We both stopped, gave awkward chuckles, and said, “Go ahead,” at the same time.
Beck cleared his throat, ducking his head. He’d parked underneath one of the lamp posts, and the yellow light made his bleached hair yellower. “About Lydia,” he began. “I never helped with any kind of revenge plot. I swear. I only went along with whatever she asked because I…” He trailed off, as if embarrassed to admit the next part. “Used it as an excuse to be around you.”
“So youdidn’tconspire for her to bring Carter out into the garden to find us?”
“I knew she wanted to do something tonight,” he admitted. “But I didn’t know what.”
So he had been waiting for her to come out, then. “A heads up would’ve been nice.” But I couldn’t help but smile.
“The most I thought would happen was she’d catch us playing chess.” Some of Beck’s spunk crept back into his expression, a corner of his lip tugging up. He finally, finally, reached for my hand. “I never would’ve dreamed that you’d kiss me.”
His fingers were warm as they turned mine over, holding my hand as if he were marveling at it. “Youshould’ve,” I told him. “It wouldn’t have been the first time.”
Beck gave a strangled laugh.
The night was perfect around us, not too warm, not too cold, but a shiver worked down my spine anyway. I stepped closer to him, so close that the toes of his boots nearly touched my heels. “I only ever saw Carter as a friend,” I said, making sure the words were clear. “You were right when you said I didn’t look at him the way I look at you. It was completely different.”
Beck’s breath caught, and I could’ve grinned at the fact thatI’ddone that. That I’d caught him off guard and taken his breath away.
“I missed you so much,” I went on, heart beating fast. The words I’d wanted to say before finally came out, finally feeling like it was the perfect time. “Every single Alderton-Du Ponte party, I wished you were there with me. I kept your phone number because I always hoped one day you’d call me and I’d know to pick up. I don’t think a single day passed that I didn’t think about you. And when I ran into you at Senior Night, it was like my heart kick-started again.”
“You have no idea,” Beck whispered, lowering his head closer to mine. “No idea how badly I wanted to call you. Just to hear your voice one more time. To hear you spell words that you didn’t even know the meaning of.”
“I know the meaning of them.” Most of them.
A breathy chuckle escaped him. “I meant it when I said you were my best friend back then. I only saw you acouple times a month, but you were the most important person in the world to me. You…are.”
I closed my eyes at the confession, reveling in it.R-E-V-E-L-I-N-G. It was a soft, aching word, one that reminded me of another.I-N-E-V-I-T-A-B-L-E.
“After everything with my parents,” he went on, “I’m used to not getting chosen. To wanting someone else more than they want me. I never thought you’d be missing me as much as I’d missed you.”
“More,” I insisted, emotion squeezing my throat. “And screw them. I’ll choose you, over and over again until you’re sick of me.”
Beck gave a little snort. “As if.” He leaned back ever so slightly then, but only to retrieve something from his pocket. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you a present,” he murmured, pulling out my necklace. Both charms were back on the chain, and he unclasped it. “If it’s any consolation, I didn’t get Jamie one either.”
He was waiting for me to turn so he could clasp my necklace, but I just looked into his eyes. There was only one thing I wanted, anyway. “Stay here. Don’t do a summer semester at Stanford.”
Beck had probably already bought a ticket, probably had already enrolled in classes, but I asked anyway. Selfish, maybe. Desperate, definitely.
Beck smirked a little. “I know you so well, Eleanor Brighton.” He leaned forward, stretching the necklace around my neck, hair brushing my cheek as he leaned past me to secure it. Then one of his hands slipped to my waist, the pressure sparking me alive. “Next, you’ll ask if Ican see about transferring my credits to Mullhound next fall.”
I nearly gasped. “Can you do that?”
A wide grin broke out across his face, and he actually looked away, too flustered. “Twist my arm, why don’t ya?”
Oh, I was sure my heart was about to burst as I looked up at him. His eyes were bright, and the glazed, almost hollow look to them was gone. Now when he looked at me, they looked alive. I knew he still carried so much weight on his shoulders—with his parents, with his self-worth—but I wanted to take all the pressure for myself. I wanted to wrap my arm around him and be sure nothing could hurt him again.
Which, yeah, was impossible, but whatwasn’timpossible was that I’d be there with him through it all.
“You never had to remind me what it was like to like someone, Beckham Jennings,” I told him, pressing my other hand against his chest. I could feel his own heart thumping hard, and I could’ve sworn it matched my own beat for beat. “I’d never, ever forgotten.”
It felt like so long ago, his promise that had branded me like fire. And now this moment was another memory burned into my brain, one I’d never forget.
I saw the exact moment Beck’s eyes shattered. Whatever had been holding him back, whatever had kept him from giving in, snapped, and just like earlier when I’d surged forward, Beck all but fell toward me now, feeling a magnetic pull of his own.
The second Beck’s lips met mine, a soft sigh escaped him. His hands came up to cup my cheeks, fingerstender on my skin. This kiss was sweeter than before as the two of us melted into it, my fingers splaying over his chest, and now I was certain his pulse matched mine, a rapid beat that left my head spinning.
Beck pulled back a fraction of an inch and kissed my lips again, and then again, and then the corner of my mouth, and then my cheek. My stomach swooped as he pressed kiss after kiss, adorning a path of fire along my skin. And then, blessedly, he brought his mouth back to mine.
