Page 36 of Scooter's Endgame
Beckett has been one of the few stable elements in our lives, Luke’s and mine, and it would devastate me to lose his friendship. Because while, yes, I’d love it if we could be more than that, we’re friends first. A friendship I cherish, above all else. And I would rather bite my tongue than say something stupid and ruin what we have.
“Hey.”
“Hi, you’re home earlier than expected.”
“Yeah, wasn’t really in the mood, so I decided to come home. Knight and Bear did the same thing. The rest of the guys are gonna hang for the evening – something about dinner and a movie.”
“Ah, okay. Well, I’ve literally just popped the casserole for dinner into the oven. The timer’s set for an hour. There’s cooked rice on the stove – you’re pretty much set when you’re ready to eat. Everything else is done, so I’ll leave you to enjoy a quiet evening.” I give him a smile as I come around the counter, intending to head back to the cottage and leave Beckett in peace.
Reaching for the doorknob, I turn back to face him. “Oh, before I forget, I need to place an online order for groceries tomorrow, since I probably won’t make it to the store in time with it being Day One of the court case. If you need anything, please add it to the grocery list on the refrigerator door.”
“Great. Thanks.” He hesitates for a moment. “What are you and Luke doing this evening?”
“Um, Luke’s spending a few days at Liam’s – with my case starting tomorrow and not knowing anything about what all it’ll entail, or what time I’ll be getting home, I thought it would be better for him.”
“Right. Gotcha. So you’re on your own this evening?”
“Yeah.” My stomach tightens with nerves. The uncertainty of the moment has me constantly cycling through a million negative emotions and thoughts. I’m not looking forward to what’s coming, but there’s not much I can do about it. Which is probably one of the top things I’m struggling with the most.
Beckett looks like he wants to say something. Rubbing at his neck, like he does when he’s got something on his mind, he drops his gaze to his shoes. For long, strained minutes we stand like that – him studying his shoes, me standing awkwardly by the door, my hand resting on the handle as if I might need to make a fast get away.
“Er – would you like to stay – you know, hang out with me for a bit and eat dinner together, instead of both of us being alone?”
I can’t help but laugh at the last bit of his sentence. “Don’t you know being alone is a coveted luxury for mothers?”
“Oh. Well, in that case, I’ll – er, not to worry then. We can do it another time—”
Taking his face in, my heart sinks as I realize my joke’s fallen flat. He’s missed the humor and, if I don’t miss my guess, I’ve made him feel like shit. “I’m sorry. I was just teasing you. I mean, we do covet our alone time, but I’m notthatprecious about it. I’m happy to hang out with you. And to be honest, I really could use some company tonight.”
“Yeah, I hear that.” Before I can question him, he continues. “Then come on back and get comfy on one of the outdoor sofas. I’ll grab us some drinks.”
“There’s still a few of your beers left in there.” I point over at the fridge.
“What can I get for you? A soda, glass of wine?”
“I could seriously use a glass of wine, thanks,” I reply, making my way out back.
He brings the drinks out, dropping into the chair beside me, and hands me an enormous glass generously filled with golden liquid. I enjoy a good wine, I do, but tonight there’s a very real possibility of over-indulging, which will lead to being fragile at a time I need to be at my best. And, God knows, I’m going to need my wits about me when I square off with Jeff.
“I can hear you thinking from over here.” I turn to look at him and, while his lips are smiling, his eyes are serious. “I’m not trying to get you drunk – that’s not my intention. It’s enough to take the edge off, but not to make you regret your life choices in the morning.”
“Thanks,” I reply, chuckling at his words.
The sun is descending below the roofline of the neighboring houses when Beckett’s stomach rumbles. Loudly. I’m not sure why – probably because I’ve had a glass and a half of wine already? – but the sound makes me laugh. Deep, gut-busting guffaws that have me clutching my own stomach, leading to tears of mirth rolling down my face.
It’sreallynot that funny, but once I get started, I can’t stop. Beckett gives me a funny look, like I’ve gone insane, which only makes me laugh harder. When I can finally catch my breath, I pat the hand resting on the thigh closest to me.
“It’s okay, I haven’t lost my mind quite yet. I guess I just needed the stress relief of laughing like a loon.” Wiping the moisture from my face, I get to my feet. “Come on, let’s get you fed.”
“I like the sound of that.” Grinning, he stands too, at the same moment I round the table.
Air is forced out of me in a sharp “oof” as I collide with his hard frame. Instantly, his hands are there to cup my elbows to ensure I don’t land on my ass. “Shit, sorry, sweet pea. You okay?”
I want to tell him I’m fine, but my body’s on fire from where we’re currently touching. In fact, my whole body burns from the intense need for him to touch me. Everywhere. I want to feel his roughened hands all over my naked skin – touching, teasing, tempting. Anywhere. Everywhere.
We’ve been dancing around each other for years without even realizing it, but now that we find ourselves here, all I want is to tell him how I feel. But if I do, what happens if he doesn’t feel quite the same way? Can we go back??
“Um, Kay …” I look up at Beckett, focus in on his face, his eyes – and oh my God, the heat in those bottomless pools. It has me drawing in a harsh breath.
