Page 32 of Home Brewed (The Perfect Cup #1)

Hazel

B eck wasn’t kidding when he said ‘shop till you drop’, because my arms are ready to fall off by the time we drive back up to his townhouse in the late afternoon.

I probably shouldn’t have dipped into my savings this much, but it was worth it.

Dumping the bags in the hallway along with my borrowed shoes and shedding the denim jacket Beck lent me when it got breezy, I drag my ass into the kitchen and sit on the cool marble counter, the stone providing soothing relief to my aching muscles.

“Okay, we may have overdone it with the shopping,” Beck laughs loudly, following me in with our bag of perishables.

He has two ciders in his hand from a local brewer and he pops the tops, handing me one.

I accept graciously and chug half of the ice-cold liquid before laying down across the island, letting my eyes drift shut.

The telltale sounds of Fish float by me as he tramples over to his bed in the kitchen, panting from the exertion of the day.

“We may have,” I agree. Beck parts my knees to stand between them, drawing soothing circles over my legs with the tips of his fingers, “We don’t have to do anything else today, right? Because I think I dropped my soul back there somewhere and I don’t think I can move. ”

“Well, I was going to say we should hit the gym, but I guess not.” My hand flails as I attempt to smack him with the back of it, trying to keep in my laughter. “You know prep day is going to be the same, long days on our feet, running around… we’re going to have to bribe the staff, aren’t we?”

“Probably,” I huff, “Back to the matter at hand, you’re the one who did this to me, now you need to fix it,”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I demand sweets and carbs, and potentially more foot rubs.”

“Well, I know how the foot rubs ended last time, so I can’t say no to that,” Beck waggles his eyebrows at me.

“Well, keep up the sass and no one’s getting lucky tonight, mister.”

“In that case, I’d better work on placing a dinner order. Wouldn’t want to put the rest of my plans at risk.” He winks.

“The rest of your plans?” My eyes fly open. If his plans are anything like last night’s I can confidently say I’m on board.

‘ Such a good fucking girl.’ The memory alone is enough to make me shiver in anticipation. Hopefully he thinks it’s due to the cold surface beneath me.

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” Beck says with a smirk before walking to the pantry.

He returns with a box of cookies while he browses his food delivery app.

I munch away, letting my brain just be empty.

It has been so long since I had enjoyed a day where I didn’t need to plan the entire damn thing.

I’m actually relaxed for once.

I look up at Beck, still standing between my legs, lazily tracing patterns on my hip with one hand while he scrolls with the other. A quiet peace settles over the room.

“How do we feel about pizza?” he asks, “Then we can get those cinnamon bites, too? Does that satisfy your cravings?” He looks over at me lovingly.

Nope, not lovingly, this is still new. He looks over at me likingly . Yup. That is totally a word. Because who falls in love with someone they met this quickly? Idiots. That's who. Beck is not even close to being an idiot. I am not an idiot .

“We could get cheesy bread, too?” he offers, and my heart bursts into flutters.

I might be an idiot.

“That’s perfect,” I say to the ceiling, not wanting to look him in the eye while I process everything that’s happening internally right now.

“Cool, should be here in thirty minutes!”

“And whatever shall we do until then?” I sit up to look at him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Hmmm, can’t think of anything,” he says, pulling my legs fully around his middle. He continues to run his hands over my legs, creeping ever so slowly towards my ass.

“I guess I can think of a few things.”

“Really?” Beck laughs menacingly, tangling his fist into my hair and covering me with his kisses and gripping my hips hard before stepping back and sinking to his knees.

“Oh, just you wait, sugar.”

I’m breathless by the time pizza arrives.

Beck kept me thoroughly occupied while we waited, kissing me and teasing me, exploring me with his hands and tongue.

Why is he so damn good at that? It’s like he’s found the combination of what makes my brain turn off and dissolve into putty in his hands.

I swear, I’m going to search his house and find a ‘Guide to Hazel’ book somewhere.

He tells me to wait in the kitchen while he pays the delivery driver, and I take the liberty of grabbing some plates and some glasses.

Once I’m done, I turn to find Beck leaning on the door frame, two boxes in his hands, appraising me.

One side of his mouth quirks up as he walks towards me and puts the boxes on the kitchen island next to my place settings.

