The Third Best Thing

by Hughes, Maya

  My night was restless.

  My bed felt empty, missing the warmth of someone else in the room. Not just anyone—Jules.

  My mind wandered to the curly-haired brunette across the street.

  I flipped on my side and pulled the shade open, even though the morning sun would blind me and despite the fact that it made me feel like a stalker.

  Jules had her shade down. Did it feel weird for her to be sleeping in a bed alone after the two nights beside me? Was she tossing and turning or sleeping soundly with one of her legs thrown over a pillow, wishing it was me just as much as I did? Get a grip, man.

  And this was why I never stayed over with anyone I slept with. These tender feelings shot to the surface way too quickly in general, and especially with someone like Jules. And she’d made her stance on what exactly we were abundantly clear. I was a great stand-in. Someone fun to hang with, but not anyone she was interested in for more than that.

  Our class together was in two days; forty-three hours until the season opener, and with the pressure in my life mounting, the disappointments stacking up one after another, I kept staring out my window at the window I’d seen a thousand times before. Now I wanted to see into and be on the other side of it. Yeah, no psycho stalkers here.

  Suddenly, being friends with Jules didn’t feel like enough.

  “Night, Jules.” The semester would start and I’d be more than busy enough to keep thoughts of Jules from invading my mind. Piece of cake. That made me think of the double fudge four layer cake with the whipped cream cheese frosting she’d made.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my face with my pillow. I was crushing hard and I didn’t want to make things weird for her. Tomorrow was a new day.

  * * *

  With my class schedule in hand, I wandered the aisles of the bookstore wishing I’d kept some of that agent money to pay for books. At this point, I could’ve bought a new car with how much I’d spent on textbooks for the past four years.

  My football scholarship covered tuition, room and board, but books? I was on my own.

  I signed someone’s Fulton U jersey with the tag still on it from downstairs where the clothes section was.

  They held it out for Keyton to sign.

  “If only we could pay for all this stuff with autographs.” He handed it back to the guy who turned around holding up the jersey like his new prized possession.

  “Do they take a kidney as a deposit for these things?” I pulled another book off the shelf. Everyone was back on campus now, which meant the level of recognition shot through the roof, especially with the season starting in a day.

  Keyton switched his blue plastic basket from one hand to the other. “Not enough. They’d probably want both.” He grabbed a sketching pad off the shelf of the aisle we wandered down.

  I peered inside his basket. There were packs of different types of pencils in there along with some colored pencils. “You draw?”

  He tugged a book from the shelf and dropped it on top of his supplies. “Sometimes.”

  “Will you draw me like one of your French girls?” I batted my eyelashes at him and was rewarded with a knuckle-driving punch to the shoulder.

  “Jesus Christ, dude. You trying to knock me into next week?”

  “Shit, sorry. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

  I rubbed my arm. “Don’t worry about it. One hell of a punch.”

  “Is that Jules?” He changed the subject so quickly my head snapped up. Also because of the name in question.

  “Where?” I looked around for her horn-rimmed sweetness.

  “Right, there. Hiding behind the shelves at the end of the row.”

  I ducked down and spotted her trying to look inconspicuous and at a vantage point where she absolutely had to have seen us.

  “We can see you, Frenchie.”

  She shot straight up, banged her head on the shelf, and her basket tumbled to the ground. Down on all fours, she scrambled to pick up all her stuff and rubbed her head.

  I bridged the space between us and bent down, grabbing some of the books that had spilled out all over the floor.

  “Berk, what are you doing here?” She said it like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

  “Waterskiing. How’s your head?” I curled my fingers at my side to resist the urge to rub her sore spot.

  She blew a strand of hair out of her face and rubbed the side of her head. “Damn shelves, jumping out of nowhere.” Shifting the basket, she swung it back up into her arms.

  “They’ve been known to do that. Hit and runs left and right in this place.”

  Her wince turned into a smile and she stuck her tongue out at me. And I shoved my book-laden basket in front of me as thoughts of what her tongue would feel and taste like on mine filled my head.

  Keyton leaned against the bookcase with one arm against the top shelf.

  “We’re wondering if the cashier would take an organ as a down payment for these books.”

  “I don’t think that would cover it.”

  She laughed at Keyton. Was he more of a guy she felt like was on her level? Someone who she’d want something long term with? An irrational jolt of jealousy zinged through me. I tackled it to the ground. She’s not a freaking bone and I’m not a rabid dog. She can laugh at whatever she wants. I love the sound of her laugh.

  Inching closer, I bumped into her basket. “What are you doing today?”

  “Avery from B&B wanted me to come in at noon to start my internship. I might stop by Elle’s and pester her, but she’s crazy busy with all the big events happening right now.”

  “Nix sounded like he was ready to deck someone last time I talked to him. Somebody was giving her a hard time.” I dragged my finger over the spine of the books on the shelf like I was checking them out, but I wasn’t. I was checking her out.

  “Yeah, this PR and events big wig guy.” She ducked to the bottom shelf and grabbed a book, slipping it into her basket.

  “Are you going to their place to watch the game?” Maybe I could give her a ride over.

