Page 54 of Solitude

When I announced I was visiting Beck in Texas.

My relationship with the “good-for-nothing neighborhood trash” was too much for my mother’s delicate sensibilities. She’d given me an ultimatum that I’d refused, so maybe she didn’t kick me out. I guess in the grand scheme of things I decided to leave, but it didn’t have to be that way.

I don’t know if I’ll ever truly understand why it came to that, why my parents hated me and everyone in the Hollow, why they insisted on staying and making me miserable. I’ve decided to chalk it up to one of life’s great mysteries that I’ll probably never know the answers to.

Regardless, I have yet to tell Beck about it. It’s been a few weeks now that I’ve been living in the Fletcher’s guesthouse, but I haven’t been able to muster up the courage to admit out loud that my parents disapprove of my life choices so much they cut off all ties with me.

I haven’t heard from Lorelai or Colson since I packed my bags and left.

I spent the first week wallowing. I’m not ashamed to say that despite the fact that this development isn’t surprising in the least, but it still stings. Parents are supposed to be the two people in the world that love you no matter what.

Unconditional love.

I also haven’t had the opportunity to psychoanalyze what it means that I chose Beck without hesitation when Lorelei gave me the choice. Not a breath passed before I turned on my heel and began packing.

Now I’m standing in a massive airport named after a president I don’t know much about with knots in my hair and my sock slipping off my heel into my tennis shoe. I’m uncomfortable and overstimulated. I’ve never drank alcohol before, but I imagine this is where I’d say I really need a drink.

“Excuse me, Miss.”

I whirl around at the voice, ready to knee whoever just tapped my shoulder in the balls and run, but I stop short.

Beckett Hale stands in front of me in a weathered, white and orange UT ball cap and dark sunglasses despite the darkening sky. His mouth is set in a firm line, but I can see a faint twitch in the corners as I continue to stare at him. There’s a small, healing cut through his bottom lip that he must’ve gotten in the last day or two.

I play along. “Yes, sir? Can I help you?”

“I sure hope so,” he replies, dropping his voice lower, huskier, and I swallow. “I was hoping I could take you for a ride.”

I lift a brow when he slides his glasses down his nose, leans closer, and winks.

“Best ride of your life,” he tacks on.

My cheeks heat at the innuendo, and he finally takes pity on me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders andpulling me into his embrace. He buries his face in my neck, and I can feel the way he inhales deeply before placing a light kiss in the curve between my neck and shoulder.

“God, I missed you.”

Swallowing down my nerves, I card my fingers through his unruly hair and kiss the top of his head lightly just because it feels right. “I missed you, too.”

He lifts his head and shifts his sunglasses to the top of his head, two little waves of chocolate brown hair curling over his forehead in a way that makes me want to melt. Beck grabs my chin, searching my eyes for what I think is permission, then softly kisses me. Just enough pressure for me to feel the scabbed over skin on his lip to bite into my mouth, and I hate how much I like it.

How much I like feeling the little nuances on his body—all the scars and scrapes covering his golden skin.

He pulls away all too quickly, but then he’s grabbing my hand and the handle of my suitcase with a big grin as he leads me out of the airport.

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” he admits giddily as he bumps his arm into my shoulder.

“I honestly can’t believe I am, either.”

“Having second thoughts about me already, Winnie?”

“No!” I clear my throat, flushing as he laughs. “You know, it’s bad form to tease me when I flew in an airplane for the first time—all alone, I might add—to see you.”

A lady huffs as she steps around us, muttering about our slow pace as she taps away on her phone. Beck doesn’tpay her any mind though, opting to squeeze my hand then pull it up to his mouth and brush a kiss over my knuckles.

“All teasing isn’t bad.”

My brown furrows. “Huh?”

Beck stares straight ahead, but I catch a small ghost of a smile on his lips, like I’m not supposed to see it. He looks the opposite direction from me and clears his throat, smile vanishing.

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