Page 24

SEVENTEEN

Beck

I wiped the sweat off my forehead and tossed the small towel onto the incline bench, stretching out my chest and triceps before I did another set of chest presses and weighted dips.

Music was blasting so loudly through my home gym—Eminem when I was maxing out, Jelly Roll when I was starting a new exercise, and Post Malone when I was walking out the pain—that there was no way I’d hear my phone ring or any texts come through.

Normally, while I was working out, I gave no fucks about anyone getting in touch with me, nor did I even bring my phone in here.

But since Jolie had left this morning, I’d been waiting for her to get back to me about when we could get together. And considering it was one of my final days off, it should have been flying by. Freedom always moved quickly.

Not today.

Her silence had caused the hours to fucking drag.

A silence I found odd, along with the way she’d left this morning—before the sun even rose—considering we’d had such a good time last night.

At least, I thought we had.

It had been her idea not to use a condom and my idea to give her a total of six orgasms that spanned across the whole evening.

I wanted to do it again tonight.

But, goddamn it, she hadn’t said a word to me since I’d texted her when I woke up, realizing she was gone.

She was in LA. We’d reconnected after all these years. I just wanted to see her, and she was giving me nothing.

I checked the time on my phone. It was a little past four.

I mentally calculated how long the rest of this workout would take, along with a soak in the cold plunge, followed by a warm-up in the sauna, and began to type her a message.

Me

I’m going to head to Charred around six for a drink. You should meet me there, or I can pick you up at your hotel—whatever works best.

Jolie

Can I let you know?

Me

Of course.

Jolie

If I get out at a decent time, I’ll swing by.

Me

And if you don’t?

Jolie

A sad face? Meaning I wouldn’t get to see her at all?

What the fuck?

I picked up the towel off the bench, and before I could even bring it to my face, I balled it up and threw it across the room.

I held my glass of bourbon between both hands, turning the tumbler in a circle over the top of the bar, bouncing the large block of ice with my finger. “Talk to me about Horned,” I said to my sister as she sat next to me.

The whole side of the bar was blocked off for my family, so none of our diners were within earshot. That had been a surprising find when I walked into Charred, expecting to be the only Weston here, aside from Walker, who was working in the kitchen.

“Are the reservations still exploding?”

Horned was a restaurant we’d recently acquired, the Laguna Beach steak house now part of our collection, which we were currently expanding to three new locations—Portsmouth, New Hampshire, Charleston, South Carolina, and, as of a week ago, San Antonio, Texas.

Land had been purchased. Build-outs were in motion.

“And the same with Toro?” I asked. “The social media hype for both spots hasn’t died down, has it?”

Eden sent reservation numbers every Friday, but I hadn’t looked at them at any point last night or today.

Time wasn’t the issue.

It was that my head just wasn’t in it.

My sister, already facing me, put her hand on my forehead as though she were checking my temperature. “It’s Saturday night, Beck. We’re a bourbon deep. And you want to talk about work? Now?” She pulled her hand away, but her stare didn’t lighten at all.

“He doesn’t want to talk about work,” Walker said from behind the bar as he stood in front of us. “He’s fucked up over something and trying to get his mind off it.” He nodded toward me. “Look at him.”

I didn’t know if Walker was out of the kitchen for the rest of the night or if he was just taking a break, but his sleeves were rolled up, his chef’s whites were unbuttoned at the top, and there was a drink in his hand that he was sipping from.

“Let the dude breathe for a second.” Hart’s arm briefly brushed mine while he lifted his old-fashioned. “He starts a whole new season of hockey in a couple of days. He’s inside his head, and that’s where he should be. That’s why he’s being quiet.”

I stared at each of my siblings. “I’m not a fly on the wall, you know. I’m sitting right here.”

“And you’re acting weird as hell,” Eden offered.

Where was all this coming from?

“First of all,” I started, “I’ve been here for five minutes. I don’t think I’ve been quiet at all?—”

“You’ve been quiet,” Eden countered.

I glanced from her to Walker and said, “And what’s wrong with the way I look?

” I glanced down the front of me, rather pleased with my outfit.

The shirt had been sent over, along with about fifty others, from a brand deal my agent had recently signed me up for.

The jeans had been supplied by my assistant, who had probably worked with a stylist.

“Did you just finish working out?” my oldest brother asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “We know you like late workouts when you’re in offseason.”

I pulled the bottom of my button-down to straighten out my shirt. “Yeah.” I then moved to the collar, making sure it was sitting right. “I’m not even going to ask why that’s a detail you remember.”

“After your workouts, especially when you’re getting ready for the season, you usually wear a pair of sweats and a hoodie.” Hart had his elbow on the bar, his body turned so he was looking at the front of me. “Tonight, you’re dressed up.”

I smiled wide without showing any teeth, my brows furrowed. “I’m in jeans.”

“But you’re in clothes—and not some variation of workout clothes,” Hart said.

I shook my head. “I’m at our restaurant. I should look nice.”

“That’s never stopped you from looking like hell before,” Eden voiced, running her finger around the rim of her glass. “In fact, last time you were here, you were in a hoodie and sweats, and the hood was actually over your head and?—”

“Jesus,” I groaned. “You all need to fucking relax. I don’t know why you’re all over me, but stop.” I shot back the second drink and set the empty on the bar top. “Fill it up,” I said to Walker, pushing the glass toward him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Eden asked softly.

