Page 57 of For You & No One Else (Say Everything 3)

Beckham sighed. Heknewthat. Knew Will was a really good guy. Goofy as hell sometimes but solid and smart and decent. He should be happy Will was taking Eliza out. She deserved a guy like Will and vice versa. Butgoddammit it all, he wanted to lift each box of beads off that cart and throw them, watch things bust up and spill out.

That kiss with Eliza had been a major error in judgment. It had triggered something inside him. Something that was making him feel what he never felt about women—possessive. That urge right there was reason enough to squash this thing with Eliza. Any feeling that put him even remotely in the ballpark with his father was a five-alarm fire. Whispers of his dad’s sermons drifted into his head about how wives were supposed to honor and obey their husbands, how the man was the head of the household, how the woman’s role was to serve the family. He remembered how his dad would have final veto on which friends his mother could spend time with, how he’d get in her face when she’d have an innocent conversation with a male member of the church, regularly accusing her of affairs. Possessive. Sneakily abusive.

Beckham had no right to feel anything about who Eliza did and didn’t date. Hewould notbe that guy.

He could handle this. After all, he had a lot of experience dealing with temptation. Every day, he got up and chose to stay sober. He walked through parties like NoPho surrounded by alcohol and didn’t have to have some long, internal debate anymore. He knew how to choose the smart route now. And each time he did, it made it a little more automatic.

He needed to do the same with Eliza. This was just simple attraction. Biology. Hormones. Nothing groundbreaking. He could learn to be around her like he’d learned to be around bourbon. He simply needed to keep putting himself in the challenging situation until he grew accustomed to its effects.

He would fix this.

After he helped Will load up his SUV and got into his own car, Beckham picked up his phone and tapped a contact. Eliza answered on the third ring. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said, angling his AC vent toward him. “You busy?”

He could hear something clicking on her end—a pen, maybe. “No, just finished up my last appointment of the day. What’s up?”

“I have this weird thing that if I watch the first movie of a franchise, even if I’ve seen it before, I need to watch the series through again,” he said, a true fact but also a convenient one for this purpose. “So I was wondering if you’re up for a littleEmpire Strikes Back.”

The pen stopped clicking. “Like another co-watch on the phone?”

He leaned his head back against the headrest. “Or maybe hang out in person? I could pick up takeout. My place isn’t far from work.”

The pause on the other end of the line had so much weight to it that he felt the phone get heavier. He was freaking her out. This sounded like a date. It was not a date.This is not a date.

“If you’re busy or not up to it, that’s fine,” he said quickly. “I was just hanging out with Will and he said y’all are going out later this week, so I thought maybe I’d catch you on an open night. Save you from the risk of being bored and tempted to go back to your social media.”There. See! I know you’re going out with someone else. This is not a date.

She cleared her throat. “Um, you know what? Sure. It’s been a long day and a movie night sounds good. But can we do it at my place?”

“Your place?”

“Yeah, I don’t want to leave Mabel alone all evening,” she explained. “She’s a good girl, but if she doesn’t get some playtime at night, she gets anxious and starts barking nonstop and bothering the neighbors.”

“Oh.” He let out a breath. “Yeah, sure, that’s fine. Trent gets pissy if Idon’tgive him alone time.”

“Perfect.”

He pulled his seat belt across his chest. “I feel like I just invited myself over. Feel free to tell me to fuck off.”

She laughed. “I do feel free to tell you that, but I don’t want to. Just don’t expect a perfectly clean house, and bring something good to eat because I’m starving.”

He pressed the button to start his car. “Feelings on étouffée? I know a place that makes a good one.”

“Pro-étouffée.”

“Shrimp or crawfish?” he asked. “And over rice or over potato salad?”

“Rice for sure. And I like both so pick whatever.”

“On it,” he said, smiling despite the fact that he was setting himself up for a white-knuckle mission. “I have to run by my condo to feed Trent and tell him how amazing he is and that no other cat will ever compare, then I’ll head over.”

“Of course. Priorities.”

“Sevenish work for you?”

“Yep. Sounds good.” She paused. “And Beck?”

“Yeah?”

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