Page 66 of As the Rain Falls (Sainte Madeleine #1)

LET'S NEVER FIGHT AGAIN, OKAY?

Cassandra

I finish oiling the ends of my hair, getting ready to go out with Caleb and some of his friends. The blowout is making the long strands shorter and bouncier than usual. I still don’t know if I quite like the look of it, but it’s too late to shower and get ready all over again.

Just as I get down the stairs, the bell starts to ring.

I freeze, slowing down my steps before unlocking the front door and opening it. The face I’m greeted with almost makes me take a full step back. I feel like I haven’t talked to my neighbor in forever, and it’s a total surprise to see him standing at my door.

Beckett waits patiently, his damp hair now looking a few shades darker than usual. Water drips onto the welcome-home carpet, and a few stray drops darken the fabric of his shirt too. The pink flush of his sunburnt skin brings out the few freckles beneath his eyes, making them pop more than usual.

Something about the way he keeps pulling his lower lip between his teeth makes my chest tighten. The small, nervous habit turns him into someone younger, more vulnerable, if not a little guarded.

I hate how easily he can pull off the messy look. If I went to the beach without putting a good conditioner on first, my hair would fall off.

Before I can say anything, he starts to spill out, pressing a fruit basket closer to his chest to hide the nerves.

“I know that maybe you don’t want to talk to me because I ignored you first, and that’s fine, but I came here to apologize, and now that I’ve made up my mind, I’m sure as hell going to.”

“Okay.”

“I was a real jerk that night, and maybe I had my own reasons to act that way, but I could’ve handled it better. I miss my friend. I want her back. You . I want you back, Cassie.”

I blink, still caught off guard.

For someone who has a bit of trouble flirting with people, Beckett doesn’t realize that sometimes, his words give off a different idea or should be used in a totally different context.

It’s what got me to misinterpret his affection as a friend for something more that night at the fundraiser. I won’t be making the same mistake again, not unless I feel brave enough to make a move on him, which is definitely not the case right now.

Fool me once, shame on you.

But fool me twice? Well…

“My brother insulted your family and you.” I hesitate before adding, “You don’t need to apologize to me if you don’t feel like doing it.”

“But you are not your brother, are you?” He takes a step closer, wetting his lips nervously. “And I got angry.”

“I would’ve gotten angry too,” I admit quietly, trying not to let the way his guilt shows in his eyes affect me. “What I said was so uncalled for.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“Yeah, but I don’t even know why I went there, and I understand completely why you felt the way you felt, Beckett. I don’t mind it.”

A flashback comes to mind.

The car.

The bridge.

Him.

The cold breeze is making my teeth chatter. My fingers are gripping the edges of the seat. Our car smells of smoke. Cigarettes. A smell so thick, so overwhelming, that it’s hard to avoid.

Nathaniel is not making any sense, muttering under his breath words that I can’t make out. When I ask him where he’s taking me, he calls me by her name.

He thinks I’m her, but I’m not.

I’m not Lucia Evans, and I will never be.

“Well, I do,” he exhales sharply, cutting through my thoughts. “I don’t want to get angry at you like that ever again.”

The strings that are deeply tangled inside of me become loose as I listen to him speak.I feel the lingering ache that had settled in my chest and in my heart over the time we spent not talking to each other starting to fade away. I now realize just how much I hated feeling it in the first place.

Beckett and I, we can’t be friends.I’m no good for him, and I know that. And yet, I still missed this . I missed actually talking to him, how easy it feels, and how I never have to question whether his intentions are good or not.

“Come in,” I ask impulsively, wanting to know what else he has to say. “Let’s talk inside.”

“Is your brother not around?” he hesitates, sounding unsure. “Maybe I shouldn’t.”

“He’s working,” I explain, pushing the door wider. “Robert got him a job after the fundraiser.”

“Oh.”

He steps inside, and I lock the door shut behind us.

“Can you help me with my dress?” I ask, turning my back to show him the back of the dress, gesturing towards the zipper. “You just have to pull it.”

“Uhm,” Beckett swallows hard before he carefully sets the fruit basket down, stepping closer to me. “Do I just pull like… Okay, like this?”

The dress is black and tight fitted, hugging my body just a little too well. Maybe I should’ve gone a size up instead.

Well, it’s too late now, anyway.

He starts to struggle a little bit, and I mutter.

“Wait.” I suck in my stomach, holding my breath. “Okay, go on.”

“You don’t need to do all that. My fingers are just slippery.” Beckett huffs out a quiet laugh, his left hand steadying my shoulder. “You know, I forgot to say it before, but Pepé really misses you.”

