21

A s the music pulsed through my body, I let myself get lost in its rhythm. My hips swayed effortlessly, almost as if they had a mind of their own. But even in my moment of abandon, I couldn't escape the feeling of being watched. It was a familiar sensation, one that made my skin tingle and my heart race. Shifting my body around slowly, I met the intense gaze of those piercing eyes that I knew all too well, and a shiver ran down my spine.

My breath caught before I could stop it, heart lurching like it had been yanked sideways. A surge of something hot and electric shot through me—part thrill, part panic. My skin prickled, and for a second, it felt like the air around me had shifted, charged with the kind of tension only he could bring.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to run toward him or vanish into the crowd. The fact that he was here, that he'd followed me, sent my thoughts spinning. My stomach fluttered in that way it only ever did around him. I could already feel his presence pressing against me from across the room, heavy and impossible to ignore.

What’s he doing here?

“Looks like we have some company tonight.” Kayla winked, nodding her head towards Beckett.

I didn’t know what came over me. Maybe it was the Malibu and Cokes I had prior to arriving, but I continued moving my body to the music, not taking my eyes off of his as he made his way over to me. He didn't care who got in the way, his focus on me never wavered.

I glanced over my shoulder to see that Kayla had disappeared and was heading in the direction of the bar… Brilliant. Thanks, mate.

Before I was able to turn back to see where Beckett was, his hands were already firmly placed on my hips, pulling my front flush to his.

“Dance with me.” He flashed his pearly whites at me as he finished his sentence.

I scoffed as my body slowly relaxed into him like it did once before. “Was that a question or a demand?”

“Most definitely the latter, cupcake.” The word hit me like a spark to dry tinder. Cupcake. He hadn’t called me that in years. Hearing it now, so casually, so effortlessly, was like no time had passed at all. “If you think I’m letting any other fucker here put his hands on you, then you’re seriously mistaken.”

He moved his hips in sync with mine to the music as I quickly remembered how good he was on the dance floor. His fingers traced a path up my exposed leg, while his other splayed across the small of my back, as if he was afraid I would escape.

His intense gaze locked onto mine, and the air between us seemed to tighten, charged with something unsaid and undeniable. The space around us shrank, humming with a silent tension that curled along my spine and sparked across my skin.

It was that same pull—magnetic and maddening—that had always existed between us. A flicker of heat bloomed low in my stomach, and I couldn’t look away. My heart thudded against my ribs, loud enough I was sure he could hear it. Time didn’t matter. No one else in the room mattered.

Just him. Just us. And that dangerous, familiar electricity crackling in the space where words used to be. This was the man I had loved and lost, but now he stood before me, wanting me just as much as all those years ago.

Without hesitation, his hand reached up to caress my cheek, sending shockwaves through me. He leaned in closer, and as much as I hated it, I resisted the pull between us. A smile tugged at his lips as I stood there for a second.

“You’re mine, Em. Nobody else’s.” He said, his voice as smooth as honey in my ear. “If I have to remind you of that on a daily basis, then I will.”

But he wouldn’t be here daily to tell me.

He wouldn’t be here day in and day out for Liam either.

He was leaving sooner than I wanted him to.

Did I want to admit that?

No, I didn't.

I released a shaky breath before pivoting on my heel, racing towards the nearest exit. I could sense him close behind, just like I always could before.

“Emily, wait a second!” He shouted after me, but I couldn’t stop until I made it outside.

Bursting through the doors, my breaths came easier, the crisp evening air a warm welcome from the banging music and flashing lights.

“Why are you running off?” He ran his hand through his hair in despair as he skidded to a stop close by.

“Because I can’t do this, Beckett.” I threw my hands up before letting them fall against my thighs with a hard slap. “You’re here to have a relationship with your son, that’s all. What else are you trying to do?”

“I fucking miss you, Emily! Every damn day I was away I missed you!” His words came out harsh, but I knew it wasn't because he was intentionally trying to be mean. It was that his emotions were getting the better of him. The intensity of his voice ricocheted off the buildings in the alleyway and hit me straight in the heart.

“Then why did you stay away?! If you missed me, why not come back?!”

“Because Mike said you moved on!”

“And you couldn’t come home to see for yourself?! You believed everybody else over me?” Anger surged through me first, hot and sharp, like it had been sitting just beneath the surface, waiting for a reason to boil over. My hands curled into fists at my sides before I even realised it, nails digging into my palms. My chest tightened, breath shallow and uneven, like I couldn’t get enough air no matter how hard I tried.

Then came the rest of it, crashing into me all at once. Hurt. Disappointment. That hollow, stinging ache in my throat that always came just before tears. I wanted to scream, to cry, to throw something—anything—to release the chaos storming inside me. My vision blurred as emotion swelled behind my eyes, and I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, desperate to keep it together. Every nerve in my body screamed for relief, but there was nowhere for the pain to go. It sat in my chest, heavy and raw, daring me to break.

“You believed him too!” He was right, I did, but I was vulnerable at the time. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Having the one you loved the most break your heart was hard enough to bear. “He said you were too busy with someone new.”

“Do you know what I was busy with, Beckett?” I let out a ragged breath. “Raising our son alone. That’s what I was busy with while you were enjoying the game.” I sighed. “I called you the day he was born.”

“From your number?” he asked, his eyes widening slightly.

“No, my battery died, it would have been an unknown caller. I debated leaving a message, but the thought of you ignoring that hurt even more.” I let out a sob, but no matter how much I tried to hide it, he noticed.

“Em, I’m here now.”

