Page 15 of You Found Me
Bastian laughs a little before adding, “I think I saw a shot glass over there with a fiddle on it. I’m gonna go grab it for her.”
When he walks off, I turn back to Beckett. “You seem a lot happier these days. Everything’s good?”
“Yeah. It’s been weird not having you in town. But work is good, and I’ve actually been thinking of . . .”
He’s interrupted by Bastian rushing over, quietly saying, “We need to leave.”
“What? Why?” Beckett asks in confusion.
“Some guy recognized me. He’s clearly thrown back one too many beers because he asked me if I’d sign his left ass cheek. Even after I politely said no, he started unbuckling his belt and turned around. I hauled ass back over here to let you know I’ll be out in the truck.”
Beckett and I laugh as we watch him rush outside. “And people like to say that it’s women who are the crazy ones when it comes to athletes. I think drunk men take the cake.”
I nod, agreeing with B’s words, “Definitely. But what were you trying to say before he ran over?”
“Oh. Nothing important. Let me grab a shirt for myself, then we can head out.”
I stand there, confused for about half a second before I see some guy, who has to be in his early seventies, stumbling into people asking if they’d seen Sebastian Maxwell. I’m never letting Bastian live this down.
***
We’re almost done with brunch at Milk & Honey, when Bastian gets a call from one of the coaches for an impromptu team meeting.
“I’m not sure what’s going on. The last time they called a Saturday meeting, one of our third string offensive linemen got into some major legal trouble. I should be done in enough time to change and then head out to the restaurant.”
“No worries,” I tell him. “I’d like to head back anyway so I can wash my clothes and get everything together. That way I don’t have to worry about it tomorrow.”
“Alright, cool.” He hands us the keys to his truck. “I ordered a ride through one of those apps to come and get me after I got off the phone with Coach. It'll be here soon.”
Beckett shakes his head. “You didn’t need to do that. We could’ve easily done the same thing.”
He waves Beckett’s words off. “Too late. I’ll catch you guys later.”
Once we settle the bill, Beckett and I make the short drive back to Bastian’s place. When we get inside, I grab my things, throw them in the wash, and head to the other guest room where Beckett is with the laundry basket in tow. “Want to toss your stuff in with mine? I’ll be sure to take them out of the dryer as soon as they’re done and won’t let them get wrinkled.”
He laughs. “Yeah, sure. I need to make a call real quick, then I’ll help you clean up.”
“Sounds good.”
Once that's started, I decide to go through some work emails while I wait. As I begin responding to them, my mind shifts to Emmaline. I try to stop it, but ever since she came back into my life, she’s taken over my every waking thought. Sometimes she even sneaks her way into my dreams. Never anything inappropriate.
Well, I guess I should say never anything sexual. Because thinking of—let alone dreaming about—someone who is engaged, and only reconnected with recently, has to be considered inappropriate on some level.
Or insane.
Probably insane.
I’m brought out of my thoughts when Sebastian walks in. “I’m going to hop in the shower really quick before we head downtown.”
“Cool. I made the reservation for 6:45 p.m. so no rush.”
He looks around and asks, “Where’s B?”
“He’s been in the guest room for a while. Not too sure what he’s doing.”
“There’s no telling with that one,” he says with a small laugh. “I’ll let him know I’m back and will be ready to go in half an hour.”
***