“What?” I feel self-conscious under his gaze.

“Nothing, sugar,” he says, leaning in to kiss me. I dodge it expertly, giving him a look. He sighs, “I like seeing you make yourself at home here. Lets me imagine seeing you here more.” He sits on the stool next to me, very closely, might I add.

“I think we can make that happen,” I say, sneakily sliding the pizza box past him and snagging a slice.

Beck tries not to look too pleased with himself as he grabs his own slice.

We eat in a comfortable silence for a while, only the sound of our chewing and Fish’s panting from his bed in the corner occupy the cozy space.

“Can I ask you a potentially invasive question?” Beck pipes up suddenly. My curiosity piqued, I give him a non-committal noise, prompting him to continue, “Why didn’t you want to tell me what you wanted to do today?” I swallow hard, trying to think of the words to explain it.

“Well, I don’t know, I wanted to make sure we did things that we both wanted to do, I didn’t want you to feel forced into anything.” I pick off a slice of pepperoni, contemplating it before laying it back down on my plate and picking away another.

Beck doesn’t take my avoidance as a deterrent. “I wanted to do those things too, even if it’s not necessarily a standard day for me, I just wanted to spend time with you. That’s not forcing me to do anything, sugar.” I remain silent.

“Hazel, did something happen with Justin?” I flinch at his bluntness as it burns me, “I don’t mean to pry…

I have this feeling that there’s so much I don’t understand there.

I’ve noticed a few reactions, and I’m not judging at all, I just want to understand.

I really care about you, Hazel.” As hard as my heart is pounding with his admission, I feel a touch of nausea rise at the thought.

I take a cleansing breath before turning to him.

“Nothing really happened,” I begin, determined to look anywhere except at him, “I just found that when we did things I wanted to do, he would complain, or drag his feet, or just make me feel like I was inconveniencing him, you know?” Beck chews thoughtfully, giving me space to continue.

“Nothing bad ever happened, but even when we were in university, we would go to visit my friends and he was constantly asking when we were leaving, or he would complain about the music I was playing in my car—he wasn’t a Taylor Swift fan, that should have been a red flag right there.

” Beck laughs at my attempt at humour. “Or if what I was making for dinner wouldn’t suit his craving, he would get takeout, even if it was one of his favourite meals.

I could only watch my movies and shows when I was alone, which wasn’t often…

” I trail off. Putting everything back-to-back paints a much clearer picture, and I’m kicking myself for not seeing it sooner.

“I feel so stupid for letting it go on for that long. I should have seen the warning signs so much sooner.” The tally in my head grows of how much I catered to what he wanted, refusing to voice what I actually needed. “I really don’t have anyone to blame besides myself.” I hang my head in my hands.

Beck gently rubs circles on my back, “I don’t think it’s fair to call yourself stupid,” he says, “You were alone in the city, besides him and his friends, who were clearly shitty, right?” I nod. “It sounds like you did a lot to take care of him.”

I laugh, “Justin wouldn’t know how to take care of himself if everything in his life was automated.

I did the cleaning, cooking, took care of bills, grocery shopping, and errands.

You name it, I did it. He’s probably living with his mom now because he has no life skills to actually survive,” I scoff, only now realizing how bitter I really feel towards it all.

What step of grief is this, anger? I’m pretty sure I hit that when I destroyed my kitchen.

“Did you have family back home to go back to?” I shake my head.

“So, you relied on the one consistent relationship you had. That doesn’t make you stupid, that makes you a person who values the relationships she has, even if those people don’t value you as much as they should.

You tried to stick it out and remain loyal even when it became stifling. ” He guides me to look at him .

“Please promise me something,” he says, his hazel eyes drilling into mine with a fierce intensity.

“Promise me you’ll tell me the things you want to do, the things you like.

I love seeing more of you.” I raise my eyebrow.

“Not like that, troublemaker. I like getting to know you more. I want you to be able to feel open with me, the way I want to be open with you, too.” I lean into him, letting his presence envelope me.

“I want to be able to do that,” I whisper, staring a hole into my glass, “It’s just hard.”

“I know, and I will never expect perfection from you, but I care about you a lot, and when you care about someone, the things that are important to them should be important to you, too.”

