“Why, don’t you just look chipper as a daisy today,” she said when I bent over, my elbows on the counter. “What happened?”
I shook my head, reluctant to answer.
She washed her hands in the sink before grabbing a banana from the hanging fruit basket. “Tell me.”
I relayed my conversation with Tim and how I’d screwed up my beer because of it. “And it all comes back to him,” I said. “If it weren’t for Blake, I wouldn’t have argued with Tim, which made me miss the hop schedule. It’s all his fault, really.”
Sonja let out a dubious laugh. “Did you ever think maybe if you let yourself give in, you wouldn’t be a walking mess? Ever since you met him, you’ve been second-guessing everything. Go with your gut. You like him, see what happens.” She slung her arm around my shoulders. “If you don’t, you might end up burning the garage down.”
I had a strong fight-or-flight response. When it came to Out of the Bottle, I always fought. But when it came to my personal life, I always flew. Maybe it was about time to put my dukes up.
“Yeah. I guess.”
Sonja shook me until I smiled. “You want to go to the movies? I’ll buy.”
“You know just what to say to a girl, don’t you?” I laughed.
She turned away with a sly wink over her shoulder. “If only everyone were as easy as you.”
CHAPTER 10
Blake
It had been almost two weeks since the Public opened, and it had gotten only positive reviews so far. Day and night, I searched for criticisms, reading Yelp, TripAdvisor, and blogs for what people thought. I’d become addicted to it, needing the reassurance that the pub was going to be okay. That the risk was worth it.
I was in Connor’s car when Bear batted my phone out of my hands from the back seat. “Put that away, dude. You’re going to go crazy.”
“I already am crazy,” I said, pocketing the device.
“I think it’s safe to say you’ll be making back three times your investment soon enough,” Connor said, turning into the State Fairgrounds parking lot. “I think it’ll be our new coaches’ hangout after games this season.”
“You hear anything else about the position?” I asked, pointing to an empty parking space.
He shook his head. “Just trying to get the team ready for next year. Working them hard in the weight room is all I can do for now.”
I knew the head coaching position was really important to him, and I patted him on the shoulder, hoping for the best, as he shut the ignition off.
Chilly air hit me as soon as I opened the door, but the cold didn’t seem to have deterred anyone from turning out for the craft brew festival. With three tents set up, hordes of people were huddled together drinking inside and outside. Over one hundred beers were available to sample from around the country, a good opportunity to taste different brews and possibly pick some for the Public.
Connor, as usual, went to the line with the shortest wait, while Bear and I were a little more particular. I got a double IPA from a brewery in Milwaukee, Bear had a porter from Devils Backbone, while Connor went with a lager.
We milled around for a while, shooting the shit, drinking different beers. Bear even got stopped for a photo. It didn’t happen that often anymore, but apparently the fan hailed from Chicago and recognized him right away. As Bear finished up talking, I spotted a sign in the last tent boasting a familiar-looking logo. And underneath it was Piper.
I strode toward her before I’d even made the conscious decision to do so. I hadn’t seen her since she ran away from my pub like she was on fire. And it was my fault.
I had kissed her.
I couldn’t help it. Not after she leaned into me, pressing her sweet lips against my cheek. She’d smelled so good and felt so warm against me. She was everything I liked best, and I wondered if she knew it when she looked up at me.
“Hey there.”
“Hi.” Her eyes softened the slightest bit before glancing away when she grabbed a rag to wipe up a few drops of spilled beer from the table. “What can I get for you?”
I looked over the choices she had. The Platinum Blonde or Natural Red. “I’ll take the Blonde.”
She filled my cup and handed it back to me, our fingers brushing in the exchange. That’s when I noticed she still hadn’t smiled at me, and before I could try to make her, a woman elbowed her in the side.
“Hi, I’m Sonja,” she said, sticking her hand out. Sonja was small with pretty features. Her skin and eyes were the same warm brown, and she had a sweet smile that belied the strength of her handshake.
“Blake,” I said. “Do you work with Piper?”
“Friends and roommates.” Sonja briefly glanced at Piper. “You the owner of the Public?”
When I nodded, she leaned forward, hands on the table in front of her, and I noticed the boxing logo on her hoodie. Before I could ask about it, she went on, “Pipes tells me your gastropub is pretty awesome. I’ll have to check it out, especially if you’re serving her beer. It’s the only kind I drink.”
I smiled at Piper. “Good friend you got here.”
That earned a grin, but it wasn’t at me. It was aimed at Sonja. “The best.”
That’s when Bear and Connor caught up to us and greeted Piper, who in turn introduced Sonja.
She pointed at Bear. “You look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”
“I used to play pro hockey,” he said, and Sonja snapped her fingers.
“Yeah. You’re Thomas Behr. You played for the Blackhawks.”
Connor huffed out a laugh. “Recognized twice in one day. You gonna be on the cover of magazines now?”
“Shut up,” Bear said to him before turning back to Sonja. “You a big fan of hockey?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “As much as the next Minnesota girl is. You mind if we take a picture?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Sonja sidled up next to Bear, though she had to balance on her tiptoes with more than a foot of height difference between them. She tossed her phone to Connor, who stepped away to take their picture, and suddenly it was only me and Piper.
