Page 85 of One Touch

“I’m sorry.” Surprising, hot tears clogged my voice.

“About what, Katie-girl?” He held me closer, somehow knowing it was easier to open myself to him if I wasn’t looking at him.

“I hate that I can’t not think about him right now.”

Beckett ran a soothing hand down my back. “It’s fine. You can think about whatever you need to think about.”

I pulled back to look at him. “It’s strange, though, right? That I was with your brother?”

“It’s different.” His eyes roamed over my face. “Not ideal, sure. I don’t love that he’s seen you naked, and I fucking hate that he hurt you.”

Feeling safe and brave, I whispered in the darkness. “Did you know?”

His long pause stretched and filled the darkness.

“Beckett, did you know that he was using me?” I hated how small I sounded. How small Ifelt.

“I didn’t know the specifics, but it tracks for Declan. He’s always been selfish. We don’t have a healthy relationship, so I never knew much about his romantic partners. When you kept showing up for holidays, I had assumed you were together.”

I nodded. “He made promises every time he came into town. I thought we were in a committed long-distance relationship. I was shocked when he suggested I take the scholarship in Montana, but somehow convinced myself that it was because he was so selfless. That he wanted what was best for me.” I scoffed at how epically naive I had been. “We were coming up on an anniversary, and it had been months of nothing but random texts and a few video calls. I had made this elaborate plan to surprise him at his apartment in Chicago. When I showed up, he was hanging out with friends.” I squeezed my eyes tight, remembering the confused faces as my excitement faded like a sad balloon leaking air.

“They had no clue who I was, let alone that I considered myself his girlfriend of six years. He recovered quickly and introduced me as hisfriendKate. I didn’t even make a scene, just quietly excused myself and cried my eyes out in the car. Later, he begged and pleaded and said it was a silly misunderstanding—that I had just surprised him, and he was truly happy to see me. The lies were everything I wanted to hear.”

I let the silence settle over me before fully opening myself to him.

“I almost took him back. That was the worst part—that even after how humiliated I was, a part of me was willing to overlook it and forgive him. Again.” I let out a watery laugh to ease the tension in my chest. “Thank god for my best friends, Gemma and Sophie, who helped me heal and urged me to see that I deserved so much more than being someone’s fallback or secret.”

I deserve so much more than a life on the back burner could ever give me.

Tension radiated off Beckett as his breaths sawed in and out of him. “Declan’s a fucking idiot.”

An irrational burst of laughter pushed out of me, relieving the tension that hung in the air. “Well”—I laughed—“I’m not going to argue with you on that. But when I thought back, I always pushed for us to be more. That was on me.”

Beckett rolled, pinning me beneath him.

“Kate.” He shifted his hips and I opened for him. His body settled over me.

“Yes?”

I wrapped my legs around him, and his arms caged me in.

I was protected.

Safe.

“I know what it’s like.”

I looked at his serious face and my heart pinched. “Whatwhatis like?”

“To be the one that’s passed over. To always be the stepping stone to the nextbetterthing.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “Beckett, you’re not—”

“It’s the ultimate joke,” he cut in. “You know the saying, theheir and the spare? I’m technically the heir but such an utter disappointment that my parents pinned all their hopes on the spare from almost the moment he was born.”

My chest ached for him. “How can you say that? You’re at the top of your field. I’ve seen the magazine articles, the framed accolades in your office. I figured your parents would be proud of you.”

He scoffed. “You figured wrong. I could win a thousand awards, and it would never be enough, because when I was twenty, my father wanted me to follow in his footsteps, and instead I chose my own path. To my father, not wanting to be like him was the ultimate slap in the face. No matter what I do, he will always see me as the bastard son.”

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