Page 43 of Teach Me to Laugh

“Maddy knows!” I whispered my exclamation.

“Maddy knows.” He confirmed. “Kai told her.”

“That’s why she said she’d take the couch,” I stated. “And why she’s totally fine with her parents not being a part of it all.”

“Yeah,” again he nodded. “She already talked to them about it.”

“Kaiden is proposing.” I said again, a little breathless. “Marriage.”

“That’s usually what it means, peanut.” Beckett’s lips were slowly stretching into a grin. “So now you know why you can’t back out.”

I squinted my face into a scowl. “Beckett . . .”

“It’s for Raina.”

Screw me sideways. For Raina there wasn’t much I wouldn’t do . . .

“That girl is starting to be a serious pain in my ass.”

“Looking forward to our week together, peanut.”

I smacked him in the shoulder, grunting, “You’ll be on the floor.”

He just grinned in that way that made me think I’d bought myself a whole lot more trouble than I thought. So I ignored him, sipped my coffee, and ate the delicious breakfast that I totally needed—that Beckett Davis cooked for me.

Then I told myself I couldn’t love a man. Not any man, but especially not a man like Beckett. Not a perfect man, with perfect smiles, and perfect warm eyes, and perfectly buttered toast. I couldn’t love any man. Because I knew what it was like to love and lose and I wasn’t setting myself up for hurt like that again.

Not ever.

“You couldn’t have developed an obsession for something like apple juice?” Beckett’s voice sounded through the sappy romance movie I was watching, and I lifted my gaze from the tear-streaked confession of love, to the man I’ve lived with for months.

Fresh snow fell from his hood to the entrance carpet ashe flipped back the hood on his jacket. And as he let the bag of raspberry juice meet with the floor to remove his jacket, I couldn’t look away.

“I like raspberries.”

“They have apple juice at gas stations. Quick and easy. This stuff is like trying to track down good crack, and because crack isn’t good in any form, that’s not easy.”

“Loving something isn’t worth it if it’s forced—even if it’s convenient.”

“Very true, beautiful.” He said, his voice deep and raw sounding. And then he tipped his head and continued to undress from his winter wear.

Beckett had gone to the gym, and it showed. It showed because he wasn’t wearing a big hoodie under his jacket like I knew he should, to make sure he didn’t get sick from the cold, but instead he was wearing one of those tanks with the inch of material over his shoulders. Muscles bulged in his freshly worked arms and every vein was bright and blue. He looked strong. And surprisingly delicious.

Again, I kind of understood the whole “I could lick him top to bottom” fad.

“We have a full jug in the fridge,” I shifted, tucking my legs up under my bum. “You didn’t have to stop for more.”

“I did. My next two days are going to be crazy with studying.” He kicked off his boots. “You go through this shit like crazy and I wanted to be stocked up.”

“You know Iamcapable of getting myself to the store for my own juice, right?”

“Know you got legs,” he grinned, eyeing what he could see of my legs. “Great legs.”

“Beck,”

“But a promise is a promise. I gave you my word that I’d keep you stocked.”

“I’m revoking you of your vow.”

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