My eyes fell to my now-empty cup. “Can we talk about what happened at the opening?”
She stopped me with a halting gesture. “I wasn’t lying when I told you it wasn’t right for us to . . . date. I’ve got a lot riding on this,” she said, pointing to her booth. “I can’t screw it up.”
I wanted to argue with her, but now wasn’t the time, especially since we were surrounded by everyone else in her field. It’d be a terrible time to say Forget them and kiss me again.
A group of four guys approached the table, and Piper’s demeanor changed. Her lips tipped up into her happy-go-lucky smile and her shoulders rounded back into a friendly, confident posture.
“So, you run this place?” one of them asked.
“I’m the owner and brewer,” she said with a proud grin.
One of the other guys, obviously tipsy, leaned over the table into her space, offering what he probably thought was a flirtatious smirk. In reality, it was smarmy.
“Well, color me surprised,” he said. He might as well have been a dog for the way he drooled over her. “I’ve never met a woman brewer before. Are you sure you’re the one in charge, and not just the pretty girl they put up front to sell the beer?”
Piper’s jaw clenched. “I’m sure.”
And then this douchebag proceeded to point to the logo on her shirt, his finger way too close to her chest for my liking. She brushed him away with a congenial laugh and took a step back as she filled their cups with samples.
I wanted to say something, save her from this guy, but I didn’t have to. His buddies pulled him away as they moved on, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Piper’s eyes met mine, and her cheeks were flushed. I didn’t know if it was from anger or embarrassment, but either way I didn’t like it.
“Does that happen to you a lot?”
She shrugged her answer, but I knew the truth. A beautif
ul woman hanging out with drunk guys all the time, I could only imagine what kinds of things were said to her.
“That’s shitty,” I said.
She waved it off, setting her shoulders. “Whatever.”
I stepped to the edge of the table, getting as close to her as possible without going to her side. “It’s not whatever. Nobody should be saying crap like that to you. It’s not right.”
“Listen.” She tipped her head up to me. “I’ve got thick skin, all right? He didn’t hurt my feelings. I’m fine. If I weren’t, I wouldn’t still be doing this after all these years.”
I nodded, proudly. “Like a boss.”
She grinned widely. “Like a motherfucking boss.”
Damn, I wanted to kiss her even more after that line. I settled for a high five.
I wrapped my fingers around her palm, squeezing every last second out of this small contact as possible. She finally pulled away from me, and I didn’t try to fight it.
“Looks like they’re getting along,” she said, pointing over my shoulder.
I followed her gaze to find Bear curled over Sonja’s shoulder looking at her phone. “Guess so.”
“Good,” she said, turning into me. Probably a little closer than she’d expected, since her eyes widened. “Maybe they can do all the sporty things together that she tries to force me to do.”
I tilted my head, admiring the freckles on her nose. “You’re not into sporty things?”
“Not with that one,” she said, motioning with her head toward Sonja. “She takes all the fun out of hikes. She’s like, ‘Oh come on, let’s run to the top, it’ll be fun. Oh, why don’t you come to the gym with me to box, it’ll be fine.’ ” She held up her right hand. “That’s how I broke my middle finger. Do you know how hard it is to brew with your fingers all bandaged and taped together?”
I ran my thumb over said middle finger. “I’m guessing pretty hard.”
She didn’t answer, her eyes trained on where I touched her. After a moment, her attention flashed around me, clearly trying to avoid eye contact. “Wonder where Connor got to.”
I scanned the crowd and spotted his ratty high school football hat. I narrowed my eyes to get a better look at the woman he was speaking to. She was older. Pretty, but definitely older. “Over there,” I said, motioning with my empty cup. “He’s got a thing for cougars.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Really? Didn’t expect that. From Bear, yes. Connor, no.”
“It’s the quiet ones you gotta watch out for,” I whispered, conspiratorially.
She smirked. “I’ll remember that.”
Sonja skipped up to the table, while Bear meandered behind her.
Another group approached Piper’s table, and I stepped out of the way. “Maybe I’ll see you later?”
She tossed me a quick nod and smile, and I wanted later to be now.
CHAPTER 11
Piper
I’m all dressed up with nowhere to go,” I shouted from the living room. I ran my fingers through Leo’s thick fur, making sure none of it clung to my jeans or favorite shirt. It was a special occasion, so I’d broken out the clingy V-neck. Paired with one of Victoria’s secrets, I actually owned some cleavage.
“Grab the tequila. Let’s do a shot.” Sonja flitted down the stairs.
I turned to her, dressed in a cute romper with tights—a style I could never pull off. “You want to do a shot?”
She threw me a look and waltzed past me to the kitchen. “It’s my birthday. I only turn twenty-seven once. I’m doing a shot—shots—of tequila.”
I pushed off the sofa and followed her. “Alrighty then.”
She grabbed the bottle of the rarely touched Patron and two small glasses, then poured an overflowing shot into each one.
I picked mine up, wiping the excess liquid off with my thumb. “To my best friend.”
“To my birthday.”
“To a hundred more.”
