Am I an ass girl?
It’s only when a skateboarding kid on the bike path whips his head around to look at me that I realize I’ve said that out loud too.
“Shit,” I mutter.
Beck disappears behind the Beignet Box truck, so I close my eyes again. Even if I could keep them open, I might be quieter with them closed. It’s worth a shot.
And I could fall right back into the mental hellscape of my run-in with Ms. Alicia and the near certainty that my parents are about to find out I went on a date without telling them or the humiliation of hearing Merrick’s mom tell Beck I’m not independent.
But I didn’t like that moment while I was living it and reliving it isn’t going to be any better.
Not that willing myself against unwelcome thoughts has ever really worked for me, but leaning back in the wooden chair with the sun on my face and the sounds of children shrieking with glee on the swings, the trill of—what is that, frogs?—frogs, then, at the edge of the pond, and the fall breeze twirling through the trees are way better focal points.
Especially since my arms and legs are so heavy. I suppose there are worse places to feel like you can’t move.
I’ve hardly had my eyes closed for a minute before I hear him. When I open my eyes, Beck is shaking out an olive-green fleece blanket at my feet. He’s not even out of breath. How is that possible?
“It might look old, but I promise, it’s clean,” he says, tugging at the edges so the blanket smooths out. Then he takes a knee, reaches a hand out to me, and cocks his head to the side. “Lie down with me?”
I may have zero strength, but I’d have to be dead not to accept that offer.
As soon as I take his hand, Beck helps me out of the chair, and even though I feel like dead weight in a cute dress, I somehow manage to go horizontal without all of Moncus Park seeing up my skirt.
Beck keeps his hand banded tight around mine as he stretches out beside me. The ground is hard and a little lumpy beneath the blanket, but I don’t care. It’s like the earth is solid enough to take my weight, so I give it, letting my eyes close on the hyper blue sky.
I feel Beck shift onto his side, one knee pressing into the side of my thigh. Our bodies touch in just two places, but I like it. And I sense I’d like a lot more.
One day.
When I don’t feel like a zapped battery.
“This okay?” His voice is low and close. I like that too.
I turn my face toward him and open my eyes. He’s close, but I wish he were closer.
God, he’s so beautiful.
So golden and warm.
He’s asked me a question. I’m not even sure what it was, but I think the answer must be yes, so I nod.
The corner of his mouth lifts, giving him that little parenthesis smile. Damn, I really love that smile.
“Thank you for staying.” His brows draw in a little. “I hope it’s not too much to ask.”
Oh, right.
He’s talking about me. About me shutting down.
“No. It’s okay,” I manage, my eyes drifting closed again. “But…”
A moment passes.
“But what?” he asks gently.
I inhale to gather my strength. “I don’t want to talk.”
He squeezes my hand. “We’ll be quiet then.”
