Page 72 of Best Served Cold

So now he thinks the relationship with Sophie is real, and he’ll obviously report back to Patricia and Jonah. Fine. I’d wanted Jonah to believe the lie anyway.

After meeting with my dad, I felt worked up. I almost called Travis immediately and asked for help. I wanted to lose myself in something, and I was in the kind of mood that could lead to dark places that had no ladder.

Instead, I went home, set an alarm for when I was supposed to get Sophie, and started playing my guitar. The hours hummedby the way they do when I’m in the zone, living in the music, the time streaming as quickly as water.

Losing myself.

Losing myself so much I didn’t hear the fucking alarm go off.

Which was why I’d missed my Not-a-Date with Sophie. I hadn’t eaten either. And when I finally surfaced, I was starving for the real world—for her, for food, for something that wasn’t pretend.

I admit, I panicked. I was already late, and she wasn’t answering her phone. I rushed to the brewery, but when I got there, the place was dark inside. She’d already left. So I got right back into my car and drove toward her house.

I’m there now, feeling hyped up and worried. Needing to fix this.

Otis answers the door, looking as solemn as his nature probably allows him to. “Sophie’s pretty upset, man. She’s eating ice cream with a fork again.”

It’s a metric I haven’t heard of before, but it’s obvious it’s not good.

“I fucked up,” I admit, feeling my heart thrum in my chest. “It was unintentional, but I know that doesn’t make it okay. Can I see her?”

He scratches the back of his head, his expression conflicted. “Are you going to make it right?”

“I’d like to try.”

He considers this for a moment and then nods. “I know you’re a good guy, and it makes me sick that I missed everything at the brewery last night. But my cousin is…she’sawesome, man, and she doesn’t know it. It kills my grandmother and me, but I tell you what. I don’t want anyone messing with her. I mean, I’m not challenging you to a fight or anything. We both know I’d lose, but be cool.”

“I get it,” I say. “I respect that.”

“I’m, you know, the man of the house here. I’ve got to step up.”

I hold back a smile, because he’s totally serious.

“You’re a good cousin, Otis. I’m sure Sophie appreciates you and all you do.”

“All I do,” he says with a laugh. “Yeah, I’m a regular captain of industry, me and my Honey Do job.”

I remember what it was like to be his age, to think everything was the end of the world, that if my legacy wasn’t established by thirty, I’d be dust. So I say, “Come on. You’re doing all right. But if you’re looking for other work, you could come help Trav and me at The Missing Beat sometime. Text me.”

“Working with kids?” he asks, nodding thoughtfully.

“Yeah, it’s the best.” Even if Otis is little more than a kid himself. Maybe seeing our students find their passions will help him do the same.

“Count me in, but let me know if you ever see this bird.” He flashes me a photo on his phone. “There’s a huge reward.”

“For that?” I ask, incredulous.

“Rich people,” he deadpans. “Anyway, I’ll go get her,” he adds and then heads up the stairs and out of sight.

Sophie comes down a few minutes later, wearing pajamas: a loose Buchanan Brewery T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts with hearts printed all over them. Her eyes are a little red, like maybe she was crying earlier, and it feels like someone’s attacking my heart with a vegetable peeler.

I’m the one who did this to her, not Jonah. I’ll have to remember she’s sensitive. Sweet. She deserves more than he was able to give her. Truthfully, she might deserve more than I could give her too, which means keeping this thing between us fake is the right play.

If Jonah believes we’re together, fantastic.

If Nelly believes? All the better.

But we should keep it at that.

---