Page 2 of Beck

“Beer?” he asked Kole when they reached the bar.

“Sure. Do you want me to ask if anyone else wants one?”

Beck shook his head. “I’ll get them all one, anyway. If someone doesn’t want one, I’m sure Dallas will have it.” He grinned, finally finding some semblance of control. He hated it when he lost it like that.

Kole snorted. “I’m sure he will.”

While they waited for the bartender to fill their order, Beck asked, “I can’t remember what you said earlier. Are you heading straight back to Whitby after the event finishes on Sunday, or are you staying longer?”

Joey and Ethan had been trying to persuade Kole to move down to London for weeks, but Kole was resistant for some reason. Joey was ready to give Kole a job in the shop as soon as he said yes, and Beck could see him fitting in well. He wasn’t a tattoo artist—yet—but his designs would make a tremendous impact on them, both as artists and as a business.

“I haven’t decided. I’m staying until Monday at least because I don’t fancy driving all that way after a long day here, but further than that, I’ve not decided.” He held up his hand. “I know youall want me here, but it’s a big decision. I don’t have what Ethan has, and it makes it more difficult.”

“I can imagine it does with having family up there. You’d miss them.”

Kole nodded, his mouth curving gently. “I will.”

Beck didn’t mention that slip. The present tense of the word instead of the possibility. Maybe he’d already decided, yet he was worried about taking that step. Beck didn’t bring it to light, and instead, focused on carrying the tray the bartender had given him for all the drinks.

“Come on. Let’s water the rabble.” He grinned and followed Kole as he led the way, clearing a path so Beck didn’t get the tray knocked from his hands.

“Ah, I wondered where you two had gone,” Ethan said when Kole slipped into the booth and Beck followed, placing the tray down. “And now I know.”

“You know me. Dancing always makes me thirsty,” Kole said, and Beck glanced at him for the excuse. Kole didn’t meet his gaze and passed him a drink instead.

“I can’t stay much longer, Joey,” Ethan said with a yawn. “I won’t be any good to anyone tomorrow.”

Joey dropped a kiss on his lips. “We’ll head back after this one.” He transferred his gaze to Beck, his eyes narrowing as he studied him. Beck refused to squirm under the scrutiny and raised his eyebrows.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Joey leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, and gave Beck his no-nonsense look. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

Beck crossed his arms over his chest and leaned them on the table, too. “I’m fine. Are you ready for tomorrow?”

“Stop changing the subject.”

“I didn’t realise we were on a subject.” Beck gave his trademark grin, but Joey didn’t soften, and Beck’s front was crumbling. “I’m doing good. I’m looking forward to the event.”

Joey stared at him for a long moment and then nodded slowly. “Yeah, me, too,” he said, seeming to let his previous worries go. At least for now. He’d circle around to them again at some point. Maybe not that night, but at some point soon, Joey would get him to spill his guts—well, what he thought was Beck’s guts. Beck’s stomach churned at the thought. All the people around him believed he’d been completely honest with them about his past, but other than telling them he’d been in foster care and some of the awesome stories that had happened along the way, there was a huge part of that time he refused to tell anyone.

No one needed to be burdened with those memories except for him.

They spoke about the event again, none of their minds far from it, and even shared a toast to Elliott, Joey’s best friend who dies the previous year, someone who was very close to all their hearts. And then Joey slipped his arm around Ethan and tugged the sleepy man from the booth. Saying goodbye, he watched them until they disappeared and then focused on his beer. He peeled the label off the front and tried breathing through the need to fly out of the bar and straight into a scalding shower.

“Hey, do you want to stay any longer?” Kole asked from beside him.

Beck glanced at him, noticing his lifted chin, and shook his head. Ethan had shared something with the Life in Ink crew about Kole that the man probably wouldn’t want known, but it helped them know how he was feeling. Whenever Kole lifted his chin, he was embarrassed about something, and Beck hated seeing that.

“I’m getting tired now,” he said, though it was a lie. He doubted he’d sleep anytime soon.

Kole gave a small smile. “Fancy taking a walk back to the hotel with me?”

Beck didn’t read it as a come-on at all, but he understood what Kole wasn’t saying—he wanted company for the journey somewhere he’d never been before, and after the physical assault he experienced, Beck wasn’t surprised.

“Sure.” He focused on Dallas. “Yo, Dallas! We’re heading back. Make sure you get at least a few hours of sleep. Please.” He stared at him, Dallas’s eyes bleary and pupil-blown, but the man nodded. Slightly appeased because he knew how much alcohol Dallas could drink and still be coherent, he nodded back and followed Kole towards the exit, looking out for Finn but not seeing him.

The cool night air reminded him he’d left his jacket at the hotel, but he shoved his hands into his pockets and lifted his shoulders to his ears as if that would help warm him. “Fuck, it’s cold.”

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