Page 59 of Winning the Nightcap

Aiden:This isn’t a date, this is survival. You need to eat and I do too. It’s science.

Bec:I would normally prefer to play hard to get…but I’m starving.

Aiden:Good answer because I’m already here.

Bec:Creep much?

Aiden:You’re late for our date. Let’s go, Miller.

* * *

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, because those baseball uniforms are really out there doing the most, but you waiting in front of my apartment with food in hand may be the sexiest you’ve ever looked,” Bec says as she walks up to the entrance to her apartment building. I follow her inside and show her my most confident grin.

“I aim to please.” I lean down to whisper in her ear as we step onto the elevator. “Does this mean you’re googling me?” I can’t help but tease her. She looks cute red with embarrassment.

“Ugh, forget I said anything. I have loose lips when I’m hangry. Let’s get upstairs and eat before I stick my foot in my mouth again, please.”

“If you keep talking about your lips and your mouth, we might not make it to dinner.”

“Tempting, but not tempting enough to distract me from what’s in your hands. I need a shit ton of calories to forget about this shit show of a day. Preferably 50 percent of that comes from chocolate. What’s in the bag?” she asks while unlocking her door to let us into her apartment. She leads us into the kitchen, and I drop the bags onto the counter.

“Fettuccine alfredo and chocolate eclairs. Does that pass the Bec test?”

“God, you’re perfect. Thank you for this,” she says as she pulls out plates and utensils, placing them on the counter next to the food.

“Rough day?” I ask, unpacking the take-out containers.

“Yeah,” she says with a sigh, running her fingers through her hair and then leaning her palms on the countertop. “New Hope just lost a huge sponsor, so we’re scrambling a bit to find replacement funding. It’s not just the event. The entire organization’s operations will be impacted by this.”

“Oh wow, I’m sorry. That’s tough,” I say, crossing my arms and leaning my hip against the kitchen island.

“The staff are optimistic, or at least they’re acting that way. Maybe they’re trying to manifest the money with positive affirmations and all that. Or they’re too scared to admit the reality of the situation out loud. I don’t know…we’ll have to secure so many smaller donations to replace the one we lost. It’s going to eat up a lot of resourcesand we’re already running thin on coverage to manage the influx of animals. Sorry, I’m rambling.” She inhales deeply then lets out a heavy breath, her shoulders dramatically falling with her exhale. “It’ll be fine. We’ll just keep pushing forward. We’ll make it work.” I can hear the undercurrent of anxiety in every word she’s saying.

“How can I help?” I ask, leaning forward and tucking her hair behind her ear. She turns into my touch, closing her eyes for a few seconds before looking back at me.

“You’re sweet, you know that? Keep surprising me with pasta and chocolate, that’ll help more than you know.”

That’s not enough. Not even remotely enough. But I’ll let it go for now.

“Not a big fan of cooking?” I ask with a laugh.

“Not unless you want your food burned to a crisp or dangerously undercooked. I’m afraid there is no happy medium with me. You’ve been warned.”

“Noted. Takeout it is.”

“You seem to know your way around the kitchen, enough to make breakfast at least.”

“My mom loves to cook. Well, she used to. Evie has all of her old recipes. She always included us in some way. Some of my earliest memories are from cooking with her. My dad expected it, and I wanted to help her.”

“You don’t talk about him much,” she says cautiously.

“Yeah, I guess I try not to.”

I don’t know why I even mentioned my father. As usual, being around Bec causes me to drop any filters I usually use to keep any memory of him buried away.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry,” she says, stepping back, giving me space.

“No, really, it’s okay. Some people don’t deserve to stay in yourstory. The healthiest thing to do sometimes is to walk away like my mom did. It wasn’t easy, but she made it,” I say with conviction, stepping toward Bec, removing the space she put between us.

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