Page 42 of For You & No One Else (Say Everything 3)

“Beckham. I’m sure you’ve seen him around. He’s blond, twenty-five, full-sleeve tattoos. Usually wears graphic T-shirts. Tall and lanky but fit. Good shoulders.” She glanced over, seeing if any of that was ringing a bell for Andi. “He works in cybersecurity and is designing a video game on the side.”

“I think so, but I’ve never talked to him,” she said, frowning like she was disturbed that someone at WorkAround had eluded the Andi Welcoming Committee. “But let’s focus on the important part. You obviously think he’s hot.”

Eliza kept her expression smooth, knowing Andi was probably studying her profile. “I didn’t say that.”

“Girl,” she said with a come-on-now tone. “You’ve noticed hisshoulders.”

Eliza kept her eyes on the road, tightening her grip on the wheel. “Fine. He’s kind of gorgeous. But too young. We’re just friends.”

“Too young?” Andi made a dismissive sound. “Please. Twenty-five is in range.”

“It’s not the number.” Eliza took another turn, wondering how far out of the city this thing was. “He’s too young in the sense that he’s not looking for what I’m looking for. Different stage of life. I’m not looking for hookups. I’m past that.”

Andi shifted in her seat. “Ah, yeah, I see your point. That’s a bummer.”

“It’s okay,” Eliza said, maybe trying to convince herself as well. “He’s helping me, actually—to meet more guys. He’s very anti-online dating.”

“Amen,” Andi said, voice emphatic. “That’s just a serial killer menu waiting to happen. Which woman do I want to torture? Like ordering up some takeout.”

Eliza rolled her eyes. “It’s not the serial killer factor. He’s anti-online about a lot of stuff. Probably because he knows how easy it is to break into things and get people’s information. His job is basically being a good-guy hacker—or white-hat hacker. I think that’s what it’s called.”

“Ooh, I’m going to file that information away.” Andi picked up her phone and typed something into it. “I may need him for a book resource one day. I have a stalker story knocking around my brain that would involve some hacking stuff.”

“He’d probably be happy to answer any questions you have,” Eliza said. “He’s the one that got me thinking about this digital detox thing in the first place. And like I said, he’s kind of helping me with this project. But don’t tell him it’s an official project.” She gave Andi a quick glance. “As far as he knows, this is for my personal development only. I want to keep the book thing private for now since I don’t know what it might turn into—if it turns into anything at all.”

“No problem,” Andi said without hesitation. “So if he doesn’t realize you’re doing this as a project, he’s just being helpful for the sake of being helpful?”

“Yeah, that’s what this party invite is about. Meeting people off-line and without phones. He said the crowd is a good group. He’ll introduce me to some people.” She tapped her fingers against the steering wheel, nerves creeping in.

“Huh.” Andi shifted in her seat. “That’s really nice of him. To help. What’s in it for him?”

Headlights from an oncoming car blinded Eliza for a moment on the dark road, the Spanish moss hanging from the cypress trees that lined the street lighting up like electric worms. She slowed down a little. “What?”

“I’m a writer,” Andi said. “No one does something without motivation. What’s he getting out of helping you?”

Eliza focused on the yellow reflectors on the road, her attention on staying within the lines but her mind wrestling with the question. “I don’t know. I think mainly he wants to prove a point. That he’s right about his analog lifestyle.”

“Hmm.”

“What’s that noise for?” Eliza asked. The GPS dinged, startling her, and she almost missed the turn. She wrenched the steering wheel.

Andi grabbed onto the dashboard as Eliza made a hard right. “Nothing. I just… Well, I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

Eliza sent her friend a look. “He’s not a serial killer.”

Andi’s eyes were as innocent as the bunnies on her slippers. “I didn’t say he was.”

“Don’t give him the third degree,” Eliza warned.

Andi made a noise like a properly offended southern lady and put her hand to her chest. “I wouldnever.”

Eliza shook her head. Yep. Andi definitely was going to interrogate him. Beckham was in trouble and didn’t even know it yet. Eliza would have to get to him first to give him a heads-up.

***

Beckham took out his phone and handed it to Jayleigh, who was manning—womaning?—the check-in table for the party tonight. The members of the group rotated door duty.

“Hey, Becks.” She smiled up at him, pushing back a long, hot-pink loc that had escaped the large bun she’d twirled the rest of her hair into. “Ready to party like it’s 1989?”

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