  Keyton stood beside me observing like this was National Geographic. I shot him a get lost glare.

  “Probably. We’ll see. All you guys are going and there’s not loads of room in their apartment.” She laughed and checked the books on the other side of the aisle.

  “There’s always room for you, Jules. Of course we all want you there.”

  Her smile brightened.

  With pointed eye directions from me, Keyton finally took the damn hint.

  “Oh, right. I’m going to go look at the art supplies. I’ll catch up to you two later.”

  Jules and I made it to the section marked for our class. I handed her the course packet and took one for mine, wincing at the price.

  “Did you—”

  “Can I—”

  We both started at the same time. She smirked. “Go ahead.”

  “No, you go.”

  “Berk Vaughn!” an excited voice shouted over the bookstore din like a glass smashing in the center of a crowded restaurant. “Oh my god. We saw Keyton and he said you were over here.”

  Thanks a lot, man.

  The girl’s face had that familiar, excited look. Oh shit. There was more than one girl here.

  I barely had time to get my basket out of my hands before the more aggressive girl took a running leap and hit me.

  This shit never happened to Nix or Reece.

  “Sorry for being in the way.” Jules took another step back.

  Someone pulled out their phone and started taking pictures as she smashed her cheek against mine, knocking Jules over.

  “Hey, watch where the hell you’re going,” I ground out to the girl holding up her iPad to take a picture or record a whole documentary, while trying to move out of the vise grip on my arms.

  The fans dragged Keyton over from wherever he was hiding and forced him into picture time.

  I kept trying to get Jules’ attention and untangle myself fr
om the fan octopus without stiff arming anyone. Maybe Jules would bail me out. Drag me away from the growing circus as more people showed up with Fulton U swag for signing and chattered about the draft and Reece’s first game right around the corner.

  And then she was gone. The gentle swing of her ponytail and delicious sway of her hips disappeared down the escalator. She’d left me, and I tried to pretend that didn’t hurt, but it did. Not to say the circus didn’t get old real fast, but it would’ve been a hell of a lot better with her at my side instead of the thirty snapping wolves.

  I might just need to make a pit stop at a certain bakery later today. And it was somewhere she couldn’t run away from me.

  16

  Jules

  After peeking out my blinds for a solid twenty minutes, I’d made a mad dash for my escape from my house. Berk had already caught me once trying to avoid him; twice in a row would make it even more painful. Why’d he have to be so cute? And gorgeous? And the center of attention?

  Not that I’d be able to avoid him for long. The smells from anything I baked wafted across the street like a cartoon, straight into his nostrils. It would only be a matter of time before he was back at my house, but I needed a little more time to get myself together before the Berk Bombardment began again. More time to shore up the sandbags in my stomach to stop those butterflies in their tracks.

  “Where you going, Jules?”

  I yelped and jumped. “Could you not do that?”

  Zoe sat on the couch with her computer on one side of her. “Do what?”

  “Sneak up on me.”

  “I’ve been sitting here this whole time.”

  “I’m not used to other people being here. I’m going out.” I turned and ran smack into a bare chest. Peeling myself off Mr. Hardbody, I stared up at him.

  He was in a towel again. One of mine. “Do you own pants?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged and smiled, walking past me with two bottles of water.

  “Plan on wearing them anytime soon?”

  “Eventually.” He flopped onto the couch and lifted his foot, propping his leg up.

  The front door slammed behind me. I think that was the fastest I’d ever moved in my life. Watching a full penis promenade wasn’t on my list of things to do today.

  I showed up at the B&B with my apron, not really sure if I’d need it. We hadn’t gone over everything during the tour, which had mainly been Max shoving more food into her face.

  Using the code Avery had given me, I tugged the back door open and flood-light levels of brightness slammed into me.

  Shielding my eyes, I stood in the doorway waiting for the aliens to beam me up.

  “Yay, you’re here.” Avery’s voice sliced through my preparations for probing.

  I walked inside, trying to blink away the blindness.

  She bounded up to me in her cap-sleeved B&B top and jeans with her hair piled up on top of her head.

  “What’s going on?”

  “There’s been a slight change in plans.” She pulled me into her office and laid it all out.

  “They’re doing a reality show about the bakery?”

  “Not a reality show like they follow us around all the time, but they’re going to do episodes where I make my most popular menu items and then post them up every week or a couple times a week. I have no idea.” She dragged her hands through her hair.

  I knew that feeling all too well. Taking her hand I gave it a squeeze.

  “You’ve got this, Avery. It’ll be amazing.”

  “Standing in front of a sea of lights and cameras isn’t really my thing.”

  “I don’t think it’s something most people like, but you’ll do an awesome job.”

  “Sorry that this is your first day. I’d have called you earlier, but I knew you were away for the weekend and I didn’t realize they’d be here as early as I was to get everything set up. Holy crap there are a lot of lights.”

  “My face was 2.5 seconds away from melting off.”

  “But you’re here now and I won’t be alone. Thank god.” She clung onto my arm. “Everyone else is actually getting work done and I figured since you’re new and I’m walking through the recipes anyway, it would be a good way for you to learn.”

