Page 29 of The Sweetest Risk

“We didn’t do anythingthatnight.” I purse my lips and avoid eye contact with Tess because I already know my comment has sparked a fire I can’t extinguish.

“Brooke Beckett! What do you meanthatnight? There was another night where something happened?”

So I tell her all about the pure hat trick night. About the frosting. About all the ridiculously hot things he did to my body that no other man has ever done to my body before. When I am finally done spilling the tea, Tess’ expression is one of pure excitement and intrigue.

“Woman! How did you not immediately tell me what happened that night? I knew he had to be good in bed. Well excuse me, he sounds amazing in the kitchen with you splayed all over the counter.”

“Tess!” I glance at the table next to us, where funnily enough are seated two old ladies who look as though they have been friends for decades, also just catching up, still drinking bottomless mimosas and eating pastries. Goals. I just hope they didn’t overhear what Tess just said. I can feel my cheeks heat up regardless.

Tess raises her eyebrows. “So are you guys like a thing now? Oh my God, I love that for you.”

I don’t know? Are we a thing? I’ve actively avoided talking with Tristan about what happened that night because I am too scared of the implications. Also, I am fucking terrified about how my body is now reacting when anyone mentions Tristan’s name or anytime I see his face. Living in Dallas, it is impossible to avoid all the billboards, and now that we are in Uptown, they have Storm posters in almost every shop window. I can’t escape Tristan Lawson. And now he is in my head more than usual.

“I honestly don’t know what we are.” I finish my first mimosa and Tess waves down the waiter so he can pour more into my glass. I drink half the glass and tap the side of it.

“Well, I know one thing is for sure,” Tess says with a serious expression.

“What’s that?”

“I’m never going to see cupcakes the same again. You both have ruined them for me, but in the best way.”

I blush. “Oh my God, Tess!”

She smiles. “I just love this for you. I mean, one of the reasons you broke up with Nick was because he was too vanilla. Too safe. Right?”

I shrug. “Right.”

“It seems like Tristan is definitely the opposite of vanilla. In every way. You met your match with Tristan, Brooke. I don’t know why you are resisting him so much. I wasn’t even there and you describing what you did on that kitchen counter is what girls and let’s be honest, guys dream about. I know that would be a dream I would want to come true. There’s that thin line between love and hate.”

“I’m resisting him so much for a plethora of reasons.” Mainly because he called me ugly and not his type the night I met him. He finds every opportunity he can to tease me. He has slept with so many women I don’t think I can count them on my two hands. So who is he comparing me to when he is with me? Also, he is my older brother’s best friend. That’s a whole other line that I don’t know if I want to continue crossing. No matter how much I loved the way Tristan’s hands, lips and tongue felt on my body.

I swallow hard. “Reasons I don’t feel like getting into right now. Can we please talk about something else other than Tristan? What’s new with you?”

“You’re not getting off that easy, B. We are going to continue this conversation at a later date. But since you asked…”

After brunch,we need to kill some time and sober up before driving home. It also gives Tess an excuse to get a nice walkin with Pippa. We stroll around West Village and come across a storefront with an “available to rent” sign in the window. It’s a corner lot with a lot of potential for my dream bakery. There is faded green trim on all the windows and an existing awning outstretched overhead. The worn brown door has a brass handle and there are remnants of where the old sign hung above the door frame. The retail shops, restaurants and small movie theater that surround the two-block radius of West Village would bring in a good amount of foot traffic. Although there is a Starbucks at the opposite corner – far enough away that I could serve coffee for my customers as well. That is part of my business plan. Even if it doesn’t happen right away, I want to grow into a bakery that serves an array of coffee choices. Cupcakes and other baked goods will do for a bit before I can expand into the coffee sector.

I can see it all. I actually have a big 3-inch binder with an entire business plan and I drew up some designs for how I want the exterior and interior to look. Brooke’s Bakes. It will have a bright green door with cute pink metal tables along the three big windows on each side of the entrance. Pink and green flowers will cover the main store sign and cascade alongside the big green door. I want a large, clean, white display case and counter with floor-to-ceiling white built-ins behind the counter where I can also display merchandise and extra treats. The walls will be painted a light pink shade and the floors will be light wood. There will be comfortable suede green and pink chairs around square white marbled tables with gold bases. Long, thin Edison bulb light fixtures hanging over the space. Fresh pink flowers as the centerpiece at every table. A pink neon sign with the lit-up words “How Sweet It Is…” because I love that song.

I remember when I was a little girl sneaking down the stairs to watch my parents dance to that song every Saturday night. It was their wedding song and any time this song came on theradio, they would be in the middle of the living room dancing in each other’s arms. I knew what my parents had was special and I hoped that someday I would have the same thing. A man to dance with to our wedding song. A girl can dream.

“So what do you think?”

Tess’ question jerks me out of my head, back to the present. She is peeking into the window. Pippa props herself on the glass, mimicking her owner.

“It’s perfect.” It really is, but I am already struggling with how much my apartment rent is increasing – I can’t imagine how much the rent would be for a space in the West Village. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I can afford it, Tess.”

She walks backwards to where I am standing. “Well, the only way you can know for sure how much it will be is to call this number. Take a picture and call.”

“That’s true.” I grab my phone from my back pocket and snap a photo of my dream space. One that I can surely never afford, but maybe I will print out this picture and put it into my scrapbook, along with what I want my dream bakery to look like.

“Promise me you are going to call, right? Because I know you, B. Don’t be scared to dream big. And before you say anything, it’s not a stupid dream or too big of a dream. No dream is stupid. It’s scary as hell to pursue something you are passionate about. But you will never know if you can make it a reality unless you try. And you know you have the biggest support system ever with me by your side. Hell, I may even quit teaching and help you run your business. I would love to be able to still hang out with you all day and be around all the sugary goodness.”

“Thanks, friend.” I give her a hug.

As we continue down the sidewalk, I look back at the storefront, trying to capture this moment. Also, trying not to get caught up in it.

“I’ll call tomorrow and see.”

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