Page 69 of The Escape Plan

“Me neither,” adds Nori.

Becks shrugs. “Well, I’ve never had it from a can. But as they say, there’s a first time for everything.”

We each crack open a can and hold it up.

“Sláinte,” Becks declares.

“Come again?”

“Cheers, in Gaelic.”

“Sláinte!” we all cry in unison, slamming our cans together.

I take a sip and immediately regret it.

Guinness is disgusting. Like, super gross.

I try not to gag as I set down the can, wiping the foam from my mouth.

Yuck.

I see Nori wince in my peripheral vision and get the feeling that she’s not a fan either. But the boys sure seem to like it. As we continue to clean up, Cash and Becks sip on their cans. At some point, someone pairs their phone with the cafe’s Bluetooth, and upbeat pop music blares through the speakers as we laugh and joke together, recapping the highlights of the night.

Andrew and I never hung out with other couples like this—not that Becks and I are a couple, of course.

But Beckett has this breezy way about him that just seems to put everyone—me included—at ease.

I mean, Cash and Nori are both already treating Becks like he’s their lifelong friend.

It’s a nice feeling.

Beckett comes up beside me as I put away the last clean latte glass, and he slings a casual arm around me. “This was a good night,” he proclaims, and when I turn to look at him, I notice how loose his body language is, how bright and shiny his eyes are.

“Beckett McCarthy, are you a little drunk right now?”

His grin is equal parts sheepish and adorable. “I warned you I was an awful lightweight, didn’t I?”

This makes me laugh. “You did, I will admit.”

“Hey, Keeley?” His Irish lilt is even stronger than usual. “I want to say thank you.”

“What for?” I ask, turning fully to face him. I glance around to see if Cash and Nori are around, but they must be putting the last of the chairs into the back room because we’re currently very much alone.

He takes a step forward, his feet coming between my legs, his body hovering just an inch or two from mine as he effectively cages me in by the counter. His hand comes up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear, and his callused fingertips brush over the sensitive skin there as his eyes lock on mine. “For encouraging me to play tonight. For calming my nerves before I went up there. For buying Guinness and pretending to like it when you clearly hate it.”

“Busted,” I whisper, biting my lip as I hold his gaze.

“You had to have at least one flaw,” he says, his grin crooked, his hair mussed, his eyes sparkly.

“Believe me, I have many.”

“I don’t know about that,” he says, his voice low.

His fingertips graze the nape of my neck?—

“Annnnd that should do it! We’re all cleaned up and good to go.”

Cash’s voice fills the room as he and Nori reappear, looking a little mussed themselves, which makes me smirk. Beckett jerks backwards a little too fast, almost losing his footing as he stumbles slightly, then rights himself.

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