so without me paying them for it.

---