That Secret Crush

by Quinn, Meghan

  The corner of his jaw pulses right before he spins on his heel and stomps away, basket of groceries in hand. When he’s out of earshot, Oliver leans down toward my ear and says, “That was uncomfortable.”

  I turn back toward him, feeling bad he got mixed up in that. “He’s going through things.”

  “Does he think we’re dating?”

  “Probably.” I chuckle; I can’t help it. “Apparently, he’s been running around town trying to figure out who I’m going out with, and it looks like you’ve just become his prime suspect. He’s gonna be so mad when he realizes we’re just friends.”

  “He’s still so hung up on you.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I sigh. “It’s a shame that he ruined it.”

  “There’s no second chance for him?”

  I glance toward where Reid walked off. “I really don’t know at this point.”

  I was expecting a good amount of applications to work at the restaurant—but not this many. Holy cow, a lot of people want to be a part of Knight and Port, and I don’t blame them. The buzz around town about the restaurant has been absolutely amazing. The restaurant committee approved the menu, which is an important step, especially in a small town. No one ever wants to step on anyone’s toes, so to see the overwhelming support for what the boys created is a huge win.

  Now to hire some people.

  Two weeks out. Interviews have been conducted, and now I have to make the final decision. Mr. Knightly had a few candidates he really wanted to hire, the boys picked a couple of chefs to help out in the kitchen, and now I have to fill in the holes.

  On Friday, Eric and Reid are making all the new hires a buffet of the entire menu so they can test everything and know how to talk about it with customers. Since the kitchen isn’t quite done, Mr. Knightly said he would hold a cookout at his house as a celebration for Knight and Port. I stare at the mountain of applications on the kitchen counter, knowing I only have a few days to make some decisions.

  I’m shuffling through some applications as my apartment door opens. Expecting Eric, I say, “Please tell me you got the orange chicken.”

  “I didn’t, but I’m sure hoping Eric did.”

  Still staring at the applications, I try not to let myself get excited at the sound of his voice. “What are you doing here, Reid?”

  “Such a nice greeting.” He shuts the door behind him and takes a seat at the table with me. When I still don’t look at him, he lifts my chin, forcing my gaze to his and creating a crack in my usual confident veneer. I miss lying in bed with him and staring into those eyes. I miss the little jokes, the teasing, the command he held when buried deep inside of me.

  I miss all of him.

  He’s wearing his classic worn jeans and a tight black shirt that clings to the boulders of his arms, and his hair is styled into an almost fauxhawk. Dangerous and compelling, his self-confidence in this moment has me light headed.

  “There she is,” he says and then pulls away. “What are you up to? Besides waiting for Eric to bring you orange chicken.”

  I stare at him for a few beats and then clear my throat, pulling myself together. “Uh, I’m looking through applications for the restaurant. I have a few waitstaff positions to fill before Friday.”

  “Need some help?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I’m good. I can finish this up later.” I push the applications to the side. “Why are you here?”

  “What, am I not allowed to come visit you?”

  “Not really.”

  His brow pinches together. “But we’re friends.”

  “I don’t know what cheery boat you stepped off of today, Reid, but we’re not friends. We’re business partners, and that’s about it.”

  He lets out a deep breath. “Listen, Eve, I know I hurt you.”

  “Hurt me? You think you just hurt me?” I shake my head. “Reid, you destroyed me.” The stiff upper lip I’ve had about our relationship loosens as my bottled-up feelings surface. “Do you realize how close we were? How close we were to having it all, to . . . to . . . love? I was there, right there, handing you my heart, and you didn’t take it. You didn’t just hurt me; you broke me.”

  “I . . . fuck, Eve, I was—”

  “Save it.” I hold up my hand. “I don’t want to get into this right now. It’s been months—I’ve moved on.”

  “So I noticed,” he bites out. “How is Oliver, by the way?”

  “That’s none of your business, and you have no right to use that kind of tone with me. Unless you have something to say about the restaurant, I suggest you leave.”

