Page 179 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

“Bea, you don’t need⁠—”

“I’ve got you,” she says, flashing me a smile that I struggle to return.

“Thank you,” I mumble before heading back out to my client.

The day drags, and no amount of caffeine can fix the awful night’s sleep I had. But despite desperately wanting to go home, crawl into bed, and block the world out, when our final clients of the day leave, Bea bundles me into her car and drives me to her place.

Rett is away on a road series, so it’s just the two of us.

After kicking off my sneakers, I flop on Bea’s couch, listening to her crash about in the kitchen. I might be curious as to what she’s doing, but I’m also too exhausted to look.

“Here you go. One margarita,” Bea announces before a cocktail glass appears before me.

I blink at it. I’ve barely eaten today. Drinking that is a bad idea.

But knowing that doesn’t stop me from reaching out, taking it from her, and then lifting it to my lips.

Thankfully, I quickly discover that it’s not as strong as it could be.

“Enjoy that. I’m going to change quickly. Did you want some sweats and a hoodie?”

I should say no. If I change, then it’s pretty much set that I’m staying the night. But judging by the way Bea is looking at me, I think that’s already been decided.

“Yeah, that would be great. Thank you.”

“You’d do the same for me.”

I nod. I’d do anything for her.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m back on Bea’s couch wearing her clothes, with my hair piled in a messy bun on top of my head, and my first margarita is almost gone. Despite it being relatively weak, I’ve already got a little buzz going.

“Okay, food is ordered. Now, lay all of it on me,” she says, curling her legs beneath her as she sits on the other side of the couch.

My mouth opens and closes for a few seconds as I try to figure out where to start.

Twenty-four hours on, it all seems like a dream. Unfortunately, the anger and disappointment are still very, very real.

“When I was a kid, I was obsessed with horse riding.” Bea frowns in confusion. “To stop me from going on about it so much, my parents booked us a holiday on a ranch in Texas. Garrett wasn’t thrilled; he could think of a million and one things more exciting than spending two weeks with horses. But he went along with it. I was buzzing when we arrived. And the ranch was everything I could have hoped for.

“We stayed in these cabins, and that afternoon, I had my first horse riding session.

“I was living my best life. I didn’t think it could get any better. But then I met him.

“Vinny Smythson.

“He was…” I shake my head as I think of that boy back then. “So cute. Sun-bleached blond hair, glowing tan, the most incredible smile, and a droolworthy accent. Oh, and did he know how to handle a horse.

“My crush started instantly, and I’m pretty sure the feeling was mutual. We pretty much spent the entire two weeks together. It was the kind of summer every preteen girl dreams of.

“But back then, neither of us had cell phones, so when I left, we promised to write. We did for a bit, but then life got busy and we lost touch.

“I’ve thought about him often, considered seeing if I could book another break at the ranch. I always assumed he took it over from his father, like those who came before him. But every time I looked it up and went to book, I backed out. I was the one who stopped writing. How could I walk into that place all those years later and assume he’d still be interested?”

Bea nods, sipping on her virgin margarita, curiosity burning in her eyes.

“I stopped looking for him in the crowd a long time ago. Things like that don’t happen in real life.”

“Until they do,” Bea muses.