Page 25 of Balancing Act (Soulmate #1)

“That’s how you build an empire, B,” Sarah’s voice added, as she joined them, taking the spot directly next to her and placing a hand on the small of Beth’s back. “You’ve got to always be on if you want to succeed. Sean knows that. That’s why he’s got such a thriving operation.”

Beth froze at the feeling of Sarah’s fingers lightly grazing her back. She shifted her weight, slightly, thankful when Sarah dropped her hand.

“Wow, look at that. We agree on something,” Sean glared, making no attempt to hide his mild disdain.

“Play nice, you two,” Beth added under her breath, while Sarah continued, pretending not to have heard Sean.

“We’re going to make our way over to the suite. I’m corralling everyone now. So, if you want to start heading that way, that would be great.”

Their group slowly made their way to the stadium, Beth trailing slightly behind them and Jamie standing beside her.

The morning had turned into early afternoon.

Gray clouds had rolled in, and Beth regretted not bringing a heavier jacket.

With the sun now behind the clouds, she was starting to get a little cold.

“You look like you’re freezing,” Jamie said, taking in the goose bumps that had risen on Beth’s forearms.

“I should have brought a jacket. That was dumb on my part. I’ll buy a hoodie when we get into the stadium.”

“No need for that,” Jamie countered quickly, tugging her sweatshirt over her head, her shirt creeping up enough and—oh God, those abs. Beth couldn’t help the involuntary way her eyes lingered on the exposed skin.

“Oh, no, really, I shouldn’t.” A nervous laugh left her as she gestured helplessly with her hands, her protest feeble and half-hearted.

“Too late.” Jamie handed over the sweatshirt with a playful flourish. “Besides, it’ll look better on you than it ever did on me.”

Beth accepted the sweatshirt, her fingers brushing Jamie’s, making her jump at the unexpected jolt.

Beth pulled Jamie’s sweatshirt over her head, and the scent of eucalyptus and spearmint enveloped her.

It was intoxicating, calming her in a way she hadn’t realized she needed.

She hugged the fabric closer, feeling as if she were wrapped in Jamie’s warmth and not just a borrowed piece of clothing.

Jamie smirked. “I was right. You pull it off much better than I did.”

Brown eyes searched hers for a moment before she spoke again.

“Are you doing okay today?” Jamie asked. “You seem a little—I don’t know—not like yourself.” She cocked her head to the side in question, and Beth hesitated. She should say something. Anything. But she couldn’t bring herself to admit how tangled up she felt.

“Yup,” she replied instantly. “Totally fine. Everything is great.” Her tone was off, her smile forced, and she knew Jamie wasn’t buying it.

Jamie studied her for a second longer, then nodded. “If you say so.” She shifted her weight as she pushed up her sleeves, revealing the tattoo of the snake wound around lavender that adorned her right forearm.

“Tell me about your tattoo?” she asked, desperate to change the subject to anything else but how she was feeling.

Jamie nodded slightly, understanding that whatever it was, Beth wasn’t ready to talk about it, and pivoted.

“Not much to tell. I got the lavender tattoo the day I turned eighteen. I wanted it sooner, but my dad wouldn’t consent for me.

It’s for my mom. She passed away from cancer when I was thirteen. She loved lavender.”

They continued their walk toward the stadium.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Beth said. “I didn’t realize...”

“There was no way you would have known. You don’t need to apologize.”

A moment of silence passed between them as they walked.

“What about the snake?” she asked softly, genuinely curious.

“I got that five years ago. I’ve always liked the symbolism of snakes. Rebirth, healing—all that stuff.” She shrugged. “Like I said, not that deep.”

Inside the stadium, the pair flashed the lanyards Sarah had given them to the security guard, who ushered them through, pointing the way toward the suite.

“Woah,” Jamie said, letting out a low whistle as they entered the suite, perched high above the vibrant hustle of the soccer stadium.

Beth wandered over to the window, which had panoramic views of the soccer field below.

The afternoon sun had come out and cast a golden hue through the expansive windows.

To the right, a large table was laid with food and beverages.

Beyond the windows were a few rows of leather stadium seats reserved for their group.

Lily waved them down to the row of seats she and Dylan had claimed. Beth and Jamie filed in, Lily insisting Jamie take the seat directly next to her, leaving Beth on her other side. The whistle blew, indicating the start of the match.

She tried to focus on the game playing out before her eyes.