  Regret flashes over his face. “I want to be friends,” he says, looking me dead in the eyes.

  He must really be losing it if he thinks that’s an option.

  “Never going to happen. There’s too much between us, too much hurt, too much that went unsaid. You completely blindsided me, Reid. That’s going to be very hard to get over.”

  “Try,” he pleads, leaning forward. “Try to be friends.”

  I shake my head just as the apartment door opens, and Eric walks in. I see it the minute he takes us in, the question in his eye. “What’s going on in here?”

  Reid stands and sticks his hands in his pockets. “Had a question about the applications. Thanks for taking care of it for me.” His voice sounds distant, strained, and it pains me to know I’m the one who put that tone there. “I’ll catch you two later.”

  He takes off and shuts the door behind him, and I’m left wondering if I was too hard on him. But then again, he’s the one who did this to us.

  He wants to be friends? I don’t think that’s ever going to be possible. How can I go back to friendship when the love I have for him still runs deep in my bones?

  Morning-catch day is the worst. I begged Barb to take care of Reid’s payment this morning, but she just glanced at me and snorted. Have I mentioned she’s the absolute worst?

  With a deep breath, I open the back door to the Inn kitchen and keep my chin high as I come face to face with Reid.

  Not wearing his fishing gear this go-around, but still standing next to his full cooler of lobsters, he actually seems approachable—not like he would smell like this morning’s catch.

  I haven’t spoken with him since he left my apartment a few days ago. He shot me a text later that night, apologizing for upsetting me and ruining everything between us. As tears streamed down my face, I realized I didn’t have it in me to text him back. I knew that if I did, I would probably crumble and ask him for another chance.

  I can’t be the one to break, the one to give in. He did this to us, and if he wants to have any other kind of relationship with me beyond the restaurant, then he’s going to have to figure it out himself.

  Keeping things neutral, I stare down at the catch and say, “Wow, you caught a lot this morning.”

  “Had a little help from Brig.”

  “And he didn’t fall off the boat?” The joke slips effortlessly from my mouth before I can rein it in.

  The tone in my voice must lift his spirits because he smiles and takes a step forward. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Wait, did he fall off?”

  “Yup.” He laughs, the sound so sexy that I have to will myself not to fall into his arms. “When he was pulling up a cage, the boat caught a wave and lifted him up and overboard. He fell in and started flailing around like an idiot.”

  “Oh God.” I laugh, picturing the whole thing. “I wish that was on camera.”

  He pulls his phone from his pocket. “I didn’t get it on video, but I did get a few good pictures.” He steps toward me and holds the phone out. I take it and immediately start laughing when I see Brig’s arms flailing about in the water and a panicked look on his face.

  “Poor Brig. You must have scarred him for life.”

  “Let’s just say he sat in the corner with a space blanket wrapped around him for the rest of the trip. I don’t think he’ll be going out with me again anytime soon.”

  “
Why did he go to begin with?” I ask, handing back his phone, careful to make sure our fingers don’t brush.

  “I wanted some advice, and the only time we could talk was early in the morning. Don’t worry, I bought him breakfast after and promised coffee from Ruth’s on me for the rest of the week.”

  “That’s a good brother.” I toe the ground. “What kind of advice did you need?” I don’t know why I asked, really. Except that maybe, despite wanting to keep him at arm’s length, I also want a little more time with him.

  His long lashes flutter open, and he tilts his head, studying me. “Romantic advice.”

  My stomach falls to my toes, and nausea creeps up my throat. Is he going to start dating? I don’t think I would be able to handle watching Reid date someone else. And that’s when it hits me: maybe this is how he feels, hearing all the rumors about me seeing someone. That’s all they are, rumors, but he doesn’t know that, and I did nothing to ease the anxiety that must be raging through his mind about me dating.