“Are you?” I pinched the bridge of my nose in exasperation. “I suggest you just enjoy whatever time you have left with Liam until you jet off.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, Beckett's expression changed. A twinge of guilt hit me for being so blunt, but it was the truth. The reality was that he would forever be my first love. No matter how many times I tried to date other people, he would always remain in my mind. I wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in his arms, kissing until the sun rose, but it was pointless. I wasn't planning on moving to Spain, not that he’d even wanted us to, and there was no way he would ever move back. Beckett was always destined for greater things.

“You can pick Liam up tomorrow.” I pulled out my phone, sending a quick text to Kayla and expressing my need to leave.

“I’ll show you, Em.” He sounded sincere, and part of me believed he would show me, but I still second-guessed everything.

Maybe other people would’ve gotten back together with him, but it wasn’t that simple. At least not to me.

We stood in heavy silence, the thump of the music inside pulsing through the walls and blending with the ragged sound of our breathing—fast, uneven, still charged from everything that had just been said.

“Are you okay?” Kayla hurried out of the exit towards me.

“I’m sorry, K. I need to go.” I shivered as she draped my jacket over my shoulders. “You can stay if you want to, though. You don’t need to leave because of me.”

“Stop that right now. I’m staying at yours. Let’s go and open one of those bottles of wine in the fridge and relax.” She smiled and squeezed my hand in hers.

“Goodnight, Beckett.” I turned as I spoke, closing my eyes briefly to try and fight the hurt that was, yet again, creeping in.

The following morning, I was up bright and early, wanting to finish the sketch for Kayla’s wedding cake. She had new ideas last night, which I was more than happy to revise in the drawing.

“Morning, bestie.” She lit up as she entered my small office at the back of the house. “Did you sleep alright?”

I was about to answer when she interrupted. “Actually, scrap that, I know you didn’t. I felt you tossing and turning all night before sneaking out of the room at five this morning.” She sat on the armchair by the window, pulling the throw I kept over the back of it over her legs. “Do you want to talk about Beckett?”

“There isn’t much to say, K.” I didn’t look up at her, keeping my eyes on her cake design instead.

“Put that bloody pencil down for a second and look at me.” I took a deep breath and did as she told me, placing my pencil down on the pad. “Do you still love him?”

“You know I do. I’ve never stopped. Even after everything I thought was true, I couldn’t love anyone else.” I rubbed at my eyes with the palms of my hands.

“Then what do you want? Do you want to try again with him?”

“I don’t know, but right now, my focus is on Liam and him creating a strong foundation for a relationship before he finds out he’s his father.”

“And they can do that, but you shouldn’t have to fight your feelings and give up the right to be happy while that happens”

“I know that. I just?—”

“Just nothing! Invite him to the wedding. Spend that time together alone and have fun.” It was practically a demand, and it was one that I couldn’t deny might be just what I needed. “You don’t need to label anything. Just go together as friends, and see where it could lead later down the line.”

“Maybe…”

“Get your bloody phone out and ask him!” She sat bolt upright with a sudden burst of energy.

“Now?”

“No, tomorrow…” she deadpanned. “Of course now!” she teased as she sat on the edge of her chair with a giddy grin.

I strummed my fingers on my phone screen, staring at his contact information.

“I’m getting old over here. Get a bloody move on.”

“Fine! Just pipe down.” I laughed as I pulled up our message history.

Are you awake?

I am. Is everything okay?

I have a question.

I’m all ears.

Great, but firstly, I want to say sorry for how I snapped last night. That was wrong of me.

I get it, you don’t need to say sorry to me.

I watched the three dots dance rapidly on the screen as I waited to see what else he wanted to say.

I know what you thought was true hurt you. It wouldn’t be fair of me to hold your words against you.

Now, what was the question you wanted to ask me?

Would you like to be my plus one at Kayla’s wedding?

Are you asking me on a date, Miss Ryton?

No… You’ll be my plus one. Just as friends.

Are you sure? It sounds like a date to me.

Is that a yes?

That shouldn’t even be a question, cupcake.

Will Kayla be alright with you asking me?

She added you to the guestlist before I even sent this message.

Send me all the details, and I’ll be there.

Do you need me to pick you up?

I’ll be with Kayla the night before, but if you want, you can stay here with Liam instead of Harry and bring him with you.

I’d love to.

Do you want to come over today? He wants to practice a little in the garden. He could use a goalie.

I’ll be over at 1.

See you then.

When I place the phone down on the desk a second later, I can’t hide the soft smile that plays on my lips.

“So?” Kayla leaned forward, waiting anxiously.

“He’s coming to the wedding.”

“Yes! Just call me a matchmaker!” She clapped her hands together in delight.

“As friends,” I clarified, rolling my eyes as I picked up my pencil. “Nothing romantic about it.”

“You just wait. That man doesn’t just want to rip your clothes off, he wants to love you every single day for the rest of his life, can’t you see that?”

I ignored her question. “He’s going back to Spain.”

She protested. “Not yet he isn’t.”

“That’s enough. Can you check over this sketch?”

“I cannot wait for the day when I get to say, ‘I told you so,’ and when I’m maid of honour at your wedding.” She smirked as she came over to admire the newest sketch.

As Kayla’s words hung in the air—half a tease, half a promise—something fluttered quietly in my chest.

I could almost see it. White lights strung overhead, Beckett’s smile across the aisle, Kayla laughing beside me in a dress she’d definitely complain about but secretly love. It was foolish, maybe. Reckless, even, to let myself picture it again. But I did—for just a moment. For long enough to remember how it used to feel.

Back then, imagining forever with Beckett had been easy. Natural. Like breathing.

But now, hearing Kayla say it like it was inevitable stirred something I thought I had buried.