Still, all she could think about was Jamie sitting beside her, the physical proximity slowly driving her crazy.

Every inhale she breathed in was pure Jamie—eucalyptus, spearmint, and something woody, like she remembered from their night in the gallery.

The warmth of Jamie’s sweatshirt was somehow comforting.

After a few key plays early in the game, Jamie and Lily jumped to their feet at various points, and Beth buzzed excitedly at the sensation of Jamie’s thigh brushing hers.

“I’m getting a snack,” Beth blurted out. “Anyone need anything?”

Lily shook her head no, eyes fixed on the field. Jamie turned her attention away from the game, and Beth could have sworn her eyes were sparkling, the way the tiny flecks of amber picked up the glistening afternoon sun.

“Can you grab me a hot dog, please? With mustard?”

“You got it.” Her tone was weird, even for her. She grimaced before turning and heading for the spread of food. This had been such a bad idea, coming here with Jamie.

She weaved around different groups of people who had joined the suite, now eating, drinking, and watching the game.

“Having fun?” A soft voice in her ear pulled her from her thoughts, causing her to jump.

Sarah placed a hand on her lower back, as she leaned in speaking softly in her ear, “I’m glad we’re doing this.

It’s fun to do things as a family again.

It’s been too long.” Beth felt her muscles tighten involuntarily as guilt welled up.

She shifted, avoiding Sarah’s gaze. “It’s good to see you out of your studio.

You never know what will inspire your next great painting.

What was it you used to say? That I always helped you find your inspiration?

” She bumped her hip against Beth’s as she reached for a bag of chips.

Beth blinked, caught off guard. She had forgotten that. Sarah had always had an uncanny knack for knowing what she needed to be inspired. It was a way of giving love that was uniquely Sarah, and that used to mean something to her. She felt the edge she had been carrying all day soften slightly.

“Yeah, you have always been good at that,” she admitted, but the guilt she had been feeling all day only intensified.

She caught Sarah’s hazel eyes, and for a moment that guilt slipped away as Sarah’s hand rubbed a small circle on her lower back. Her smile was the same suggestive one she had flashed Beth earlier, and God, could she be any more obvious?

“Don’t,” she hissed, shirking away from Sarah’s touch.

Beth turned away from the table laden with food only to find herself face-to-face with Lily, who had been standing behind them, unbeknownst to either herself or Sarah.

Lily’s eyes rapidly shifted between the two of them as if she were trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Beth held her breath as she watched Lily. Her piercing blue eyes finally settled square on Beth, but she couldn’t quite read the expression painted on her face.

“Hi, sweetie,” Sarah said warmly, turning toward her as well.

“I ended up wanting a snack, too,” Lily said simply, her eyes not leaving Beth, her voice devoid of emotion as she reached around her and swiped one of the pre-prepared veggie trays, eyeing the two of them once more before whipping around, heading back to their seats.

“Shit,” Beth said, her heart climbing higher in her chest as panic welled within her. What did Lily know, or think she knew? Guilt intertwined with panic as she inhaled and was met with that subtle scent of Jamie still lingering on the sweatshirt.

“Hmm?” Sarah said, her attention turned back to her plate.

“Lily,” she started. How did Sarah seem so unbothered by this mess? “Do you think she suspects anything is going on between us?”

“She’s fourteen, Beth. She’s got things like Snapchat, Taylor Swift, and gymnastics on her mind, not reading between the subtle signs that her moms are back together.”

She blinked. Surely she had misheard what Sarah has said, because it couldn’t have been those two words.

Back together.

Back together?

They had never talked about being back together.

They had barely discussed the few times they had slept together since she had returned to Seattle.

But to call that getting back together? That felt so big, much too big for Beth.

She didn’t even know if that’s what she wanted.

She hadn’t figured that out yet. She’d known falling back into their old habits wouldn’t end well.

It never ended well for her, and here she was, walking the same line again.

But why? Because it was easy? Because it was comfortable?

Sarah peered up from the plate on which she had meticulously arranged her food. Her eyes narrowed as they landed on the oversized sweatshirt, a flicker of something unreadable passing through her.

“That’s new, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice casual, but her hazel eyes lingered a moment too long. Beth swallowed hard.

“No. Uh, I got cold earlier, and Jamie let me borrow her sweatshirt.”

Sarah studied the borrowed sweatshirt, her expression unreadable. “You and Jamie seem to get along pretty well.”