  “Oh. Starting to date again?” My breath catches in my chest as I wait for his answer. Honestly, Reid could date anyone in this town if he wanted to—despite what people say about the curse. If he asked someone out, they wouldn’t even blink before saying yes. He’s the whole package.

  “No.” He shakes his head and chuckles. “How could I possibly date when I’m still hung up on you?”

  “Wh-what?” I stutter in surprise. “But you broke up with me. If you were still hung up on me, why would you do that?”

  He drags his hand over his face. “At this point, I don’t even know. But what I do know is that I want what we had.”

  He can’t be serious. I don’t think I’ve ever met a more confusing man.

  I shake my head. “You can’t keep running so hot and cold with me, Reid. Don’t you see how messed up that is? You want me, and then you don’t, and now you do? My heart can’t deal with that kind of indecision. This isn’t figuring out which spices you should put in a recipe—this is my heart you’re dealing with.”

  “I know.” He takes a step forward, and I move back, letting him know to keep his distance. He stops, understanding, and says, “I’m going to make it right, Eve.”

  Not sure what to say, I reach into my pocket and pull out some cash. I quickly do some math in my head and then hand him his payment for the lobsters. “That should be the right amount,” I say. His hand grazes mine as he takes the cash, lighting up a part of me that’s gone gray and dull.

  He lingers and I let him. “I will make this right,” he says again, this time with more force. He pockets the money and goes back to his truck. “I’ll see you later, Eve.”

  Lord help me, I don’t think my heart can take another roller coaster from Reid.

  “Eve, is that you?” Reid calls out over the racket of the kitchen installation as I step into the restaurant. I look up and see him in the loft, hanging over the railing and waving frantically, as if he didn’t just see me yesterday. “Come up here—I want to show you something.”

  Applications in hand, I head up the stairs that lead to the loft, marveling at the iron handrail and the open staircase, which leaves the space feeling airy rather than like a big block of stairs. When I reach the loft, which I’m surprised to find is much quieter, Reid greets me with a big smile, his large body blocking the view of what will soon be my permanent office space.

  “Close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

  “Duh, because I have a surprise for you.”

  “Did you really just say duh?”

  Chuckling, he nods. “Humor me and close them.”

  “I don’t know my way around the space with my eyes closed. What if I fall over the railing?”

  “It’s insulting you think I’d let that happen. Here.” He takes the applications from me, sets them to the side, and then wraps his hands around mine, his large palms eclipsing my small ones. “I got you. Now close your eyes.”

  Lost in the feel of his hands holding mine, I don’t remember to argue before I’m closing my eyes and allowing him to guide me through the loft space. My feet shuffle against the hardwood before my steps soften, and I realize we’re walking over a rug now. The smells of fresh paint and new furniture surround me, and with them, there’s a hint of Reid’s familiar, fresh scent.

  “Okay, are you ready?”

  “I’m warning you—if I open my eyes and find you naked, I’m kicking you in the crotch and leaving.”

  I’m wrapped in his deep laugh. “If I was naked, I wouldn’t be cooking—I’d be a magician who could disrobe while holding someone’s hands. That’s a million-dollar Vegas show.”

  “Or a quick ticket to jail.”

  “Or that.” He chuckles. “But rest assured, I’m not naked. So go ahead, open your eyes.”

  My eyes flutter open, and the first thing I see is Reid’s excited face, smile stretching from cheek to cheek, eyes sparkling with pure joy.

  The next thing I see is the space.

  My heart rate picks up as I take it all in. Large white desk with a matching white desk chair. Plush gray, white, and teal carpet, large built-in shelves and cabinets behind the desk with gold hardware. A brand-new Mac sitting pretty on the desk’s glass top, and a nameplate in gold and white staring back at me.

  MISS EVE ROBERTS.

  “Happy graduation. Do you like it?”

