Best Served Cold

by Emma Hart

  “I wasn’t staring at you.” I put my roller down and got up carefully. The sheets we’d put down were soft under my bare feet as I carefully made my way to get my bottle from the counter, too. “I was watching what you were doing.”

  “Unless my cock was holding the paintbrush, I doubt that.”

  “It’s not that talented.”

  “You are the authority on its talents.”

  I grabbed my bottle and, resisting the urge to turn away, looked him in the eye. “You’re assuming I remember.”

  Something flashed through his eyes. “You assume I believe you.”

  “Believe what you want.” I uncapped my water and didn’t let up on eye contact, even though my heart had just skipped a beat. “It has been a while. I don’t remember what I ate last week, never mind what talents your cock has.”

  He stared at me for the longest moment. The unrelenting intensity of his gaze as his blue-green eyes stayed fixed on mine sent yet another shiver down my spine, and my heart was now not skipping a beat—it was going double-time.

  I wanted to swallow hard. Turn around. Pretend I was serious. Not give him a chance to see right through me.

  “Nice try,” he murmured, only inches from me.

  More accurately, I was mere inches from his bare chest. From his lean abs and the hint of a ‘v,’ I knew for a fact disappeared right under the waistband of his shorts.

  “What do you mean?” My voice was steadier and more confident than I felt inside.

  Inside, my stomach was quivering with butterflies from being so close to him.

  From, for a quick flash, feeling the way I had once upon a time.

  “You’ll have to do better than that to push my buttons, Rae.” He barely even blinked as he spoke, and he reached out and wound a small lock of my hair around his fingers. His gaze dropped to his finger, then hovered on my mouth, then found its way back to mine. “And you know it.”

  I held his eyes for a second before straightening and saying, “Do I?”

  Chase smirked, pulling his finger out so my hair sprung back into place over my shoulder. “Why don’t you try it and see what happens?”

  “Maybe I will.” I stepped away from him, taking the water with me. “And you’ll regret ever saying that to me.”

  “I don’t know.” He grabbed his roller and met my eyes for one last time. “Even ice melts over time, Rae.”

  “What does that mean?”

  His lips twitched. “If you keep playing with fire, even your heart will melt.”

  I blinked at him, then threw the remaining few mouthfuls out of my bottle at him. The droplets splattered across his back, and he tensed as the cold liquid ran over his skin.

  He glared at me.

  I shrugged a shoulder. “There. I put out the fire.”

  He kept glaring at me for a second before his lips twitched and he lost control. He laughed hard, and I turned, flicking my hair as I went.

  Chase, nil. Rae, one.

  Maybe.

  CHAPTER NINE – CHASE

  I pulled away from Rae’s house. She hadn’t spoken a word to me since this afternoon when I’d caught her staring at me.

  Well, that was a lie. She’d muttered a quiet “thank you” as she’d gotten out of the car a minute ago, but that didn’t count. That was her not being completely rude.

  I say not completely rude because she could give the silent treatment with the best of them, and she was goddamn good at it.

  But it’d worked for me today.

  Today had been nothing more than a reminder of how things used to be. How it was before she broke my heart for no fucking reason. Throwing back to high school and the day she’d finally agreed to go out with me had clenched at my damn heart.

  And she made it sound worse than it was. I hadn’t stalked her or anything. I’d just tried my luck a few times at asking her out. She says it like I asked her every week for three years or something.

  It wasn’t. Once a year for two years until she left for college, then the day of her birthday.

  When she said yes.

  If you asked me now if I’d have still asked her out knowing how it ended, my answer would be yes. I would have asked her out. I’d do it all over again, too.

  She wasn’t the bitch she came across as sometimes. Hell, she admitted she could be a bitch. I didn’t have rose-tinted glasses on and I wasn’t looking at her through some fucked-up veil of love.

  She could be a bitch, but she could also be the best person I’d ever known. She didn’t think with her head, she thought with her heart. She acted impulsively and didn’t always sit to think about the consequences of her actions.

  If she did, maybe she wouldn’t have ignored me for a week before she broke up with me with some lame-ass excuse about not being ready for a serious relationship.

  We’d been together two years. I was going to ask her to move in with me. We were hardly just hooking up.

  She had flaws. She wasn’t perfect. I didn’t want her to be perfect. She may have appeared that way to anyone who didn’t know her, but that’s because they didn’t see who she really was.

  She was rough around the edges, and so was I. Find me a human who wasn’t a little rough around the edges on the inside. All I hoped was that she’d wake up and realize that her rough edges fit right into mine.

  Because today I’d realized the one thing I didn’t want to admit to myself.

  I fucking missed her.

  I thought I was over missing her, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t over missing her smile on a morning or her over-dramatic eye rolls. I wasn’t over missing the way she looked at me or the way she hummed as she did the most mundane tasks.

  I wasn’t over her.

  That was almost more startling than knowing I was in love with her. They weren’t one and the same. You can love someone and still move on with your life. You can love someone and be over them and your relationship. They’re the kinds of loves that will always be there no matter what you do or where you go or who you meet—like your first true love.

  Then there are the kinds of loves that punch you in the gut and knock you down.

