Page 61 of The Beat Match

“Count me in for it all. And blackmail is still on the table. I’m sure I can come up with a few things to entice you to perform your best.” She raised what she hoped was a seductive eyebrow.

He smiled, but his expression looked strained.

He must be worried about their impending talk. Their precarious future. All surface nonsense, as far as she was concerned. Nothing he could say would change how she felt.

She flattened her hands on his chest, reveled in his masculine firmness. “I love that you called me Squirrel again. It’s weird, but I missed that.” A vulnerable confession. An olive branch she wanted him to grasp: no matter what happens, we won’t lose each other.

“I’ll call you whatever you want. For as long as you let me.” He sounded downright unsure now, slightly pained.

She kissed his jaw. “Whatever talk we need to have changes nothing, so please don’t worry. And you’re going to be late. You should get going.”

He flinched, a small move, but her hands were on his chest. There was no mistaking that slight jolt. Something was going on with him, and it felt like a lot more than a talk about his commitment issues. His nervous energy seeped into her, a gradual churn that had her stomach hollowing out.

He released his hold on her. “We should talk now. Before I go.”

“Okay…” His body was all hard lines and angles, impossibly tense. “Should I sit down for this?”

He gave his head a small shake. “I’ve only dated one woman seriously. You might remember Lila?”

“I do.” Annie hadn’t been jealous of the beautiful redhead, per se. She hadn’t even realized they’d dated seriously, but she’d been catty about her, judging her clothes and voice and perfect skin the way envious girls lashed out.

“I cared about her,” he said, eyes on Annie, never looking away. “I wanted things to work with us, but when she got serious, I panicked. I ghosted on her and never called again. I cut her off, avoided her calls. I hurt her deeply because I’m a disaster when it comes to personal relationships.”

“And you’re worried you’ll do the same to me?”

He nodded, still holding eye contact. He wanted to show her how real this was, the possibility of him pulling another runner, like he had the scrapbooking night. A disappearing act. The way Leo had disappeared on them both. His mother, too. Her parents. Death wasn’t a choice, but leaving was leaving just the same. “You’re afraid to love and lose.” The worry she’d guessed at before they’d made love.

He gave another tight nod.

Did he not see they were already neck deep in this? That she had just as much to lose?

“Even if we’d never slept together, I wouldn’t be able to handle losing you, Wes. There’s no erasing our years together, or how much I care about you. And I think you feel the same. Adding sex—which was awesome, by the way.” He smiled, small but perfect. “Adding sex heightens this thing between us, but there’s still no way to protect ourselves. Best friends or lovers, we’re already attached where it counts. Like your job, in a way. But bigger. Losing each other would be like losing a piece of ourselves.”

He pushed his hands into his pockets, licked his lips. “You’re right. I know you’re right. It’s just taken me longer to realize there’s no fighting us. Keeping you at a distance has only made me feel…empty. Not as bad as if I actually lost you, but this week without you, knowing how you felt and fighting what I wanted, was beyond painful. I just can’t predict how I’ll react as we get closer.”

If he freaked and ditched her, she’d have a massive hole in her heart. How she’d felt the past week, but miles worse. None of it mattered. “There’s no going back from here. You said you’re consumed by me, and I feel the same. Being with you this morning was more intense than I ever expected. And it wasn’t enough.”

“I’m all in, Annie. I want to be inside you again, now. Every second. I want to be your everything more than I want to take my next breath.” But he was still reserved, holding back from her.

“Then let’s do what we want.” In her mind, they only had one option.

He was still so tense, his wide shoulders hitched high. Seducing him could help. A reminder of how great they were together. Kiss that frown off his face, let him know she’d be here if he panicked. She sauntered toward him, an extra sway in her step, and reached for him, but he gripped her wrists.

“I lied,” he said.

She tried to meet his flitting eyes. “When?”

“About Leo’s death.” He looked up, his devastation plain, and she flinched.

She jerked her wrists out of his hold. “I don’t understand.”

Wes swallowed convulsively and started to pace. “That night, at the club, Leo and I separated and were supposed to meet at a certain time, leave before the last couple of songs. He didn’t want to get back to the shelter too late. He was always like that, making sure he got back to you at a reasonable time. And I knew what time it was, knew when he wanted to leave. But I was having fun and chose not to go.”

Wes quit pacing and his arms fell limp by his sides. There was so much defeat in his slumped posture, so much contained agony. Part of her wanted to reach for him again, be his rock. A larger part couldn’t speak. She was frozen. She didn’t want to hear the end of this story, learn new grisly facts she’d have to accept.

“I was selfish,” he said quietly. “I didn’t care what Leo wanted. I liked that I was on the wrong side of town. Being there was a middle finger to my father’s controlling ways. I wanted to be out past curfew, ruffle his perfectly groomed feathers. So I didn’t meet Leo and he came looking for me. That was when the shots rang out. He was hit when he stepped in front of me. He took the bullet for me, even though we shouldn’t even have been there. He died because I was a selfish bastard.”

The plaintiveness in Weston’s voice was undeniable, his remorse palpable, but Annie couldn’t look at him. Leo, the bullets, blood, his riddled body blocking Wes’s—that was all she could see. A new image she’d have to live with. And it felt so fresh. Like he was dying all over again, the brother who’d promised to look after her always.