Page 75 of Somebody to Save
We settled into easy conversation from there. Talking about anything from our dream vacation spots to what we wanted for our futures. Eventually, we got more comfortable on the blanket as the sun dropped beneath the horizon, painting the sky in a deep orange and light pink.
Beckett’s head ended up in my lap, and I was combing my fingers through his soft hair. His breathing had slowed, and he’d been quiet for so long, I peeked over him to make sure he hadn’t fallen asleep.
He hadn’t, but his eyes were heavy.
“Are you ready to head back?” I asked.
“Yeah, I guess we should,” he agreed. “I’ll cut some wood so we can make a fire and curl up in bed.”
“Perfect.”
THIRTY-FIVE
RUN, RUN, RUN!
Addison
Beckett had doneas he’d said and prepared wood for a fire. I wasn’t much help, but I was the best cheerleader. I drooled over him diligently as any good girlfriend would when her hunky boyfriend was chopping wood.
Now, he was in the shower, and I’d taken the opportunity to call Nana and Grams.
“Now, do you promise not to worry about us for the next two days?”
“Yes, yes, I promise,” I muttered into the phone to Nana.
“Good, now, go spend time with that beautiful man,” Grams said.
They didn’t even say goodbye before they hung up, and I was gaping at the phone in my hand as I sat in the middle of the ginormous bed. I tossed my phone down next to me and glanced around the spacious room, my attention lingering on the wood Beckett sat next to the fireplace.
It was already warm in the house. Beckett had turned up the heat by my request, and I wanted to cuddle deeper beneath the blankets and never come out. But that would be the opposite ofwhat I’d promised my grandmothers I’d do, which was to enjoy every moment of my time off.
Beyond the fireplace, I could hear the water still running, and I imagined it sluicing over Beckett’s body. I considered slipping into the shower with him and what we might get up to. But I had an even better idea.
My heart pounded as I climbed off the bed and tiptoed toward the bathroom. I held my breath as I pushed the door open and was greeted by dense humidity. The fragrance of his woodsy body wash hung in the air as I stepped into the room.
Of course, because of my spur-of-the-moment idea, I hadn’t planned exactly how this would play out, but when I noticed the fogged-up mirror, a more definitive plan formed.
I pressed up onto my toes and quickly scribbled a note on the mirror. One large enough that he couldn’t miss it the second he stepped out of the shower.
The moment I was done, the water shut off, and my pulse was pounding.
Faster than I’d ever moved, I slipped out of the bathroom and hurried through the bedroom. I rushed down the stairs, and I didn’t breathe again until I was poised in the kitchen near the back door.
It was colder closer to the window, which was another issue from my lack of preparation. I should have put on another layer or five or at least found shoes before I sent my plan in motion.
It was too late for that, though. I stood in tense silence by the door as I heard Beckett’s first footsteps. I listened so intently, I could almost imagine him striding down the hallway and looking behind each closed door.
He swept the second floor quicker than I expected, and the second I heard his feet pounding down the stairs, I flung the door open and hurtled myself out into the night.
The sun had gone down long enough ago that any warmth it had provided was completely gone. My bare feet slipped againstthe back deck, and I cringed when I hit the grass and brush just beyond it.
Although I didn’t have much of a plan, I knew at least that I wanted to take almost the same path we had earlier in the day. Except I wasn’t going to chance going close to the stream and risk slipping on the wet rocks.
I was already struggling to breathe, cold air stinging my lungs as I gulped and panted.
My arms pumped at my sides, and all I could hear was the blood rushing behind my ears. I was across the yard quicker than I thought, sticks and rocks biting into the bottom of my feet and the cold air slapping my exposed skin. My lightweight joggers and T-shirt weren’t doing much to protect me from the weather. I was just thankful it wasn’t snowing.
I didn’t stop moving until I had almost breached the denser portion of the tree line. That’s when I made the mistake of looking back. Beckett was bare-chested with a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he stepped onto the back patio. His gaze swept over the backyard and landed on me.
