Page 31 of Forever to Fall
Closing what little distance remained between them, Beckett kissed Mallory. It was a sweet kiss, their lips falling into a familiar rhythm. Mallory’s hands ran down his shoulders, coming to rest on his forearms. The bandage tickled her fingers, and she pulled back with a groan. “We should probably check your bandages before sleep.”
“My hand is the literal last thing on my mind.” Beckett laughed, and Mallory couldn’t blame him. But for as eager as she was to explore this newfound connection, her heart pleaded with her to take it slow.
They had a history, and she prayed they had a future, too. Because no matter how things ended before, something felt different this time around. Maybe they were simply more mature, maybe they had nothing to lose. Either way, Mallory wanted to see where this went. She could only hope they wouldn’t get lost along the way.
*
“Ican make it up thestairs,” Beckett said through clenched teeth. His pain meds had worn off, and he grimaced as he climbed each step. His weight was entirely on the railing, and he felt Mallory behind him. “Maybe you should go ahead of me,” he suggested. The image of him losing his balance and taking her with him made his stomach sour.
“Pfft, not a chance. I’m tougher than I look.” Her hand pressed into his lower back, steadying him as he progressed. His legs wobbled like a newborn calf, and he was grateful for Mallory’s medical background. This was probably the least sexy he’d ever been...except maybe that horrible year of acne freshman year.
“I don’t doubt it,” he replied. Granted he’d only seen her in action at the hospital for a moment, but he saw how respected she was by her peers. It made him so happy that she was following her dreams and making a career for herself. Yet the dark smudges under her eyes gave him pause, the concern that she worked too hard never far from his mind.
When they reached the top of the stairs, he shuffled into his grandparents’ room. The room across the hall had been his, but most of the furniture was now at his apartment. Mallory strode ahead and turned on the nightstand light. A warm glow filled the space, and Beckett eased onto the chair in the corner. “I’ll get the linens and make the bed. I haven’t done anything since Gramps—” but he couldn’t say a word.
He hadn’t been in this room much since Gramps passed, and he suddenly remembered why. Sitting downstairs with Mallory over dinner, he thought he could handle anything. Things felt more certain, clearer, when she was with him. If he was honest, a tiny part of him had hoped to see the old man sitting in bed yelling at the TV, devastated that the Guardians lost another game.
But the bed was empty, stripped down to the mattress and waiting for its owners to return. Beckett didn’t know if he believed in heaven, but he wanted his grandparents to be together, enjoying themselves. His gold standard for happily ever after began with them, and watching Mallory now, he hoped his own happy ending was within reach.
“The linen closet is in the hallway, right?” Mallory took a step toward the door, but Beckett stuck out his crutch to stop her progression.
“Can you, um, wait a second?”
Nurse Mallory jumped into action. “You need your pain meds. I can’t believe I forgot.” Before he could stop her, she bounded down the stairs and returned a moment later with a glass of water and a fistful of little white pills. “Take two of these, drink all of this, and I’ll get you more within six hours.”
Ever the dutiful patient, Beckett took the pills and drank the water. As he slid the glass onto the dresser, Mallory snatched his hand. He linked their fingers together and tugged her closer, but it was no use. She pulled free and rested her index finger on his wrist, counting his pulse. “I was trying to have a moment here, Nurse Lawson.” He huffed, but she didn’t look at him.
“You laugh,” she argued, “but all I need is you keeling over. Evan would never forgive me for killing his best man.” She winked to soften the blow, finally leaning down to kiss his cheek. “Any dizziness or pain in your neck or head?”
Beckett blew a raspberry with his tongue. “Mallory, come on!”
She flicked his forehead and groaned. “Are you going to be a bad patient?”
Beckett beamed. “I’m planning on besting your top patient, but first I want a kiss.”
“Scandalous! I’m telling Dr. Shuptar.” Mallory knelt in front of him.
Using his good hand, Beckett traced a line of freckles from her ear down to her collarbone. She shivered at the contact. “You need your rest,” she protested weakly, inching closer to savor the heat of his touch.
“And so do you.”
“I’ll stay up here with you, but no funny business.”
Beckett replaced his finger with his mouth, kissing a pattern down her neck. The tart aroma of her perfume drew him in, beckoning memories of summer berry picking and sun-kissed skin. “I’ve never been called funny a day in my life.”
Mallory giggled. “I don’t know, Emily still thinks you look like Conan O’Brien.”
He couldn’t help himself, Beckett let out a bark of laughter. “Wow, way to kill the mood, Mal. Here I am trying to seduce you, and you bring up my least favorite celebrity comparison.” He needed this, the feeling of Mallory against his skin, the taste of her burning his lips...he craved a distraction from it all. He craved Mallory, full stop.
“You love it,” she teased, poking him in the side. “How many nights did we stay up and watch him?”
“Doesn’t mean I want Conan on the brain when I’m trying to woo you.” He held her as close as he could without hurting his hand.
Mallory pulled back and shook her head. “You are ridiculous. We already agreed we need to take things slow.”
“We will, but that doesn’t mean we can’t—” Another clap of thunder shook the house. A moment later, the room filled with a flash of lightning. Even in the dim light, Beckett saw Mallory pale. It was no secret that she hated thunderstorms, and it broke his heart to see her so frazzled. The woman had been through enough today.
“I better make the bed while we still have power.” She pushed to her feet and started for the doorway. Beckett watched her go, but when she returned with sheets, he panicked. No one had touched that bed since Gramps died, and he didn’t think he could muster even one night tucked into the familiar space.