Why do I feel like I’m going to cry again?

“I hope you know that the way he treated you was in no way okay. It makes me sad that someone was allowed to make you feel that way.” I shrug.

“That’s the thing, I don’t want you to be sad for me, you know?

My parents were worse, so I guess I didn’t have anything to compare it to.

” I’m careful with my words, knowing that even Justin doesn’t know the full story about them.

I’m pretty sure he never cared to. Beck’s concerns never wavered, only leaving me space to tell him what I wanted.

Only I’m not sure I want to continue. It’s not a story I’ve told anyone since leaving my hometown. I’m shocked that I ever told Nessa, but she has that effect on people, and alcohol was involved.

I sigh, trying to make up my mind whether to continue or change the topic.

Despite feeling safe with Beck, I’m still starting to feel panicked about what to say next, and how that will affect how he sees me.

We’re still in that stage where I’m bright and shiny to him, and I’m not sure I’m ready for him to see how tarnished I really am.

“Pretty girl.” Beck’s voice brings me back to the present.

“How about this; it’s been a busy day, why don’t we grab some ice cream, and I can drop you off at home?

You probably need a change of clothes, and I feel like I may have overwhelmed you the past two days.

” He’s so gentle with me. With anyone else, it would feel like being sent away.

This is the way Beck shows he cares, though, by looking out for what’s best for his people.

He’s right, too. It’s about time I quickly pop home, check on my plants, shower. He’s giving me an easy out and I’m emotionally exhausted enough to take it, no matter how badly I want to stay here. Maybe it’s Beck, or his dog, or the moments I’ve had here, but it’s somewhere that screams home.

I agree, gathering our dishes and placing them in the sink, then collecting the few items I brought over for myself.

The drive home feels much shorter, even though we stop to pick up a pint of ice cream each. I forgo my usual salted caramel for a fresh strawberries and cream while Beck gets buttered pecan, for which I mercilessly tease him until we arrive at my building.

“I’m just saying, it’s an old man flavour!” I argue, flapping my hands around the car.

“It’s not old, it’s a classic, there’s a difference,” Beck groans to the ceiling, although, he doesn’t seem mad. It’s fun to grind his gears a smidge. I cackle at his exasperation with me.

“That’s something old people say.” I pat his head patronizingly.

He whips around to glare at me and snatches my hand off of his head, making me squeal.

Using it to his advantage, he uses it to drag me towards him over the centre console, right in front of his face.

He regards me for a moment, then quickly pops a kiss on my nose.

“You know, you’re lucky you’re cute.” He winks. I shake my head, unbuckling my seatbelt, not moving away from him.

“I had a really nice time with you.” I lean in, gently kissing the corner of his mouth, savouring the way he melts into me.

As much as I respond to him, he does to me, and it instills me with a heady feeling of power.

His hand comes up to hold me to him, his thumb brushing my cheekbone, then pulling me closer.

He takes advantage of my gasp, slipping his tongue into my mouth.

I could kiss him forever. For the amount of muscles Beck sports, he’s so soft with me, so considerate.

And then he fucks me like I can’t break.

It’s a win-win in my books.

I manage to summon enough willpower to pull away, both of us still catching our breath.

“Goodnight, handsome.” I slowly open my door.

“Goodnight, sugar,” he says, staring at my ass as I leave.

A small giggle trills out of me as I make my way to my front door.

Only he could make staring at my ass not feel entirely creepy.

He waits until I’m inside the building before I hear him pull away, and I haul myself up the stairs to my unit.

As much as it’s been a wonderful day and a half, I’m wiped and truly looking forward to the new Epsom salts I picked up to soothe my aching muscles after last night, not to mention today.

For real, that felt like a workout and a half.

I pull out my keys, shivering at the memory of Beck bending me in half and possessing me like he never wanted to give me up.

My key jams in the door a little, which isn’t new, but when I shove it open, I notice some cracks in the doorframe.

That’s odd.

I walk into my entrance, toeing off my shoes and turning on the lights. Looking up, I stop dead in my tracks, choking on my shock.

I quickly pull out my phone with shaking hands and dial. It only takes one ring for the call to be answered.

“Hello?” asks the voice.

“Something’s wrong.”