Page 28 of Teach Me to Laugh

I said nothing as I poured my coffee and filled my plate with the breakfast that spit fire at me first thing. I said nothing, but my heart was saying all kinds of things as it fluttered and danced like a wild thing in my chest.

I ate in silence and Beckett ate with a grin that never slipped.

But silent or not, I was mentally cognizant enough to know that like it or not, I was slipping into like for Beckett Davis. I was slipping into like, and trust, and happiness.

I was slipping into sweet.

The rest of the week raced by in a whirl of class, work, and studying. I’d seen Beckett, of course, but we hadn’t watched an episode of our show since the night he picked me up from the Library where I’d been visiting Raina. By visiting Raina, I mean I was moaning and groaning about the man I lived with.

And then the man picked me up in his huge Alberta Man truck, giving me a night that obliterated every moan and groan I’d given to Raina.

By the time Friday night came and Beckett proposed we watch an episode before bed, I’d thought for sure he was nearing the point of dropping like a fly. The skin under his eyes had turned a dark shade of purple in evidence of his late nights studying. He looked exhausted and even his teasing grins came less. I didn’t like it; seeing Beckett so tired, but I had to admit that I loved spending time with him.

When I was with him, I wasn’t so alone.

When I was with Beckett, I felt safe.

So I didn’t tell him I was tired. I didn’t send him to bed because it was the best thing for him to do after the week of insanity he’d had. I didn’t close my door and slide into my sheets alone.

Instead, I proposed we get into our jammies and bring our blankets out to the couch. I proposed we watched not one episode, but instead challenged we get through a season.

Not even I had the juice for an entire season ofGame of Thrones,no matter how deeply I loved the series. But I challenged it. I did something I never imagined I would do just to spend more time feeling not so alone—and safe.

I manipulated.

When Beckett dropped his pillow down on the leather, I thanked the couch lords that Beckett chose to buy a giant sectional. I was already stretched out on the long arm with my blanket cocooning me.

“See you stole the best spot,” he accused, a slow grin forming.

“I gave you the whole couch. Now you can lie down and relax.”

“Now I can lie down and sleep.”

“You’re that tired?” I knew he was, but still I asked.

“I’ll make it.”

I felt guilty, but I couldn’t bring myself to stand and walk to my room. I missed spending time with him and I just wanted to feel not so alone tonight. I didn’t know why. I honestly didn’t have a reason, but I just couldn’t turn away from him. Not now. Not tonight.

So I snuggled deeper into my cocoon of blankets as Beckett settled on the couch beside me, his head close to my lap where he’d dropped his pillow.

By the second episode, my eyes were burning and Beckett was asleep. I decided as I hit the power on the remote and blackness flooded the room that I wasn’t going to sneak into my room like I should. I was going to cuddle down on the couch and share Beckett’s pillow with him. I was going to stay where I felt happy, and safe, and not so alone.

I was going to stay with Beckett.

I didn’t think on it any more than that. And as soon as my head sunk into the soft cushion of his pillow with the steady pulls of his breaths in my ear, I fell asleep.

For the first time in years, I didn’t wake afraid. I didn’t see the cold blue eyes I’d once thought were beautiful. I didn’t dream of Jayden. Not once.

I slept sound, and safe, and in the company of a man I trusted. For the first night in years, the ghost from my past didn’t haunt me in the dark of the night. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t alone.

My hand fell off the side of the couch and I startled awake. It took me a moment to gather myself, but when I did, I heard her. Her breathing. It was soft and quiet and delicate. I lay unmoving as I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. When they did, the room glowed beneath the warm orb of orange light cast from the streetlamp outside the patio door.

I twisted on the couch and saw her. Amara.

She was curled on her side, snuggled awkwardly into the curve of the cushions with her head on my pillow.Her head was on my pillow.

There was an initial moment of “holy shit” that faded into “she’s beautiful in sleep.” Amara was beautiful all the time, but there was an alluring softness to the pout of her lips that wasn’t there when she was awake. Long lashes fanned the pale flesh of her cheeks and her hair was spilled out around her. Again, on my pillow.

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