Page 34 of Salvaged Heart
“Morning, sleepy head.” Beckham’s smooth baritone pulled me from sleep. I hadn’t even remembered closing my eyes. “Or, I should say afternoon. It’s almost two already.” He chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sleep this long.”
“I was awake.” I groaned, pulling the sheet back over my head, trying to block out the light.
“Sure seemed like it.” He tugged at the sheet, bringing it back down, and propped himself on his arm beside me. “How are you feeling?”
Confused, scared, obsessed with the way the outer ring of your iris is slightly darker than the inner, “Rested.”
“I’m glad.”
“You ready to put me to work?”
“I thought we could take the day off.”
Did he have to look at me that way? The intensity of his gaze was eating me alive, causing something to spool tightly in my gut. If we didn’t get out of this bed, I was in very real danger of mauling him again.
“Nah, the work’s good for me. Keeps me out of my head, you know?”
He nodded in understanding, running a finger up my face and brushing a curl from where it had fallen over my eyes. Every point of contact prickled in its wake.
“We should talk more. About last night.”
We should, but I wasn’t ready for that conversation. There were too many variables and factors to consider, but each and every one of them had the same ending. Beck and I could never be.
“I don’t think there is anything to say.” The words left my mouth as barely a whisper. “I am not stupid enough to think last night could be more than it was.”
“And what was last night? Don’t you dare say a mistake.”
“We were just caught up in the moment, letting off steam. I crossed a line.” He opened his mouth to interrupt me, but I held up a finger to his lips, pressing them closed, “I know you said I didn’t, but I did. You are unavailable, and I should have known better.”
“I think you are forgetting who kissed who.”
“Beckham, you are straight.”
“And you are presumptuous.”
I gave him a few exaggerated blinks in response.
“I don’t know how to label it, but I think we can both agree nothing about last night was straight behavior.”
I scoffed. “A hand job’s a hand job. It feels good no matter who gives it to you.” It was a blatant lie, but that was neither here nor there.
“We will have to disagree on that. It’s only ever been Laurel for me, but that doesn’t mean it could never be anyone else, female or otherwise. I don’t think gender has ever been important to me. It’s always been about something deeper.”
I gave myself a minute to let that wash over me, but the point was mute. “Which brings up the other part, Laurel? What the fuck, man? You cheated on my sister. I should kick your ass.”
I brought an extra pillow down on his head in a playful slap, and he gripped it tightly over him, muffling his words. “Yeah, I messed up.” He let out a long, frustrated sigh. “I’m going to end things with her. I’ve just got to figure out how to do it and stay here with you.”
End things? “No, you can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Beck, she is your future. You can’t throw that away because of a dumb mistake with me.”
The growl that ripped from his chest was almost feral. “I told you not to use that word.”
“But that’s what it was. You both have all these plans. She isyourperson. I won’t even be in your life a month from now.” The last few words came out in a choke of sudden emotion. But it was true, wasn’t it? The plan had never been for longer than the summer, and last night hadn’t changed that.
Beck looked like I'd just kicked his puppy. “Shehas all the plans.”
