Page 9

The Past

His fingers locked around my arm, squeezing. He squeezed me so tightly, my fingertips went numb and the muscle beneath my skin pulsed in agony. I’d be bruised tomorrow for sure.

“You like him?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t even know him. He’s—he’s your friend.”

“He likes you.”

“I don’t care.”

“He says you’re off limits. You’re my sister.” He smirked bitterly. “But we both know you’re mine.”

His fingers pulsed as a rush of anger swooped through his eyes, and I whimpered. “You’re hurting me.”

“I don’t care.” He said through his teeth, but his grip loosened. “Tell me what he said to you.”

“He didn’t say anything. He asked for a glass of water, that’s it.

” I wished his friends hadn’t come over tonight.

I wished I could have decided to study in my room, rather than in the kitchen.

But it’d been quieter down here than in my room.

My room was next to his—and he and his friends had been listening to really loud music.

“It didn’t look like nothing.”

“I swear—it was nothing.”

I flinched at the sound of the front door slamming closed, rattling the house. His eyes flared at the knowledge that his parents were home, and through gritted teeth, he announced. “I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

And then he was gone, and I was left staring at the closed door of my bedroom with tears burning the whites of my eyes.

I could still feel the harsh throb of his hand around my arm—a memory brought on by the tender, but frighteningly familiar way Beckett had held me moments before.

I knew Beckett wasn’t him. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me like he had.

He’d proved as much by the gentle way he’d handled me even through his frustration, but still, he’d frightened me.

And he’d torn loose a memory I wished to keep locked away.

My back was against my door and tears were spilling from my eyes as I gasped, pulling quick breaths into my lungs.

I was thinking this was becoming a kind of habit. I was also thinking it was a habit I needed to break. ASAP.

But right now, like it or not, I was a sobbing mess.

His words had stolen my breath, and quite possibly a little piece of my heart.

Every word that fell from his lips chiseled away a little more of the wall I’d built around my heart.

It was amazing how quickly something I spent years crafting could crumble.

But the wall was crumbling, and Beckett Davis was the one demolishing it.

Sucking in a deep breath, I pushed myself from the door to my dresser. As Beckett proposed, I pulled out my favorite pair of fluffy purple jammies. They weren’t sexy at all, but they were warm and cozy and everything I needed tonight.

I never would have guessed that my well-crafted strength would be obliterated by the man in the next room.

He was a funny guy. He was never serious and always cocky.

I thought my heart was safe with him. If I had thought for even a moment that he could pull me into his web of feelings, I never would have moved in.

I would have run from him. I would have saved myself before it came to this.

But it’s too late now. The year has begun and I couldn’t find a room to rent at the awesome deal I have here with Beckett if I sold my left kidney.

I’m stuck and I’m hell bent to make the best of it.

So I’ll put on my ugly, ridiculously comfy jammies and I’ll gorge on Chinese, making it clear to the man that I don’t want anything more than friendship, so he’ll have to take it or leave it, because I don’t have it in me for anything more.

I’ll never have it in me for anything more. Never.

One. Two. Three.

Deep breath in with a deep breath out. Clear the mind. Harden the heart and things will be all right.

I’ve told myself these words almost every day since as far back as I could remember. Somewhere along the way they became my prayer. My saving grace. My protection and my courage.

The words became the foundation to the thick wall I’d built to withstand all the hurt anyone I could ever meet might intend to throw at me.

But no matter how strong those words were, they weren’t strong enough to craft a foundation capable of keeping out Joss, Raina, Maddy, and now the most dangerous of them all—Beckett.

But I still had my face. The mask I’d worn every day for so long that it was nearly automatic. As soon as I woke, it slipped into place. I wore my bitterness like a shield and I wielded my lashing tongue like the sharpest sword.

Maybe my wall was crumbling, but I hadn’t lost my entire arsenal quite yet. For now, I was safe enough.

At least, that’s what I decided to tell myself as I opened my bedroom door to step into the hall.

One fleece covered leg moved and the other followed not far behind as I walked myself to the living room.

It was there that I noticed Beckett in the kitchen, standing behind the island counter.

He wore a pair of blue plaid pajama pants that hung impossibly low on his gloriously carved hips and a gray housecoat that he left hanging open to expose the lickable tan skin with all the ripped glory that was his chest.

I’d seen plenty of men with their shirts off, Kaiden included. The man had a penchant for going shirtless in the mornings. If Kaiden had a cup of coffee, there was no shirt. Raina excused the nonsense with “he’s building a good tradition, my girl” or “we appreciate good traditions.”

But this wasn’t tradition. This was like seeing the Holy Grail for the first freaking time. Awing. Pure righteousness.

And clearly this whole plan I had to keep myself hard and unaffected was doomed.

I was feeling melty again.

“Figured I’d get everything open so we can pile it onto plates.”

“Sounds great.” I said, praying my mask was holding even though all the glue that seemed to hold me together was melting away, bit by bit, every time I was in this man’s presence.

“You wanna watch something sappy? Women seem to like that stuff and I figured I’m man enough to give you what you want,” his warm teasing eyes lifted to mine. “At least for tonight.”

“Actually,” I shook my head, knowing I was totally going to surprise him. “I’m not feeling that tonight.”