  That was how I felt about Rae.

  Even after two years, even knowing she hated me, even knowing she was only talking to me because she had to, I still felt the way about her as I always had.

  I still fucking loved her so hard it knocked me over. Slammed into me like a goddamn sucker punch that would leave a bruise I knew I’d never get rid of.

  I wasn’t over her. I’d never had closure to have a chance at getting over her.

  And no matter how many times she told me we were never getting back together, I knew she’d never had closure either.

  How the hell did you move on from something when the door was still open? You wouldn’t walk away from your house with the door ajar. Why had I allowed her to walk away from me when our door had never shut?

  Oh yeah, because I’d fucking cared about her. When she’d made it clear two years ago she was done with me, I’d listened.

  I’d been an idiot. And my actions since then had done nothing to endear her to me. Nothing to make her think that I still care about her.

  No. I’d just hurt her over and over, no matter how unintentionally.

  I pulled up outside my mom’s house and got out of the car.

  Marnie opened the door and grinned. “How goes seducing the ex?”

  “Fuck off,” I answered, stepping past her into the house.

  “Chase.” Mom appeared out of nowhere, hands on her hips as her floral skirt swished. “Don’t speak to your sister like that.”

  “Then tell her to stop annoying me.”

  “That’s what sisters are for,” Marnie sang, wandering into the kitchen and grinning at me again.

  I hit her with a hard look. “And you know what big brothers are for.”

  She stilled instantly. “I’m going to call Amber,” she said, running out of the room like I’d lit a firework up her ass.

&
nbsp; Mom watched her go then raised her eyebrow at me. “Are you still using the weed thing?”

  I shrugged and pulled water from the fridge. “She doesn’t know you know. I’ll take my entertainment where I can get it.”

  She laughed. “She has to know I know she’s lying.”

  “Sure she does. But as long as nobody tells her for sure, it’s bonafide blackmail for me.” I leaned against the edge of the counter. “And coming in real handy this week.”

  “Mmm. I heard you and Rae are talking again.” She raised one eyebrow, her blue eyes full of questions.

  “I wouldn’t say we’re talking…” I trailed off. “I’d say I’m talking, and she’s mostly bitching at me, which isn’t entirely undeserved, so…”

  She waved her spoon at me. “Child, I told you that store was a bad idea. You know she was havin’ one hell of a time when she broke up with you. If you’d bided your time, you’d have had her back in a hot minute.”

  “Thank you for that, Yoda.”

  She shot me a look that told me to watch my mouth.

  “I know that now, Mom, but I didn’t back then. I made a mistake, and now I’m paying for it. But at least she’s talking to me now.”

  “Jenna told me you broke her toe.”

  “The scraper broke her toe!”

  “Blaming it on a scraper isn’t going to get back in her good books.”

  “Nothing will get me back in her good books. I could shut the store and give her all my money and apologize on my knees for the next six months and it still won’t work.”

  “And whose fault is that?”

  “I’m twenty-seven, not ten. You don’t need to teach me about taking the blame for things.”

  “Good. Then accept the blame, admit to her you were wrong and that you didn’t open the store to ruin her business, and maybe you’ll get somewhere with her.”

  I snorted and took a seat at the island in the middle of the modern, open kitchen with black cupboards and white-granite countertops. “I’m almost certain her hatred is real. Any residual feelings she may have are just that. They’re purely there because we’re talking. I’m not going to kid myself into thinking Rae has any genuine feelings left for me. She made that quite clear when she told Jenna she’d rather walk over hot coals on her hands than get back with me.”

  Mom laughed. “To be honest, Chase, if I were her, I’d rather walk over hot coals on my hands than get back with you, too.”

  “Thanks. That makes me feel tons better.”

  She dropped the spoon on the counter and turned to look at me. “What do you want me to tell you? She’s wrong for feeling the way she does? ‘Cause that ain’t gonna happen. Was she wrong for breaking up with you how she did? She sure was, son. Don’t get me wrong. But you took it like a big ol’ baby. She’s justified in her feelings until you man up and tell her everything, and that includes telling her that you still love her.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. I don’t care if that but is, ‘But she doesn’t love me,’ tough. You invited that the moment you stuck an ice cream parlor sign on the shop next to hers. You saw a way to talk to her—she saw you whipping the rug out from under her feet.”

  I sighed and rubbed my hand through my hair.

  “I’m saying this as your mother because I love you, and love is tough sometimes.” She put her hands on the island and looked me in the eye. “If you love that girl—and I mean you really love her, Chase, then you’ll do whatever it takes to make her believe you again. And that includes telling her the goddamn truth, whether she loves you back or not. You got that?”

  I swallowed because, yes, I got that.

  “I said, you got that?”

  I nodded. “I got it.”

  “Good.” She straightened. “Remember this, son. There’s a fine line between love and hate, and sometimes, it ain’t even hate at all. It’s hurt.”

  ***

  Rae had texted me late last night and told me not to pick her up the next day. Apparently, all she needed to do was sign for a delivery, and Sophie was taking her to the store.

