Page 37 of Solitude

She surprises the fuck out of me by nodding slowly before saying, “You’ll have to find me first.”

Not only am I patient, but I love a good challenge, too.

Winnie

The place that started it all.

Just like two years ago, my feet brush the dirt underneath the swing as I push myself back and forth slowly. I’ve been waiting over an hour, my nerves building with every passing minute. The sun has set, and now the moonis offering the only bit of light that illuminates the park at this hour. A few clouds have gathered, but I don’t pay them any attention.

My mind is somewhere else, impatiently waiting for Beck to show up.

He’ll be here.

Checking my phone every thirty seconds while telling myself to stop acting so crazy. Refusing to look back at the park entrance because that won’t make him magically appear. Giving in because I’m weak. Disappointing myself repeatedly when he isn’t standing there. I’ve repeated this cycle for over an hour, and I’m just about to call it and head back home to my new book—thank you, Edith—when a voice cuts through the silence and startles me.

“Shit…” Beck looks down at his feet, arms spread wide when I spin around. He meets my wide eyes as I stand up, and the sheepish closed-mouth smile he shoots me is adorable. “Almost fell.”

Swallowing, I step away from the swing. I stop almost immediately. “Are you okay?”

Beck waves me off and continues over to where I’m standing once he’s confident in his equilibrium again. “I’m fine… That’s what I get for thinking I could be James Bond knowing damn well I’m more of a Kronk, ya know?”

“I don’t know…” I trail off, a small smile on my lips as I gaze at him. “You could be Bond, I think.”

He collapses on the swing beside mine and looks up at me. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Grabbing the metal chains of the swing, I plop back down and resume my slow back and forth, but Beck pushes off the ground hard. He moves quick and fast several times, his legs pumping fluidly, before jumping out of the seat. He lands on his feet with a wide grin on his full lips with those dimples on his cheeks.

Déjà vu.

I lick my lips and pick at the hem of my cotton shorts. “How many places did you check before you came here?”

Beck hums and closes the distance between us in a few slow strides. He places his hands above mine on the chains and leans down a foot from my face with a lopsided grin.

I have to physically keep my hands from leaving the chains to touch the dimples in his cheeks.

This isn’t the first time today that I’ve been this close to Beck, and my fingers tighten around the chains as I peer up at him with wide eyes. I can see just how blue his eyes are. Like sapphires.

I’m not sure what possessed me to enter that bathroom knowing he was on the other side of the door. I’m not sure why I moved so close to him, let my face hover inches in front of his, touched my shoes to the tips of his boots. I don’t know why I did any of it truthfully. Now my heart is beating so fast I’m worried for my health. All because Beck gave me a small piece of himself, whether he realized it or not.

A small chunk of the man that’s occupied too much space in my heart for too long, and that small moment of vulnerability seemingly drove me insane. Knowing there’sparts of him that are undiscovered despite the years I’ve watched him.

Beckett Hale seems like every man on the cover of one of my favorite books. The man in the stories that’s utterly obsessed with his girl. The men that would move mountains for her. The men that would kill and ultimately die for her. I try not to think too hard about the potential behind Beck feeling that way for me.

That would be crazy.

He whispers into the space between us, “Worried I wouldn’t show up, Winnie?”

My tongue feels thick in my mouth, and I take a couple of tries before my mouth actually opens and a singular word tumbles out. “Yes.”

I surprise myself at the outburst of honesty. It’s only with Beck that he seems to create a space that feels safe to justbe. He’s the only person I’ve considered telling about the letters taunting me in my desk drawer. He’s the only one who has any clue just how bad my parents are. He’s the only one who can rile me up by just existing, and I’ve barely scratched the surface on what it is to truly know Beckett Hale.

It’s never occurred to me he could be anything other than all the things I’ve built him up to be in my head.

There’s no sane, logical reason I should consider him to be a confidant or a beacon of safety.

Beck spends a full minute letting his eyes roam over my face before he pushes away and rounds the swing. He grabs the chains below my hands again and pulls me back.He pauses when my back presses against his chest and asks, “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

---