Page 50 of Slow Burn

I beam back at him, joy written all over my features.

“Great. Remember you said that on Saturday.”

Chapter 20

Lyla

Sutton stands back in the living room, hands on her hips, admiring our work as I finish taking up the last cluster of brightly coloured balloons.

Beck seems like the exact opposite to the type of person who would enjoy balloons. They’re so whimsical, and utterly pointless. That’s why I insisted he have as many of them as possible.

Skye gasps as she walks in through the foyer. “My brother is going to hate this. It’s amazing.”

Sutton laughs maniacally.

“Is it weird that I kind of hope he likes it?” I ask, trying to keep my expression and tone neutral, not give myself away that underneath all the teasing, it would feel good to do something nice for Beck. There’s a part of me that hopes he has fun.

Sutton waves her arms around, gesturing at the decorations. “It’s only weird if you thought this was going to be a party Beck Hollis would enjoy.”

It’s like a Party Zone exploded in here, like when you microwave a pizza pocket for too long, except what came out of it was colourful balloons, party streamers, and a banner that says ‘another year cooler’. In all fairness, Party Zone is where I bought all this stuff. I made a stop on my way out of the city after my interview.

Skye laughs. “I think all the other guests will love it.”

The funny thing is, this party has been good for me, even if Beck hates it. It’s kept my mind off of the interview, and it’s stopped me from giving into the temptation of watching the video of me circulating on social media.

After my conversation with Beck the other night, I find myself caring a little bit less about how people perceive me. Somehow, his assurance that my “worst” qualities are his favourite ones, made me reevaluate some of the narratives I’ve believed about myself.

But I haven’t stopped caring at all, it seems, because the thought of Beck’s face lighting up as he walks through the door makes my stomach flip flop in an oddly giddy way.

I’m probably just getting my hopes up.

The doorbell rings, and Skye welcomes our first guests. Nash, and the three other ranch hands that Beck hasn’t fired yet. I haven’t had a chance to introduce myself, but I hear Sutton greet them–Leo, Chase, and Marcus apparently.

I told Sutton to extend the invite to whoever he thought Beck would like to have here. And, because I don’t want the party to be a total bust, and I know Beck at least a little, I made sure to keep the guest list small. Only the people he truly cares about.

The jury is still out as to whether or not that list includes me.

More guests trail in behind them, leaving a pile of nearly indistinguishable cowboy boots near the front door. Soon, the house is nearly full, with people milling about in the kitchen, the living room, and even spilling out onto the porch through the wide open sliding door.

“Great party, Lyla.” Nash approaches me and throws a casual arm over my shoulders, nursing a beer in his other hand. At first glance, I wouldn’t have thought he bore any resemblance to Beck, but up close, I can see the Hollis men's genes. The strong square jaw, the straight nose, the rich brown eyes. The only difference I see in this moment is that Nash has sandy blonde hair, whereas Beck’s is dark.

I smile up at him. “Thanks.”

“Hey, I’m really sorry about bringing up the video the other day,” he says, removing his arm and turning to face me. “I thought you knew about it and you’ve never been bothered much by that kind of thing. I didn’t think it would affect you the way it did.”

“Did Beck hold you at gunpoint to make you say that?”

He lets out a low laugh. “No, no. Beck didn’t say anything. It was bothering me.”

“It’s okay, Nash. I appreciate the apology,” I say, and I mean it.

“So, quick question,” he says, changing the subject as he looks around at the tacky decor. “You were intending on throwing a party for my brother, right?”

I laugh, but it’s punctuated by the sound of my phone chiming in my back pocket. Wade said he’d text when he and Beck were five minutes out. He was on board with the plan from day one, and offered to come up with an errand to get Beck out of the house for the morning. He said he needed to refill his prescription, that he’d forgotten and totally ran out of his heart medication.

WADE

were akmost ther