Page 114 of Home: Posy 5

As I shook my head, Beckham slowly and gently touched his fingertips to my chubby cheek. My lips parted under the gentle sparks warming my skin, and he smiled.

"You're already in our hearts, baby girl, and we can only hope we're in yours." Then, with determination, he said, "We'll make this work, Yolly. We need you, and you need us, and the Goddess in her wisdom brought us together."

"You're right, Becks. She did. And youarein my heart." I paused, inhaled courage, and exhaled fear so I could admit a long-buried secret. "To be honest, I've always had a crush on you two."

Imagine my shock when, instead of crowing about it and smirking or fist-bumping each other, both boys turned into statues for a second before they looked at each other, then back at me.

"Say that again," Bowie rasped.

"I've always had a crush—"

"No. Not that. The other part," Beckham demanded.

"You're in my heart—"

"My name, baby girl."

"Oh. Becks. Beckham. Beckham James Hall."

Tears flooded his eyes at the same time a brilliant smile lit up his face.

"You can tell us apart?" Bowie breathed.

"Of course. I've always known which one of you is which." Confused by their reaction, I tilted my head.

"Baby girl," Beckham said in a broken voice.

Next thing I knew, he had one arm under my butt and the other around my waist and took me with him as he stood up. I yelped in surprise.

How is he lifting me up? I weigh two hundred pounds!

"You're going to hurt yourself!" I shrieked as he adjusted his hold so both his arms were under my big butt. "I'm too heavy!"

"Baby girl, if you're not comfortable, tell me and I'll put you down, but if you're only worried about me, don't be. I could hold you like this all day. I bench press five hundred pounds with ease."

"I'm stronger, Yolly," Bowie purred. "I benched five-fifty on Friday and didn't break a sweat."

"I could have, too, if I wanted," Beckham retorted with an eye roll. "Yolly? Are you okay with this? You can tell us no. We won't get mad or anything."

"I like it," I admitted shyly, although I still felt a little awkward to be basically sitting on his arms. "You're so hard."

Dead silence, and I realized what I said and could have died.

"No, I meant, your body is so hard. Like, I mean, muscles! You have so many hard muscles!" I frantically tried to explain, but feared I was only making it worse. "I'm so soft and squishy and you're not! That's what I'm trying to say!"

"Relax, baby girl," Bowie chuckled. "We know what you meant. You're our squishy toasted marshmallow."

"Toasted marshmallow?" I squawked.

"Your skin is the exact color of how I like my toast," he said with a shrug. "And you just called yourself squishy. Therefore, you are a toasted marshmallow."

Giggling, I hid my face in Beckham's throat and Bowie chuckled again.

"Can you hug me, toasted marshmallow?" Beckham asked.

Nodding, I slid my arms around his neck and laid my head on his chest. I'd never been this close to a boy other than Bram and my father, and certainly not in this situation. Then Bowie joined us, pressing his front against my back and resting his chin on my shoulder, and I felt like I was wrapped in their strength and scent.

"You smell so nice," I whispered.

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