“To staying twenty-seven forever,” she said, and I clinked my glass to hers then swallowed down the clear liquor, grimacing at the burn. Sonja immediately filled up the glasses again. She saluted me and downed the second shot.
When Sonja wanted to do something, she went all in. And tonight—
“I’m getting drunk!”
I echoed her cheer with my own and swallowed the tequila. I couldn’t let my best friend get drunk by herself, but I stopped her from pouring me a third shot and pulled up Uber on my phone. “Where do you want to go?”
I hoped she’d say the Public. The last time I saw Blake, at the beer festival, he’d had this cute hopeful look on his face; he told me he’d see me later, then leaned in close to whisper, “Sooner rather than later, Piper.”
And then I’d died.
My heart felt like it had stopped for a good five seconds after he said my name and offered me a quick glimpse of his dimple before he slipped into the crowd, pulling Bear and Connor along with him.
Since then, I’d been itching to see him and his lopsided smile again. And hear his voice. And stare into his blue-green-brown eyes. But, whatever, it’s not like I was desperate.
Not really.
“The Public, obviously,” Sonja said, and took shot number three.
My best friend, she never let me down.
“We gotta see your boyfriend.”
I typed the address into the app. “Not my boyfriend.”
Her voice lifted to an annoyingly high lilt in a spot-on impression of a ten-year-old. “But you want him to be.”
I didn’t have an argument there, so I took the middle schooler’s way out and echoed her words back with just as irritating a nasally voice, then showed her my phone. “Our ride will be here in four minutes.”
“Enough time for one more shot.”
I filled up a glass of water. “Or to chug this down.” She begrudgingly drank it as I put the liquor away. “I’ll get ya drunk, but I won’t clean up your puke.”
“Some friend you are.”
I pushed her shoulder. She retaliated with a pretend right hook. God forbid she actually landed that thing, or I might not be going out tonight.
We grabbed our purses and headed outside to meet Lucy, our sixty-six-year-old driver, who regaled us with the time she snuck backstage at a concert on her twenty-first birthday and gave a blow job to Peter Frampton. She was apparently a well-known groupie in the Midwest.
“Thanks a lot,” I said, stepping out of the car.
“No problem.”
I waved and pivoted around.
Sonja swiped some lip gloss on. “Lucy is kind of awesome.”
“Right?”
It was a Friday night, and the weather was warm enough that a lot of people were barhopping downtown. And from the number of patrons inside, it seemed a lot of them were hopping to the Public.
“There’s Bear.” Sonja pointed at the bar, and it didn’t escape my attention how she ran a hand over her hair.
“Sonja,” I said, halting our steps. “Do you have a thing for Bear?”
She snorted. “No.”
I eyed her.
“No. We just have a lot in common. We text sometimes. I don’t have time for a man, you know that.”
I nodded, but my suspicion went up a notch when Bear turned around, and her face split with a big grin.
“Hey, birthday girl.” He gave her a high five then threw his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.
Connor stood behind Bear. He offered me a wave, his face somewhat hidden behind his ever-present baseball hat. “Hey.”
I leaned my elbow on the bar. “What is this? Cheers?”
“Where everybody knows your name,” Bear said.
Blake suddenly appeared at my shoulder behind the bar.
“Does that make me Sam?” he asked no one in particular, but his eyes ended up on me. He checked me out from head to toe, and when his eyes lit up, I’d never been happier that I’d spent half an hour digging through the clearance bin at Express for a top.
I nodded in answer to his question, and he gave me one of his cocky grins. “Are you going to be my Diane?”
I bit back my own smile, fighting the resounding voice in my head shouting Yes! Yes! Yes!
“How about getting this lady a birthday drink?” I said instead, pulling Sonja to me.
“What’ll it be?”
Sonja almost never drank, but when she did it was usually vodka with a twist. Something about drinking alcohol straight without mixers for less sugar and carbs and blah blah blah. But tonight she threw caution to the wind.
“I’ll have your finest beer, please.”
Blake rapped his knuckles on the bar twice before grabbing a glass to pour her a Natural Red. He placed it in front of her. “Only the best.”
He looked to me then for my order. “I’m going with the Brunette tonight.”
He poured expertly, just a touch of foam at the top. “Brunette Beauty, straight out of the bottle.” He handed it to me, and I had a feeling he brushed my fingers on purpose. “You know, this is one of my top sellers.”
My face felt like it was going to split in half because my smile was so big, and I turned in a circle, doing a little dance. One of my beers was a top seller. I was a top seller.
And BeerasaurusRex could kiss my ass.
I caught Blake staring at said ass over my shoulder, and I savored the attention. The more I hung around him, the harder it was to control my desire. I knew it was a bad idea to want to be with him, yet as long as his heated gaze was on me, I didn’t care.
“If it’s selling, I’m happy.”
“Me too. Listen,” he said, bending to put his forearms on the bar to speak quietly to me. “I know this isn’t the best time to talk shop, but I was thinking for the summer, I could get—”
Bear butted into the conversation. “Hey. No business at the dinner table.”
“Not a dinner table,” I pointed out.
He held up a fry from the plate of whatever sandwich he’d eaten. “Close enough.”
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