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“No, I’m good. Do you mind if I read for a while? I won’t need a light. I have the backlighting on my Kindle, so it shouldn’t bother you.”

Beck shakes his head. “Nah, I’m good. I’ll be out in a few.”

When he comes back into the room, I can smell his body wash, which is the same scent as his shampoo and conditioner. He’s a low-maintenance guy. He’s used the same scent since middle school, and it makes me want to be close to him.

He pulls his covers back from his bed, plugs in his phone on the nightstand, and climbs in bed. I don’t dare look directly at him, but I can see it all in my peripheral vision.

He moves around in his bed and then quietly says, “Thanks for dinner. I’ve … I’ve missed you.”

Not sure I heard him correctly, I just respond with, “Welcome.”

Then I stew on if what I thought I heard was that he admitted to missing me.

But that can’t be right.

CHAPTERELEVEN

BECKHAM

In the monthsince Charlie moved in and school started, it has been less awkward than I thought it would be.

The cot that Lindsay brought over, which is really more like a rollaway bed, is sitting against the only open wall space in the room—between the closet and the door to the hallway—which means I basically have a clear view of her while she’s sleeping. And, yeah, I realize that’s creepy, but it’s been a long-ass time since I’ve been alone with this girl in a room.

I tug a shirt over my head and walk past her bed, which smells like her coconut shampoo even though she’s not in the room.

The other day, she was in here, painting her toenails the deepest shade of pink, and she looked so damn pretty, just sitting at my desk with her leg curled up. She was biting her lip as she concentrated on painting one nail at a time. It took everything in me not to crawl across my bed and pull her by the ankles so she was splayed out in front of me and kiss up her body like I used to.

I let out a groan, just remembering how she’d tasted.

As I sat in bed, I tried to concentrate on my laptop and focus on the screen, pretending not to stare at her.

While my dick can’t keep control of itself, my mind is in a good place when it comes to me and Charlie.

Things have changed since she moved in.

She’s not the same girl she was when we were in high school. Charlie grew up while we were apart. I can tell by the way she speaks with confidence and that twinge of sass. She navigates campus alone in a way I never would have imagined. She used to need Casey and me for everything. I even like that she goes to the sorority house to spend time with Arbor and Lily. They’re good for her. Not like Britney.

Damn, just thinking about Britney makes my fists clench. How could one girl ruin seven years of a good thing?

It’s been easy, not talking about the past. I’m good at burying that shit where it needs to be. No need to bring it up. Let’s move on, and everything will be good.

At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

And why would I want to worry about past pains when right now, in the present, is going way too fuckin’ good.

I’ve got Charlie sleeping in my room.

My best friend lives down the hall.

And tonight, we won our first home game of the season.

I scored one touchdown and had one hundred thirteen yards rushing. My dad and my sister were there to see it, which made me happy. I know my dad loves coming to watch me play. We’ve come a long way, the three of us. Brooke and I didn’t have the easiest childhood. Not because of my dad, but because my mom was abusive and a severe alcoholic.

Again, past shit I don’t like to think about, let alone talk about.

Casey and Charlie’s parents drove down with my dad and sister. And because we had an early afternoon game, we went out to dinner at our favorite taco joint with our parents, then met the rest of our friends back at the house.

Now, it’s time to party.