Soft was reserved for special occasions; she normally stayed in hard mode.

I focused my attention on her, studying her face. She was doing the same thing to me, but her stare was far more intense, like I was some fucking assignment and she was about to write a hundred-page paper on me.

“Are you giving me any other choice?”

“No,” Walker replied. “I think you know the three of us are going to dig like hell until you cave.”

I tapped my hand on the wooden top, restless since there was no drink to hold.

I knew the second I opened up about this, they would hit me with endless questions, and I had no answers. To save myself the aggravation, I hadn’t planned on saying anything unless Jolie showed up.

Then I would be forced to explain who she was.

But my silence had lasted all of, what, seven minutes before I found myself here?

“Last night …” I let out a loud breath. “Guess who I ran into.”

“I’m going to assume it was a woman.” Eden waited to see if I reacted, which I didn’t, and then added, “I don’t have enough fingers to list all the ladies I think it could be.” She smiled.

I rolled my eyes until they closed, my head slightly shaking. “I ran into Jolie.”

Walker clasped his hand on mine. “The chick from Boston?”

I nodded.

“She’s in LA?” Eden asked.

“She was at Musik last night,” I told them.

“Did you know she was going to be there?” Hart asked.

Just like I thought—a verbal firing squad.

I stretched my arms up, my palms cupping the back of my head. “I ran into her randomly and couldn’t fucking believe my eyes. Never had I thought she’d be there, and I’m sure she thought the same about me.”

Eden held her drink close to her lips. “Did you tell her about Africa?”

“I did.”

“Did she give you shit for not reaching out to her once you realized the text hadn’t gone through?” Hart asked.

Although the stool didn’t have any give, I rocked over the seat, the amount of questions nearing an overwhelming stage. “She gave me a little shit, but I deserved a lot more. I should have reached out to her after the Boston game. I don’t know why the hell I didn’t.”

“So, that led to her going home with you … I assume?” Eden took a long drink and set the glass down.

I laughed. “Solid assumption.”

“Ugh. I wish you guys led with your brains and not that thing between your legs.”

Still chuckling, I said, “What does that mean?”

“You haven’t seen her in two-plus years. You fucked up. So, why not make it right and ask her out on a date? Why not spend time together that doesn’t involve getting naked?” She waved the air. “Anyway, keep going.”

Did Eden have a point?

Was that what Jolie was looking for?

But it had hardly taken any convincing for her to come to my place.

My arms dropped, and I gripped the edge of the bar. “She took off at around five this morning. She didn’t even wake me up, she just left. I don’t know how long she’s going to be here for. And when I asked her to come here tonight, she told me she’d let me know.”

“Holy fuck,” Hart groaned. “I wish Colson were here instead of at some little kid’s birthday party with Ellie. He’s missing out on some good shit.”

“I know one of you will be texting him to fill him in before the night is over.” I looked at Eden, not because she was the drama spreader, but because she wouldn’t want Colson to feel left out. “Am I right?” I winked at her.

“We need to back up for a second.” Her hand was now on my arm. “You’re telling me she took off before it was even light out? And you don’t know if you’ll see her before she flies back to Boston?”

“That’s what I’m telling you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Did you piss her off?”

This time, when I exhaled, it came through my nose. “Not that I know of?—”

There was a vibration in my pocket, and I took out my phone to read the screen.

Jolie

I wish I had better news. I won’t be able to make it tonight. Sorry!

I shoved the phone back in my pocket, balled up my fingers, and banged them on the bar. “Walker, I need you to hurry up with that refill.”

As he lifted a bottle from behind the bar and tipped it toward my glass, I heard Eden ask, “Was that Jolie who just texted you?”

“Yes.” My jaw was clenched. “She’s not coming.”

Eden’s fingers hugged me harder. “I’m confused.”

“That makes two of us,” I admitted.

Once Walker finished pouring, I lifted the drink to my lips.

“Because something isn’t adding up,” she continued. “If things went well last night—and I’m figuring that if you asked her to come here, you believed things had gone really well—then why is she turning you down?”

“I don’t know.”

But I knew the anger I had about this situation and how badly I wanted to see her again, and I could only fucking imagine what she had felt when she didn’t get a reply from me about Africa.

“And darting out in the morning without even a goodbye—also fishy,” Eden said. “What if she’s heading back to Boston in the morning and tonight was your only shot at seeing her again?”

“Women are so fucking confusing,” Walker moaned.

Hart laughed. “I’m the only non-single one among us, and I’m still lost when it comes to how their brains work. I’ve got zero advice for you, Beck. I’m leaving this one up to Eden.”

“I’ve got this, none of you need to worry,” my sister said.

“Except for you—you do need to worry.” She was aiming her statement at me.

“Even if she has something going on tonight—whatever that something is—and say she has another something planned for early tomorrow morning, she could see you during the in-between hours. That’s what we do when it comes to something we care about—we run on no sleep, and we make it happen. Being tired isn’t even a concern.”

I placed my elbows on the bar and hung my head over my glass. “But maybe—whatever it is—it’s too important to miss out on sleep.”

“If you had a game bright and early the next morning, would that stop you?” Walker asked.

I stared straight into his green eyes. “No.”

“Case closed,” Eden replied.

I tilted my neck to gaze at my sister, and before my lips parted, I heard Jolie’s voice in my head, speaking the line that had stuck with me for all these years. “It’s not what they tell you, it’s what they show you.”

And what she was showing me? Fuck …