I pull my hair up, glancing over my shoulder. “Does he?”

“He keeps trying to escape through the back door just to see you. I think he really has a crush.”

“That’s adorable.” I grin. “But I’m basically his godmother.”

“Lucia did think of him as her child,” he admits with a soft chuckle. “You can breathe again now.”

I spin around. “How do I look?”

Beckett’s gaze flickers over me briefly before he clears his throat and looks away. I tilt my head curiously, wondering why he’s pretending not to hear me.

“So?”

I smile patiently, feeling a surge of confidence.

Maybe I’m really over Beckett Evans and the silly little crush I had on him. But it doesn’t mean I’m totally unaffected.He affects me still, just a little. And maybe, just maybe… Some part of me wants to affect him the tiniest bit back.

I really wish I could get him to see me as more than just the girl who also happens to be his neighbor, but it’s never going to happen. I can’t help but try, though.

“Should I change?” I ask, running a hand down my hip. “Use something else?”

Beckett’s throat bobs.

“You always look good to me, Cass,” his voice is quieter now, and his words are spoken in a more delicate ways. “You should know that by now.”

The soft tone in which Beckett speaks when he talks to me makes me want to step closer and reach out to him, grab him, and never let him go. No one is here to stop me—not my father, not my brother, not even Caleb—and so I do.

I quickly move to grab his hand, intertwining our fingers together. Beckett’s thumb brushes against my skin almost compulsively, as if he’s memorizing what it feels like to be touching me.

“It still feels good to be reminded.”

I tilt my head up, squeeze his hand a little tighter. Beckett steps closer. Suddenly, this feels like dancing at the fundraiser all over again.

“Cassandra,” Beckett whispers my name like it’s a warning, and I get momentarily obsessed with the way he speaks. It’s low, half-slurred, as if the action of saying the words out loud is a little boring to him.

“Beckett.” I smile, pretending not to feel the burn of his gaze. “Hi.”

Dating Caleb Monteiro taught me some things, and it turns out boys are almost all the same. I know exactly how to make them pause, look, and want me.

The thing is, Beckett isn’t Caleb. He doesn’t play along. I can give him my doll eyes, the please-flirt-with-me kind of look that I only reserve for Caleb when we’re stealing secret glances at each other in the cafeteria, but Beckett won’t fall for them as easily.

It makes me wonder if Beckett would rather have someone reading his mind instead.

Would he even be comfortable with someone else trying to decipher every bit of him that’s kept hidden under lock?

Would it be easier for us to understand one another?

I smile without showing teeth.

“Are we friends again?”

He rolls his blue eyes at me. “Stop.”

“Okay, I will,” I answer softly. “So… I take it you really like my dress?”

Beckett studies me for a moment, his jaw tight.It reminds me of the look he gave me when he saw me wearing his jacket a few weeks back. I didn’t do that on purpose. In fact, I didn’t even know he’d be there.It was all a huge coincidence, and it felt good back then to watch him be so mad about it.

“I like the dress.”

“Good.”

“Mn.”

I grin happily, and because I can’t quite resist it, I drop the next bomb just to see what he does with it.

“Hopefully, Caleb will like it too.”

“Right.” His body goes rigid, the blue in his eyes darkening to a muted color. “Caleb.”

Beckett scratches his chin and looks away, his nose turning a bright shade of red. I trace his profile with my gaze, following the tension in his broad shoulders.

I kind of want to bite them now .

“You’re still seeing him?” he asks.

“Yeah, I am.” I tilt my head towards the fruit basket, smoothly switching the topic of conversation. After all, whatever reaction he might be willing to give me doesn’t really matter unless he is ready to do something about it. “What is all this?”

Beckett stares at me, unimpressed.

I try to stifle a laugh.

“Well is giving some stuff away. We’re overflowing with bananas.”

I gasp, “I love bananas! This smells so good.”

The bright yellow fruit glows at my feet, looking so fresh.

“I can’t believe you’re giving me all this for free.”

“You took care of my dog,” he tells me, like it’s nothing. His thumb caresses the back of my hand, making my heart jump. “I thought you’d like me to return the favor.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to pay me back. You know that, right?” I glance at him again, ignoring the way his cargo pants hit the floor, worn out at the bottom from all the farm work.His shirt fits him so nicely, his strong arms looking like something I could really hold onto if I needed it.

“We’re friends.”

“The bestest.” Beckett gives me an once-over, looking away after he realizes what he’s done. “But I really wanted to.”