Opening my car door, I entered, started the engine, and swerved out into the street. Then I floored the gas pedal, leaving Gavin on the porch watching the smoke from the exhaust as I left.
Drive.
That’s all I did. I drove for at least an hour around the city, in the suburbs, everywhere almost. I just wanted to clear my mind,to think—to feel like I was okay even though I knew I wasn’t.
Darkness fell, and finally I parked. My face was wet with tears. I smeared them away, blinking blurred streetlights back into form.
I wanted to speak to Kira… get all my frustration out, and share how I’d been feeling.
Exiting the car, I walked up to the door and knocked lightly as I waited patiently, my fingers trembling slightly. Hearing footsteps, I continued to wipe my tears away as it opened.
I wanted to speak to Kira.
That’s what Iwantedto do.
Beckham’s dark eyes met mine, his gaze settling on me like a heavy brick, scanning my face, taking in my red-rimmed eyes, the damp strands of hair clinging to my neck.
I sniffled softly and his lips parted, like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He just stepped closer.
He smelled like dried paint, leather, mahogany and something deeper—something dark.Something Ishouldn’twant right now.
I wanted to speak to Kira. Speaking to her would have been the smart choice… but I didn’t always make the best decisions, did I?
Chapter fifteen
Rosenna
Beckhamtskedsoftlyashe brought me into his arms. His scent warmed my insides, calming my racing heart, opening my lungs to breathe, stirring something in my lower stomach that was dangerous, dark…
I barely noticed the soft pants hanging low on his hips, the way his muscles flexed against me as he shifted. He had probably been going to bed before I showed up, before I crashed into his once peaceful night.
“I’m sorry for barging in,” I murmured.
He pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, didn’t let me go.
“Anything and everything can wait for you, Flower… no need to apologize.”
I exhaled, my fingers sliding into his before he walked me over to his couch. Realizing I had gotten too close to him, I subtly pulled my hand from his grasp, my finger itching to pull him back.
The lighting was low, golden and warm, casting long shadows across the polished concrete floors. The space was chaotic but intentional, every brushstroke, every sculpture, every half-finished sketch placed like they belonged exactly where they were.
Beckham ushered me onto the sofa then stepped away to the kitchen, returning a couple of minutes later with two hot cups of tea.
He handed me a mug and took a seat. “I was just making some before bed… Perfect timing, hmm?”
I gave a small smile as I looked down at the cup I held in my lap. After taking a sip, I sighed heavily.
“I don’t even know where to start…”
“Start whenever you please… I’ve got all the time in the world for you.”
I sniffled, casting my eyes to the side as I had little courage to look at him directly.
“Gavin and I got into another fight.” My voice cracked slightly, the weight of the night pressing into my chest.
Beckham set his mug down, fingers lacing together as he leaned forward, silently watching as I wiped away a tear.
“His parents stopped by,” I exhaled, forcing myself to breathe. “They didn’t make the situation any better. They blamed me for not being a good wife. Again. Told me I needed to stop focusing on myself. Instead, I should be focusing on providing them with the grandchildren I’ve been keeping from them.”
