Page 50 of Home Brewed (The Perfect Cup #1)

Hazel

P ulling out of Beck’s driveway is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Every centimetre further that I drive away, something uncomfortable wedges into my chest. I was so excited this morning at the prospect of something new, but now, going there alone, it itches under my skin.

In the short drive from Beck’s place to mine, I’ve managed to get swept up in a wave of discomfort. By the time I pull up to my new place, my lungs are constricted, and an overwhelming sense of wrongness has come over me.

The leasing agent is at the front door waiting for me when I get there. I put on my brave face and get out to meet her.

“Hi, Hazel! Welcome home,” she calls out brightly.

“Thanks, Heather,” I say, stepping into the foyer.

“Okay, here is your front door key, and this one is your suite key, this one is for your mailbox…” I tune her out as she runs through the standard points. I look around, hating everything I see.

The walls are a soft, off-white colour, nothing as warm and welcoming as Beck’s entrance.

The hallways are narrow, too narrow for him to carry me down them the way he does in his house.

We get to my suite, and I stand in the doorway, unable to enter.

Heather is walking around, chatting, and it takes a moment before she realizes I haven’t followed her.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” she asks. She has a very motherly way about her, and she’s looking at me with what seems to be real concern.

“I don’t know. I’ve been working towards this and… I don’t know.” I look around, and nothing is right. Nothing feels the way it’s supposed to feel. It doesn’t feel like home. It feels like running away from home.

“It’s always a huge step to move into your own place, especially after what you’ve been through.” We had talked a little about my situation when I first viewed the place. She didn’t have details, but she knows I’m moving due to a breakup. Sort of.

“That’s not it, I just. I don’t know!” I’m trying to contain my frustration. Everything feels wrong and it’s making my skin crawl. I have to get out of here.

“Maybe some plants to liven up the place? And we do allow pets, a lot of people find that having a dog around makes it easier…” Heather’s holding me in a side hug now, ushering me a little further into my new place.

I burst into tears.

“Oh no, honey.” Heather looks at me the way I feel, heartbroken. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I don’t know if I can live here,” I admit. That shocks her a little, but she quickly recovers.

“Well, these places get snapped up like hotcakes. If you really don’t want to move in… we can make something work. I can even get you your deposit back.” She sounds confident as she says it.

“Wait, really?” I’m shocked. Not many landlords are kind in this city. Everything is a transaction.

“Yes. No one should feel backed into a corner or trapped into a decision. You need to do what’s best for you, and I won’t penalize you for it.

” The tears are coming harder now. “Why don’t you take today to think about it?

I can touch base with you later about whether or not you want to stay. ” I nod silently, snatching up my bag.

Heather contemplates for a moment, then puts her arms around me in a hug. I squeeze her back tightly.

“Remember, as long as you’re doing what’s best for you, everything will be okay,” she says warmly.

Her hug feels like it’s putting me back together, giving me grace I’ve not felt in a long time.

“My daughter has gotten into some tough spots as well. Sometimes she just needs a little more time in her head to sort things out, but she always knows how to follow her heart. I have a feeling you’re the same. ”

“Thank you, thank you so much Heather,” I say, and I have never meant it more, briskly walking out of the apartment.

“You’re welcome sweetie, we’ll talk later!” she calls after me as I race to my car. I peel away from the curb like Satan himself is behind me.

Minutes later, I’m squealing up to Beck’s house, parking on the street, when I see two extra cars in the driveway. I’m still catching my breath when I throw myself out of the car, racing up the front steps and bursting in.

“Beck!” I shout, huffing and puffing from the exertion. Jesus, I need to go to the gym more.

Beck comes racing around the corner and stops dead in his tracks when he sees me, his mouth making an ‘o’ as he stares at me in surprise. Oh no, have I miscalculated?

Does he not want me here the way I want to be here?

“Hazel, what are you doing here?” he asks, slowly walking up to me, appraising me from head to toe.

“I don’t want to go,” I admit, my voice shaking, still catching my breath. His face softens and a small smile tweaks his mouth as he keeps coming closer until our chests are pressed against each other, holding me by my waist.

“Why don’t you want to go, sugar?” he asks like he knows the answer. That smug bastard .

“I don’t know, I couldn’t do it, I can’t leave, and I feel… about you… I just can’t leave. I need you, Beck.” I look at him helplessly, begging him to understand.

He reaches forward, cradling my face in my hands as his hazel eyes meet mine.

“I love you, Hazel,” he says it like it’s simple.

“Wait, what?”

“Hazel, I love you. I want you to stay, too.”

“How can you know that? It’s so new, you barely know me!” I don’t know why I’m fighting him on this. Hearing him put it in words makes it all so real.

“That bullshit is all about what other people think. What do YOU think Hazel? And more importantly, what do you want? You want me? Take me. I’m yours, for as long as you’ll have me.”

I’m at a loss for words. Every word lands on my soul like a bomb, blasting my walls to pieces and gently placing every loving word at my feet with reverence.

“I love you so much, Hazel. And I love you for so many reasons, I could spend my day listing them for you. I love your softness and shyness. And sweetness. I love how, no matter what, you’re so kind.”

“Beck—”

“And I know you’re kind because you care for everyone around you, even if they don’t treat you right, and that’s brave.

And I know you’re brave because you removed yourself from a situation where you weren’t being loved the way you should be.

That makes you strong. And because you’re strong, I know that you and I can make this work.

I know for a fact that you and I can be absolutely everything.

And that makes you mine. And I know you’re mine because I know you love me, too,” he says it with finality.

He says it like it’s an indisputable fact.

And it is.

I love him.

I can’t muster the words, so I launch myself into him, pressing my lips to his like I never want them to touch anything else. He groans as he holds me to him, deepening our kiss until I’m out of breath again, and so is he .

“Beck, I lo—”

“You don’t have to say it if you’re not ready, pretty girl.” He silences me with a kiss, like he’s doing me a favour, but that’s not good enough, for either of us. I place my hand gently over his mouth.

“Beck. Philip Beckett. I love you.”

“Fuck yeah you do!” I spring away from him when I hear the shout from upstairs.

Nessa is standing at the top of the stairs, watching wide eyed like she needs some popcorn to go with the show.

There’s a tan-skinned woman next to her with long, dark hair who I’ve never met before, and it takes me a minute to recognize her from her photos.

When I look behind Beck, Stella is peeking out at us from the kitchen.

“Thanks guys!” calls out Beck, making a face at me where they can’t see, and it has me giggling at the absurdity of it all.

I don’t care that we have an audience. I don’t care that I just admitted something that I never thought I would. I only care that I have him.