“What are you feeling?”

“I have the boxed set of Game of Thrones. I’ve been dying to see it, but I’ve never been much for TV and I hate waiting for things I love.

Figured now that six seasons are out I’m good.

They’ve been sitting in my room, but I haven’t had much time to watch.

” I could feel something like excitement bubbling up in my belly as I moved closer to the island. “What do you think?”

“I think we can make it through at least one season tonight.”

“You haven’t seen it?”

“Oh, I’ve seen it.”

“And you want to watch it again?”

“It’s that good.” He winked and my silly heart fluttered. “But I’m warning you, don’t get attached to any of the characters. They’ll either die or get so brutally hurt that death would have been preferred.”

“That bad?”

“That bad.” He confirmed.

“Good.” I decided. “I don’t want hearts and flowers tonight.”

“Then you’ve ordered the right series.” He chuckled. “No hearts in the Game Of Thrones —unless you count the ones being ripped out and tossed away like trash.”

“Just what I need tonight.” I informed, swiping my plate and filling it with deliciousness. “And this, this looks so good right now.”

“You look good, by the way.” He said and I felt suddenly fluttery in my belly. “I like the ugly pajamas. They work.”

“They aren’t that ugly.”

“They’re pink.”

My eyes snapped to his, because this was real business. “They are not pink. They are purple! Are you colorblind?”

Beckett wasn’t colorblind. He was laughing. Actually, he was a hysterical mess of laughter as he crouched over, holding his gut, sobbing with man-giggles. “I was kidding. They’re purple. I just like messing with you.”

“You’re . . .”

“I’ve never known anyone to get so defensive over purple before.”

I bit my lip and stayed quiet, just glaring at him over the counter. Then I added another two lemon chicken balls to my plate. “Whatever.”

He laughed harder.

I glared harder.

“There are DRAGONS!” I twisted to look at Beckett with wide, excited eyes. “Dragons! We have to start season two.”

“Woman,” he groaned. “I’m going to pass out.”

“But—dragons.”

He chuckled. “You’ll have tons of time to see the dragons later.”

“But . . .” I huffed, seeing the dark coloring under his eyes and remembering the intense week he had studying late into each night. “We have to watch at least one episode a day. I need to know about those dragons.”

“Think I can manage that, peanut.” Beckett was standing, moving to the kitchen with our plates.

I turned off the system and joined him in the kitchen. I poured myself a raspberry juice, downed it and declared, “I’m going to have a bath. See you in the morning.”

“Night, beautiful.” I tried not to flinch at his words. “Sweet dreams.”

“You too, Beckett.”

Saturday morning was a morning I spent with Maddy, but this Saturday, after staying up so late into the night with Beckett, all I wanted to do was sleep in.

Still, when my alarm went off at six-thirty, I pulled my booty out of bed.

If I didn’t, Maddy would ask questions. I didn’t want to answer questions about Beckett.

It was when I was padding into the kitchen for a cup of mud that I noticed the light was on. And then I noticed the man with the books spread out at the counter. His hair was a mess and he looked like he’d already had about ten cups of coffee.

“Morning,” He startled at my voice, twisting to look at me.

“Hey, is it that time already?”

“Already? How long have you been awake?”

“A while,” he shrugged. “Made coffee.”

“I see that.” I was already on route to the pot. “Did you get any sleep?”

“A few hours.”

“I think med school is going to kill you,” leaning into the counter, I watched him exhale. “You’ve gotta have balance.”

“There’s no balance. Talk to either one of my parent’s and they’ll tell you as much.”

“Right,” I breathed. “But you can’t not sleep.”

“I slept.”

“A few hours isn’t sleep. Is that even enough time for someone to hit REM sleep?”

“Most people hit REM sleep within ninety to a hundred and twenty minutes of being asleep.”

“Sometimes you’re too smart.”

“It’s just a fact.”

“Okay, Dr. Davis, but you still need more than a few hours of sleep a night.”

“I think med school stretches you so thin so it can prepare you for the hours you might keep on shift.”

“What?” I frowned. “Are you telling me doctors don’t sleep?”

“Pretty much.”

“Right,” I snorted, sipping the hot liquid. “Well, I better get ready for the gym and you should get your butt back to bed.”

“Do you work today?”

“Yeah.”

He dipped his chin, eyes back on his paper. “I’ll be ready for our show tonight.”

I stiffened. “Is that why you’re up so early? So you can watch Game of Thrones with me?”

“No.”

He was lying. I could practically smell the stench of it. “Don’t push yourself, Beckett. I have plans tonight anyway.”

“You do?” He was the one frowning now.

“Yes.”

“With who?”

“What does it matter?”

“You’re ditching our show for someone else. I want to know who trumps dragons.”

“Maddy and or Raina.” I said. “But definitely Maddy.”

I didn’t actually have plans quite yet, but by the time I was done with the gym, Maddy and I would have plans for tonight like it or not.

“Right,” he rubbed his temples. “Well, I think I’ll take your advice and catch a few hours of shut-eye so I can get back to it.”

I nodded, started walking from the room and paused. “Take care of yourself, Beckett.”

His warm eyes softened in a way I didn’t, but so did, like.

I didn’t give him time to respond as I turned and moved down the hall.