“Daddy got a big bonus, huh?”
More like Daddy quit.“Mom, actually.”
Beck studied the exterior of the house for a beat longer before turning to look over his shoulder. A startled laugh burst from him. “You should see your hair right now. Looks like a bird’s nest.”
I froze in the backseat, but not because anger washed over me—it was because his laugh had been sogenuine. Familiar. There was no sardonic undertone or mocking malice in his eyes. Heat crawled up the back of my neck, because it took metoooff guard. That realization had my voice snapping. “Just unbuckle my seatbelt, would you?”
Beck popped his door open, flipped his seat over, and climbed into the backseat. “Bossy, bossy,” he grumbled, but that smile still touched his mouth. “I guessthat’snot new.”
“I wasn’t bossy when I was little.”
“You totally were. When the little kids played in oneof the empty meeting rooms, you always told everyone what roles they were.” He placed one knee on the bench seat beside me. “Lydia couldn’t be the princess, becauseyouwere already the princess.”
He was talking about when we werereallylittle, then, when we still playedsave the princess,and before Mom started making me be at her side in the ballroom. “You were never around us when we played those games.”
“Wasn’t I?”
“I never saw you.” He was always out in the garden. Because even then, when we’d been really little, no one had wanted to play with him.
Beck’s lips twitched, but this time, it wasn’t a smile.
With him leaning in, I could see the indents on his nose where his sunglasses had been resting. Something about it was so…normal. The tough, cool guy facade that he gave off was shattered by the little ovals pressed into his nose.
And then his hand brushed my hip. He slid two fingers underneath the belt at my waist, lifting it from my body to take it into his hands. His knuckles brushed against the front of my stomach, where my skirt dug into the spot at my belly button, and he movedslowly. Like he was purposefully taking his time.
S-L-O-W-L-Y.The letters crawled by as heat crawled up my neck.
A little line formed between Beck’s eyebrows, and I realized hewasn’tdoing it on purpose. “Hang on.” The words were quiet, almost like they were more of a thought as he pushed harder against the buckle.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
A soft chuckle escaped his lips.
“Why did you show up today?”
“To your school?” he asked, sounding surprised. “I told you.”
Now I frowned. He had?
Beck paused in trying to get the buckle to click, lifting his gaze to me. The green of his irises almost glowed, as if the sunlight stirred inside the color. His lashes were so dark, matching his roots but not his hair. “I said I’ll remind you what it’s like to really want someone.”
“And you showing up to my school is doing that?”
“Not necessarily.” A corner of his lips pulled up as his gaze darted to the side. “Kinda. But not exactly.”
“Thenwhy?”
The old crush that’d held me hostage through the years gripped me now, as suddenly as if Beck’s hand had shot out and grabbed my throat. He might as well have, for how impossible it was to suck in a breath. The air was tinged with the woody scent of him, a smell that was different, yet the same. I refused to breathe it in.
He turned back to the seatbelt. “I was bored.”
“Beckham.” His name was quiet on my tongue, and thankfully, the hushed quality made me sound resigned—not shaken. “It’s not going to work. Whatever you’re trying to do… it’s not going to work.”So please stop trying.
With his knee still pressed into the seat, Beck leaned impossibly closer, lowering until his nose was level with mine. Six inches stretched between us. Maybe less. “Eleanor.” His voice was patient, almost warm, as if hewere speaking to a child. His green eyes went from my left eye to my right eye. “Are you sure about that?” And then his gaze dropped to my mouth.
I was instantly aware of myself—of how my lips were parted and slightly chapped, and my hair was a tangled mess, and my uniform collar was sweaty from sitting in the sun.
When you want someone, you’ll look at their mouth. You’ll imagine kissing them. You won’t be able to help it.
