Page 10 of Breakout
I shoot him a thankful smile that he’s not just going to rat me out. “Will do.”
I drag Beckett through the restaurant and scan the parking lot once we step outside. When I spot his vehicle, I drag him to it before turning on him.
“What the hell, Beckett? What was that?” I yell.
His eyes narrow. “I was defending you.”
“I don’t need you to defend me. I had it under control.”
He scoffs. “Really? Because from what I saw, you were just tolerating it. Does that happen a lot, Peyton?”
“That’s none of your business. That kind of shit happens, and I don’t need you acting like an overprotective boyfriend,” I snap.
Beckett shakes his head, anger clear on his face. “I know I’m not your boyfriend, Peyton, you’ve made that blatantly clear, but I am your fucking friend. Those guys were fucking pigs and needed to be knocked down a peg or two.”
“I agree they are fucking pigs, but it’s not your job to teach them a lesson.”
Beckett scoffs, but I push through.
“I need this job, Beckett. I don’t know if you quite understand that or not. I can’t lose this job.”
He sighs after a moment. “I know, Peyton, I know.”
“If I don’t make tips, I can’t afford tuition or anything else. I don’t have parents to fall back on when I fall short like the rest of you do.”
His eyes narrow as he points at me. “Low fucking blow, Pey. Too far.”
For a split second, guilt hits me in the chest. I know Beckett’s intentions were pure, but that’s not the point.
“Now, you need to promise me that you will never step in again if a customer gets out of hand, or I’m going to have to insist you don’t come in when I’m working. What’s it going to be?”
Beckett turns away from me, shaking his head.
“Un-fucking-real,” he mutters before turning back to me. “Fine. I won’t step in. You can fight your own battles.”
“Thank you.” I take a deep breath. “Your order’s probably up. Are you ready to go back inside?”
He shakes his head and moves to his driver’s door. “Nah, I lost my appetite. Tell one of the guys to eat it, and I’ll pay them when they get back to the house.”
“Are you sure?” I press.
“Yeah, I’ll see you later,” he says as he gets inside.
Turning, I head back toward the restaurant as a feeling of wrongness moves through me.
He was being protective like he would with Grace or Cora, but I can’t accept that for myself. I meant what I said. He isn’t my boyfriend, even if for a second it felt like he was.
It has to be this way.
This is for the best, right?
Quietly, I head down the stairs.
“Hey, man,” Wyatt says.
Fuck.
“Hey, what’s up?”