  I don’t answer right away; I can’t. Instead, I walk around the desk and drag my fingers over the cool surface. It’s . . . it’s perfect. A bouquet of fresh peonies rests on the shelves, pictures of me, Eric, and Reid are framed and perfectly placed, a large wooden sign with the words BOSS BABE inscribed on it is hung on the wall to the left.

  It’s more than I could have ever dreamed of.

  Tears fill my eyes as I finally look up at Reid. “It’s so perfect, more than I deserve.”

  “You deserve more, but this is what I could put together at the moment. We can add to it once you get familiar with the hustle of the restaurant, but I figured this is a good start for now. And that empty frame over there is for your diploma.”

  “This is a perfect start. This is so thoughtful and wonderful.”

  He points to the computer. “Everything you’re going to need is downloaded and set up. The Wi-Fi password is ReidIsHot. Unfortunately, that can’t change.”

  I smile, tears still brimming in my eyes. “All of this is really for me?”

  He nods. “Yup. I talked to my dad and told him that since you’re the brain of the business, you should have a comfortable space, especially if we’re going to lean on you for everything. He agreed. I worked on the loft this week. I wanted to make sure it was ready before opening.”

  “You did all of this yourself?”

  “Well, Rogan helped. Even though I like to think I know how to build things, the shelving turned out to be trickier than I expected. I went up to Pottsmouth yesterday to pick up the desk and saw that sign at an art gallery up there and had to have it. You’re our boss babe. A strict but fair boss and one hell of a babe.” He winks, and a smile pulls at my lips.

  “I can’t believe you did this.” I look him in the eyes. “Thank you, Reid. This means a lot to me. It’s truly a dream come true.”

  “Well, happy graduation and congratulations on the new job.” He falls silent for a second. “I really wish I handled everything differently between us, but I realize I can’t go back and change that—all I can do is move forward and try to make things right.” He gestures around the office. “I wish I’d known this was what you wanted when we first started dating. I wish I’d known more about your dreams, about where you wanted to go with your life. But now that I do, I want to be there to support you. I know you’re going to do amazing things up here, Eve.”

  With my throat dry and tight, my emotions heightened, I try to be grateful, but all I can muster without bursting into tears is a small smile and a nod.

  “Well, I have to go. Meeting Eric to go over the kitchen installations. I�
�ll catch you later.”

  As he starts down the stairs, I tell myself to call out to him, to pull him back up to the space so I can give him a hug, a proper thank-you, but I’m frozen in place, frozen in awe, in pure appreciation of what he’s done.

  This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, hands down, and it was all Reid.

  He said he was going to make things right. Well, this was a giant leap in that direction.

  Knock. Knock.

  I glance at my door and then the time. Ten o’clock. Did Eric lose his key? He was going out on a date with some girl he met on a dating app. I love my brother, but I also know him well enough to assume he probably won’t be coming back to the apartment tonight, not when his nerves are taking over. We are just over a week away from opening, and he’s getting jittery. When he’s like that, he needs to get his energy out somehow—and that means going home with his date.

  So who else could be at my door?

  As my suspicion builds, I set my notebook down and open the door to find Reid standing on the other side. He’s leaning against the doorjamb, holding a bag, and sporting a heart-melting grin.

  “Hey.”

  I give him a once-over: casual Adidas Joggers, a tight-fitting, long-sleeve T-shirt, a backward hat—casual but yummy.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He holds up the bag. “Late-night delivery. I heard you were working hard on final preparations and thought you might need some fuel.”

  I cock my head to the side. “Are you trying to butter me up, Reid Knightly?”

  “Yup,” he answers unapologetically before stepping over the threshold and making himself at home. He kicks off his shoes and heads straight for my kitchen, where he pulls down two plates.

  Two.

  Not just one but two. Which means he plans on staying, at least for a little bit.

  I walk up behind him and try to peer around his shoulder to see what he brought, but he boxes me out. “Watch it—it’s a surprise, so why don’t you go sit down and chill while I get everything ready?”

  “Get everything ready? It’s not just something you pull out and eat?”