  My stare went on for way too long as I cycled through all the reasons I shouldn’t be in front of the camera. Especially a camera that would be broadcasting my image to who knew how many people.

  The little voice of Dr. Schuller came ringing back. I’d already run away once and I couldn’t leave Avery hanging.

  “I’ll be right there at your side.”

  She let out a sharp breath and her shoulders relaxed a millimeter. “Thank you.” She threw her arms around me and squeezed me so tight my arms started to go numb. Max strolled into the office. “She got you to do it, huh? Did the big pouty eyes and squeezed your hand?”

  “If you’re talking about the video thing then yes. What about you?” I rubbed my chin. “With a mouth as big as yours, it seems like you’d have been a perfect fit.”

  Max’s eyes got wide and she braced her hands on the chair, staring at me with her mouth wide open. And looked between me and Avery before letting out a belly laugh that vibrated the air in the room. The three of us laughed and I wiped at my forehead, happy I hadn’t misjudged the room with that one.

  “Oh, shit, Ave. You pick them well.” Max wiped at the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She was the kind of bad-girl beautiful that made guys fall all over themselves to get their shot at cracking through her rock hard shell—and probably ended up cradling their bruised balls instead.

  “I curse way too much to be considered a Bread & Butter brand ambassador. Avery would shit a brick if I burned myself and let out a string of four-letter words.”

  “Instead she’s stuck with me.” I’d meant that to come off a lot more lighthearted than it did. It fell to the floor between us all like a lobbed dummy grenade.

  “Gah, I’m so sick of you pretty girls playing the I’m-so-plain card.” Max clutched her hands to her chest and batted her eyelashes. “Oh no, no one will like me with my cute glasses and giant boobs. Whatever will they think?” She unclasped her hands and dropped the sugar sweet voice. “You’re perfect for this, I can already tell.”

  “How?” I lifted an eyebrow.

  “First off, I’ve tasted your stuff and it’s amazing, so you know your way around the kitchen. Second, you’ve got that young, bubbly personality with a hint of snark, and you look so damn cute you’re about to send me into a diabetic coma. It’s a total I’ll-bake-you-muffins-and-whip-up-some-chicken-noodle-soup-if-you’re-sick look.”

  “Thank you?” Compliments somehow dripped off her tongue like insults and I wasn’t sure how to react.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. I’ve got sort of a prickly personality. You’re still taking the job, right?”

  “I think Avery’s getting my uniform now.”

  Avery grimaced. “Crap, I almost forgot. When I say uniform what I mean is shirt. It gets super hot in here once we start baking, so you’d freaking burn up in that long sleeve, what the hell is that? A thermal?”

  My eyes widened and I tried to play it off like I wasn’t in practically a sweater when September had just rolled in.

  “If you can survive even five minutes with Max and not go running for the hills, you can handle anything.” Avery rummaged around in a box of t-shirts and I prayed for once that she wouldn’t have anything in my size. Just what I needed—to be standing in front of cameras with my bingo wings flapping in the wind.

  Sorry, Dr. Schuller. I meant my strong arms that allow me to lift my way through life and carry the weight of my burdens.

  “Yes, found one. This should fit you.”

  She held up a pastel pink top with short sleeves—very, very short sleeves—and the B&B logo printed in black on the front.

  Don’t panic, Jules. Don’t panic. Just don’t think about the last time your arms saw sunlight and hope you
don’t burn under those big camera lights out there.

  “You can change in my bathroom.” Avery pointed to the small door I hadn’t even noticed before. “I’ll wait. I don’t want to go back out there alone.”

  “Great.” That sounded as enthusiastic as a fish walking into a sushi bar. With a thumbs up, I ducked in the bathroom and changed. Folding my shirt up, I pushed aside the fact I was going to be on camera in a t-shirt. I’d made it through the engagement party gauntlet in a freaking flapper dress. This was a slam freaking dunk.

  I was feeling more naked than I had in a long time as Avery and I walked back out into the bakery. Nearly tripping over a bunch of cables laid in front of the office door, I righted myself and followed Avery to the camera crew getting everything ready. Tripods, cables, even more lights.

  “Look who I found.” Max hopped up on one of the counters and took a bite out of a brownie.

  Avery and I followed Max’s outstretched hand and my butterflies burst out of hiding.

  “Berk, what are you doing here?”

  I tugged at the edges of my sleeves. That whole bathroom pep talk went poof in an instant and I didn’t have any liquid courage as back up.

  He’d never seen my arms before.

  “You said you’d be here today and I needed to pick a few things up for the guys, so I thought I’d swing by. Figured, maybe you could give me the employee discount.”

  “I’ll give you something, all right.” Max wasn’t even trying to hide her gratuitous ogling of Berk’s ass. And what a fine one it was.

  “You didn’t have to come.” My voice was all breathy like a screen siren from the 40s.

  “That’s so sweet.” Avery bumped my shoulder. “They’re still getting set up. I’ll let you know when we’re ready.”

  Berk was confusing me. I’d made it clear I wasn’t expecting anything from him, but here he was.

  “I didn’t want to miss your first day, plus Marisa attempted cooking at the house and I want to avoid the salmonella blast zone before my game on Saturday.”