“She said to get ‘a ton of batter and whatever looks fun,’” I reminded her.
“‘Fun’ by Bae’s standards usually means something absurdly colorful or covered in sugar,” Beck replied dryly, but there was afondness in her voice that softened the words. “It’s a miracle she didn’t burn down the kitchen this time.”
I laughed, grabbing a bag of chocolate chips and tossing it into the cart. “You sound like you’ve been through this before.”
“Oh, countless times,” Beck said with a mock sigh, her eyes scanning the shelves. “I think it’s her creative spirit. She approaches baking the same way an artist approaches a blank canvas—except the canvas usually ends up inedible.”
We turned into the baking aisle, the shelves lined with every kind of mix, frosting, and sprinkle imaginable. Beck reached for a box of cookie batter and handed it to me, pausing as she glanced at her phone.
“Work?” I asked.
“No,” she said quickly, tucking the phone away. But the way her cheeks turned pink gave her away.
I smirked. “Rhodes?”
Ah yes Beck’s mystery boy she’s been head over heels for since the summer she’d met him on the island. She’d hid him from us for years. Until he’d earned his way into knowing her family.
Her blush deepened, and she rolled her eyes, though there was no real annoyance behind it. “Yes, it’s Rhodes. He’s checking in on a patient and wanted to let me know he’d be home late.”
“Home?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.
Her blush spread to her ears. “We’re moving in together after the holidays,” she admitted, her tone matter-of-fact, though the faint smile on her lips betrayed her excitement.
“That’s amazing, Beck,” I said, meaning it. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, glancing down at the cart to avoid my gaze. “He’s… he’s everything I didn’t think I needed. Calm, steady. You know, not like me at all.”
“He’s a doctor, right?”
She nodded. “A surgeon. He keeps telling me I need to ‘relax’ more.” She snorted softly. “Like that’s even possible.”
I smiled, watching the way her face softened whenever she talked about him. It was such a stark contrast to the Beck I used to know—the sharp, guarded girl who didn’t let anyone in.
“You’re in love with him,” I said teasingly, and her head shot up, her eyes wide.
“I didn’t say that,” she said quickly.
“You didn’t have to,” I replied, laughing. “Your face says it all.”
“Okay, fine,” she muttered, her cheeks flaming. “Maybe I am. But if you tell Wynter or Bae, I’ll deny it.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” I promised, holding up an imaginary lock over my lips.
We continued down the aisle, tossing in another bag of flour and some colorful sprinkles for good measure. Beck’s usual composed demeanor had returned, but I could still see the faint smile lingering at the edges of her lips.
“So,” she said after a moment, her tone shifting. “How did you and Wynter finally get together? Or do I have to piece it together from Bae’s dramatic retellings?”
I laughed, leaning on the cart handle as we rounded a corner. “It just… happened. One day, he stopped being the boy next door and became something more.”
Beck raised an eyebrow. “That’s vague. Come on, give me the real story.”
“Fine,” I said, grinning. “I wanted to learn how to skate, he offered to teach me and then one thing led to another. He said, he started to see me differently or whatever that means.”
“And you?” She wondered, “ That must’ve been difficult to reckon with, considering you’d seen him in that light all along.”
“I know for certain I wanted it all along,” I admitted, my voice softening. “I just didn’t know how to say it.”
Beck smiled faintly, pulling the cart to a stop. “He’s always been careful with his heart, you know. Even when we were kids.”