  Which was why, after I’d checked in at The Frozen Spoon and placed an order for the things we needed, I left Marnie in charge again with her best friend and went to the café.

  Luckily for me, Jenna was heaving this morning. Tourists were starting to dribble into town, and I’d deliberately cut the opening hours of The Frozen Spoon. Instead of ten ‘til seven, we were now open until three. This meant I didn’t have to stand and talk to her and explain why I was ordering two coffees, four donuts, three slices of pie, and two bagels.

  Not that I needed to explain. I saw the way her eyebrows had shot up at my order. I had a feeling that saying they were for my teen sister and her friend wouldn’t have been a believable story.

  Jenna had packed each pastry into its own individual bag, the donuts into one bag, and each piece of pie into a small triangular box. She’d put them all into one big bag, so all I needed to carry was the coffee tray and rest the bag handles over my arm.

  The door to Best Served Cold was shut when I got there. I could hear music inside, and there were lights on, so I knocked before I opened the door.

  Rae was up on the counter wearing tiny denim shorts, a tight tank, and a paintbrush in her hand. She turned her head and as soon as she saw me, her eyes widened. “Um.”

  “What the hell are you doing up there?”

  “Painting?” she offered, holding up the brush. “I put the steps there, look.” She pointed down with the brush, and a glob of paint fell onto the floor. “Whoops. Shit.”

  With a sigh, I put down my peace offering and went to grab a cloth to wipe it up. “Again, what the hell are you doing up there?”

  “Oh my God, it’s a broken toe. I didn’t dislocate my hip. I have long legs—I can reach the steps if I’m careful.”

  I knew she had long legs. They were distracting me right fucking then.

  “Three days ago, I watched you trip over your own doorstep. Do you know how to be careful?”

  “I practiced five times and only slipped once.” She put the brush in the tray. “This is why I told you I only had a delivery.”

  “You lied?”

  “No, I had a delivery, and then decided to do another coat of paint.” With not a lot of finesse, she flattened her hands on the counter and without fucking looking, reached her left leg back and down toward the steps.

  She missed them by an inch.

  I darted forward and grabbed her waist, stopping her from falling flat on her back on the hard floor. “See,” I said into her ear. “This isn’t careful.”

  Both feet firmly on the floor, she shivered. She stepped away from me, flattening her hands against her stomach. “Um, thank you.”

  “For saving your life? You’re welcome.” I grinned at her. “Aren’t you lucky I stopped by?”

  “Define lucky.” She sighed and met my eyes. “Why did you stop by?”

  “Because I knew you’d do something stupid like that.” I motioned to the counter where she’d been painting. “Also, I brought food.”

  She perked up like a puppy would at the mention of “walkies.” “You brought food?”

  I rounded the counter to my bag of goodies. “And coffee.” I pulled her coffee out and slid it over to her. “I figured it was lunchtime, and if you were here, you’d be hungry. And, well, it’s a peace offering.”

  Her dark eyebrow quirked up. “Peace offering?”

  One by one, I pulled the boxes and bags out. “Bagels. Pie. Donuts.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “What kinds?”

  “Cream cheese bagels.” I motioned to the bags. “One cherry pie, and one apple pie, and four different types of donuts.” I nudged the boxes to her and put the carrier bag on the floor.

  She looked from one bit of food to another. “And it’s all for me?”

  “Well, one of the bagels is for me. It is lunchtime.” I slid it back with a grin. “But if you wanna eat the rest, go ahea
d. It’s a peace offering.”

  “What exactly are you making peace for?”

  “For breaking your toe? For making you trip on your own doorstep and spill your coffee? For bugging you at lunch when you didn’t want to be bugged?”

  She considered this for a moment, tucking her hair behind her ear as she examined the donuts through the clear window in the box. “All acceptable reasons.”

  “Also, I wanted to actually say sorry for breaking your toe.”

  “What?” She jerked her head from the box so hard her hair fell back from behind her ear.

  “I never said sorry for breaking your toe. We just argued instead.” I reached over the counter and pushed her hair back, letting my fingers linger for my apology. “So, I’m sorry I scared you and am the reason you broke your toe.”

  Rae swallowed, her fingers moving to the spot mine had just been and hovering there for a moment before she ran them through her hair as if she was brushing my touch away. “It’s okay. I mean, it’s not, but it was an accident. It’s not like you slammed a wooden pole onto my foot.” She shrugged a shoulder and looked down, toying with the edge of the bagel bag. “You didn’t have to do this. It’s sweet.”

  “The way to your heart is through your sweet tooth.” I half-smiled, one that grew to a full, wide smile when she blushed.

  “Well, thank you. And—” She paused, once again looking up. “Thank you for helping me after my toe. I appreciate it.”

  “Anytime.”

  “Like right now, anytime?”

  My eyebrows raised. “Why? Are you finally admitting you’re not superwoman and you can’t do it all?”

  “Not quite.” Her lips twitched, but her eyes were laughing. “I’m admitting that my toe really hurts, and I forgot to bring any painkillers with me this morning.”

  I pretended to sigh and dropped my head forward before looking back up at her. “So, you’re asking me if I can run to the drugstore for you.”

  She bit her lip and nodded.