Page 36 of Winning the Nightcap

My stomach is in my throat as I stand in front of Bec’s apartment. Thankfully, driving back to Columbus with Mom and helping her get settled in the new facility kept me busy enough that I haven’t had a moment for my nerves to catch up with me. Unfortunately, it’s all hitting me now.

Fuck, Aiden, get it together.

I knock and immediately hear Hopper’s frenzied bark. Probably should have warned Bec that Hopper isn’t doing well at greeting people without jumping all over them. I’m sure she figured that out quickly.

All of a sudden, there’s silence. Not a sound from inside her apartment. For a moment, I’m concerned, wondering what happened, but then Bec opens the door and Hopper is sitting calmly behind her.What the fuck?

Of course, that immediately changes once he realizes I’m at the door and he barrels into me nearly knocking me down. His large paws are on my chest, almost sending the pizza I’m holding flying back across the hallway.

“Can I get an assist,” I call out, reaching over Hop to hand the pizza to Bec. She laughs, shaking her head, and takes the box intothe kitchen. After giving Hopper the attention he deserves—god, I’ve missed this dog—I close the door behind me and follow him into Bec’s apartment. He already seems as comfortable here as he does at my place. Hopper runs and jumps onto Bec’s couch before lying down and dangling his long legs over the edge of the cushion, panting and watching Bec move with ease around the kitchen, grabbing plates and napkins.

“I thought I had him there for a minute. It took a few tries, but he’s getting better at sitting for greetings. That is, untilyoushowed up. He didn’t jump on any of the girls last night.” Bec gestures to the stool on the other side of her kitchen island. “Grab a seat, and I’ll grab us drinks.” She turns back to the fridge as I take a seat. I’m so caught up staring at her ass that I miss her question.

“Uh, what was that?” I look up at her face as she turns to look over her shoulder. Busted.

She blushes, smiles, and quickly turns away again. “What would you like? Beer, wine, pop, water…”

“Water would be great, thanks.”

“Thanks for bringing this over. I’m starving.” She hands me a drink and a plate while taking a seat on the stool next to me.

“I went with a tried and true, four cheese. Hope that’s okay.”

“Antonio’s can do no wrong. I’ve never met a pizza of theirs that I wouldn’t devour.” The moan she lets out after her first bite is way more appealing than should be possible, and I have to turn away as she licks her fingers clean.

What the fuck is wrong with me, drooling over the way she eats pizza?

“I’ll keep that in mind. They’re a favorite of mine too.” I take a look around her living room quickly, making sure Hop hasn’t gotten into anything before taking a slice for myself. “So, what’s the damage? Did Hopper help himself to any more of your…things while I was gone?”

“Ugh, I’m never going to live that down. No, other than destroyingmy self-help assistant, Hopper was a perfect gentleman. We hit the dog park, went on a few walks, and he kept me and the girls company last night during book club. We’ve decided he’s an honorary member and is welcome back anytime. You may have to play him the audiobooks so he knows what we’re talking about. Think you can handle that?”

“Are they the same type of books that I heard in your car?” Bec smirks and nods, and I groan. “He’s going to have so many questions that I’m not prepared to answer. Never pictured having to givethe talkthis early as a father.”

She laughs rich and deep, and I can’t stop staring. The way her hair falls off her shoulder as she tilts her head up to the ceiling, eyes squeezed shut, smile beaming. A sexy laugh is my kryptonite, and Bec is going to be the end of me.

Is it sexy because it’s sexy, or is it sexy because it’s her? I don’t know and I don’t care.

Bec tells me all about her time with Hopper and shows me a few pictures she took at the dog park of him and his new best friend, Blue, a small Yorkshire Terrier weighing in at about ten pounds with 100 percent more attitude.

We finish our food and Bec offers me another drink. Since she grabs a beer for herself, I join her in having one too. We move to her couch, Hopper between us, soaking up the attention. Every once in a while, our hands touch, grazing one another as we both reach to pet Hop’s back. I’d say he’s spoiled, but whatever. Dogs deserve to be spoiled.

“So…how about you? Did you have a nice weekend?” Bec asks me, sounding a little apprehensive, which I understand. I haven’t offered any details about why I had to leave unexpectedly.

I’d planned to tell Bec about my mom’s condition eventually, but it’s difficult for me to talk about. I can feel my stomach tying itself into knots. The familiar haze of guilt and frustration at my ownhelplessness threatens to drown me. I pet Hop softly, and when I catch Bec’s uncertain glance in my direction, I know I want to share this with her. I want her to know me. I want her to understand. I breathe out a heavy sigh and relax my shoulders back onto her couch.

“Well, it went about as well as I could have hoped for. My mom…she was still living back in Detroit. My sister and I decided that it was time for her to move here with us. It became the best option after the staff at her assisted living facility recommended that she get more specialized help. She has early onset Alzheimer’s disease. They said she’d be safer in a facility that provides memory care services, and a room became available for her here. My sister found a really nice place that can offer the type of care she needs, so we jumped on the opportunity. I picked Mom and her things up, and we moved her into her new place. Evie and I spent the day helping her get settled.” I avoid looking at Bec. I don’t want to see the surprise, the sympathy, and worst of all, the pity.

I’m surprised by her silence. After a pause, she reaches over, covering my hand that’s resting on Hopper’s back. I feel her grip my hand in what I imagine is a show of support and meant to bring comfort. It does. When I finally bring myself to look at her, her gaze is thoughtful.

“What can I do? Do you want to rest for a little while and then go back to see her? I can watch Hopper as long as you need.”

Her first instinct is to take care of me? My heart pounds tight in my chest at the thought, but I shake my head.

“Evie is still with her. She’s going to stay as late as she can tonight, and I’ll go back tomorrow morning first thing. We were told to expect a few challenges with this type of transition, so Evie and I want to be around as much as we can.”

“And you? How are you feeling now that the move is over?” she asks gently.

I let out a deep breath, surprised at how this conversation feels easier than the other times I’ve had to talk about it. Maybe it gets easier each time I talk about it, or maybe it’s the way Bec is looking at me. With a softness that doesn’t make me feel the weight and burden of what Ishouldbe saying. What agoodson says in this type of situation. Instead, I can tell her what I’m honestly feeling.

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