Page 19 of For You & No One Else (Say Everything 3)

Five

Hell.Beckham realized he’d gone too far. He shouldn’t be having this kind of conversation with Eliza while she was drunk—or anytime really.Therapist. Remember? Coworker. Remember? Wants a husband and 2.5 kids. Remember?

“I know that’s not your scene,” he added. “You’re looking for the boyfriend and happily-ever-after thing. All I’m saying is that you’re not having bad luck on dates because there’s something wrong with you. You’re having a bad time because you’re looking for something real in a system set up for show. You’re looking for a seven-course meal at a fast-food restaurant.”

“But what if there aren’t any fine-dining establishments anymore?” she said between sips of coffee. “This is the system we’re left with.”

“Finding people outside of the online dating world canbethe fine-dining establishment,” he said. “You think I sound young? Well, prepare yourself for my old man, get-off-my-lawn speech.”

She gave him a cocked brow like she’d believe it when she saw it.

“Get off your apps, Eli, and go live your life. Meet people in other situations. Non-dating situations. Make friends with dudes. Stop putting so much pressure on yourself. I know you like plans, but sometimes you have to let things happen organically. Guys will get to know you first, and you’ll get a chance to know them because sex won’t be on the table yet. Well, I don’t mean sex on an actual table… You know what I mean.” He shrugged. “And if that takes some time and you get in the mood to get laid before you find someone to date seriously, there’s always the option for a friends-with-benefits hookup.”

“Option,” she said flatly. “Are you saying…”

Whatwashe saying? No, he knew what he was saying and knew it was an A+ bad idea, but he still wanted to hear her response to it. “I’m saying…”

“Oh God.” She gave him a wide-eyed look and set down her coffee.

Yep. She was going to slap him. He deserved it. He’d just proven her theory that all guys think about is sex and only sex.

But instead of slapping him, she put her hand over her mouth and mumbled, “I think I’m going to be sick again.”

Shit.He hopped out of his chair like it was on fire and grabbed his trash can from under his desk, shoving it in front of her.

“Oh no.” She reached for it with quick hands. “Look away.”

She didn’t need to worry. Vomit didn’t faze him. His dad used to give people a concoction to “get the devil out.” He’d seen more retching people than he could count. Instead of turning away, he sat next to her while she bent over the trash can and gathered her hair in his fist. “Go ahead. You’ll feel better.”

She gagged.

He turned his head, keeping her hair in his hand but trying to give her some semblance of privacy as she let loose. He winced in sympathy. He’d been that drunk more times than he cared to remember in his life and didn’t wish that feeling on anyone. Being sober wasn’t always easy, but in that moment, he was glad he didn’t have to go through this part anymore.

When she was done, he took the trash can into the hall, and then grabbed her some tissues and a bottle of water from his mini-fridge. “Here.”

She peered up at him, eyes bloodshot, and took his offerings. “I’m the worst office neighbor ever.”

He chuckled at her dramatic tone. “Nope. You don’t get that trophy. Daphne, on the other side, regularly has her boyfriend over after hours and they have really loud desk sex right up against my wall.”

Eliza’s eyes widened, a glimmer of humor surfacing. “Are you serious?”

“One hundred percent. Once they banged against the wall so hard, it knocked that picture off the nail.” He pointed at a black-and-white abstract painting.

“Wow,” Eliza said, glancing at the artwork. “Go, Daphne.”

He chuckled. “Feeling any better?”

She took a tentative sip of water and nodded. “Yeah, a little.”

“Good. Getting it out of your system is probably the best thing.”

“I can’t believe I drank that much.” She put a hand to her forehead. “I’m usually careful about stuff like that on dates, but when his friend said the drinks and food were paired purposely, that the meal was paced with that in mind, I thought it’d be fine. And Ryan wasn’t getting tipsy, so I figured I was good, too. But right around dessert, it hit me hard.”

Beckham frowned and sat in his chair again. “If his friend was pouring the drinks, do you think maybe he slipped something in one of them?”

She looked up sharply. “You think I was drugged?”

He rubbed a hand along his jaw, the possibility making him want to track Ryan down and punch him in the throat. “Just asking the question.”

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