My breath caught in my throat.
“Fuck,” I hissed, a hand flying to my chest. “How long have you been standing there?”
His mouth quirked slightly. “Long enough.”
Long enough to watch me unravel. Long enough to know I was rattled by more than just the weather.
I straightened instinctively, lifting my chin like a shield, arms folding across my chest in challenge.
“Enjoying the show?” I shot, my voice sharp, even though I could hear the wobble underneath.
But instead of the sparring match I braced for, the dry remark, the next judgmental jab, the air shifted.
Beckett didn’t smirk. He didn’t roll his eyes or push back.
He just stood there, watching me with a look I couldn’t pin down.
Quiet. Still. His arms loosened slightly across his chest, his brows pulling together. Not in annoyance, but in what appeared to be confusion.
The words slipped out before I could stop them, soft and raw.
“Why do you dislike me so much?”
For a second, all I could hear was the crackle of the fireplace and the snow tapping against the windows.
Beckett’s jaw worked like he was searching for the right words.
His arms dropped fully to his sides. He let out a breath and raked a hand through his dark hair, looking less like the brooding mountain man and more like a man who didn’t know what to do with a conversation like this.
“I don’t,” he said finally, his voice low. “Not really.”
I blinked, caught off guard.
He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes flicking away like it cost him something to admit it.
“I don’tgetit.” He motioned vaguely between us. “Your world. People who live for attention. It’s like a different planet to me.”
I swallowed hard, the sting in my chest softening ever so slightly.
“I don’tlivefor attention,” I murmured, more to myself than to him.
Beckett’s gaze cut back to mine, sharp but not cruel. “It looks that way.”
I huffed out a breath, hugging my arms tighter. “Yeah, well it’s not that simple.”
For a long moment, we stood there, the storm outside our only audience.
Then, to my complete and utter surprise, Beckett gave a small, almost reluctant nod, like maybe he was willing to admit there was more to me than the hashtags he didn’t understand.
Because of that, instead of snapping back, instead of throwing up walls or turning it into a fight, I surprised us both.
I let the truth slip out.
“I didn’t use to be like this,” I said quietly, my voice rough around the edges. “It wasn’t always about followers or branddeals. Before all that, when I was at college and me and Lucy were the best of friends, it was different.”
His brows lifted slightly, the faintest tilt of his head. Clearly, he was listening to every word flying out of my mouth.
I wrapped my arms tighter around myself, sinking onto the edge of the couch. “Yeah, when I was at college I wanted to create a brand. I guess I just didn’t knowIwould be the brand.” My throat tightened. “And Lucy, she was the only person I could think to reach out to when everything went wrong.”