Page 27 of Getting Lucky Number Seven

Beck put his hand on my back as we headed to an open table, five fingerprints of heat burning into my skin, even through the fabric of my shirt. “You want a drink?” he asked when a waitress came by.

“Yeah. Something with lots of vodka,” I joked.

Without missing a beat, he ordered me an appletini and a beer for himself, along with hot wings and onion rings. Once the waitress was gone, I leaned in and asked, “Weren’t you scared she’d card us?”

“I’ve got a fake ID if I need it. Most of the time if you’re confident, they don’t bother.”

I’d love to think I could pull it off, but there was no way. This was why Beck was the perfect person to learn confidence from. If only I could stop thinking about how much the scruff worked for him, how lately our banter felt more…charged than usual, and how every time he put his hand on my back, I wanted to lean closer and feel more of his body against mine.

Addictive shivers of electricity skittered across my skin and gathered low in my stomach. If I entertained thoughts of pressing into him much longer I might lose my mind and try it out.

Well, if there was one thing I was good at, it was taking that option away by bringing up cats. “Okay, you’re going to mock me, but I have to show you this picture. I was looking up bucket list items, and I’ve even started a Pinterest board for it—”

“You’re right. I’m gonna mock you, nerd.”

I elbowed him in the ribs. “Hey. That’s not even the part I’m talking about.” I pulled up the photo I’d saved on my phone and showed it to him.

Beck looked at the cat standing on two legs, its mouth wide open, a microphone photoshopped into its paws. The corners of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.

I poked his cheek. “Come on, a cat singing karaoke is crazy cute. You can admit it. I won’t tell.”

“I just want to know if he’s singing the Kesha or the Flo Rida part.” The skin around his eyes crinkled in this adorable way as he finally gave in to the smile. I liked how his whiskers were lighter, a hint of strawberry hue to them—he’d probably hate me pointing it out, though. Not to mention it’d be a dead giveaway that I couldn’t stop staring at him.

But the thing was, he was looking right back at me, an indescribable expression on his face that made me think maybe the cat pictures weren’t as much of a deterrent as I thought.

I must be tripping. There’s no wayBeckis looking at me like that.Despite my common sense shouting for me to abandon my current line of thinking, longing still wound itself through my body, shaking every one of my senses awake.

Beck draped his arm on the chair behind me, his fingers brushing my neck along the way and his knee resting against my thigh. He placed his other arm on the table, closing off my view of anything but him and bringing his chest against my shoulder. Each sharp beat of my heart attacked my ribcage, an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain.

“Lyla,” he said, his voice deliciously low, and my throat went dry.

Then his phone rang, popping the cozy bubble that’d formed around us. It almost seemed as if he had to shake himself awake—probably because I had to, and my temporary insanity reflected that onto him. He glanced at the display. “Sorry. Give me a sec.”

When he answered, it was with the same tone he’d used when he’d gotten a call while I was in the dressing room. A cold lump formed in my gut as I wondered if he’d ditch me again.

“I’ve already explained all the reasons why you can’t live with me,” he said into the phone. “I love you, but we’d drive each other crazy, and you’d only get into trouble. Not to mention the fact that you’re mid-semester in high school. And before you ask, youdohave to graduate, so don’t even go there.”

Whoa. This just got more awkward than my love of cats and goofy pictures involving them. I suppose the girl could be eighteen, so…at least not illegal? Did she know about all of Beck’s other girls, though?

“If you’d just be nice to Tessa, she’d be much easier to live with.” Beck glanced at me. He put his hand on my shoulder, twisted the phone up so the mouthpiece was in the air, and whispered, “Sorry. My sister’s determined to win an award for best dramatic actress in a perfectly nice life.”

Sister. Relief flooded me. “It’s okay,” I whispered back. Of course watching him talk to his sister, smiling or shaking his head at whatever she said, only made the crush I was trying to pretend I didn’t have grow.

How many times did I have to tell myself that he was the worst possible guy to crush on? I needed his friendship more than I needed to kiss him. My gaze moved to his lips.

I was fairly certain.

He licked his lips.

Damn, I was slipping. Good thing he never would, or we could really screw this up.

“Beck and Lyla are up next!” the emcee announced. “If you guys can make your way to the stage…”

My eyes flew wide as I looked at Beck. No way was I singing that song by myself.Icouldn’t rap. I didn’t even know if I could pull off the Kesha part.

“Megan, I gotta go. I’m singing karaoke.”

Even with the noise in the place, I could hear her shocked reaction.

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