Page 30

He stares at me. “Do I?”

Beck stands on the other side of the coffee table. “Nothing—”

I cut him off by holding up my hand, fury boiling in my veins. I step toward Noah, close enough I can feel the heat of his body.

“I know you’re upset, but don’t be like this. You told me you trust me, and you know how much I love you. I’m here, aren’t I? I didn’t run like you’ve been doing. I’m not getting angry at the obvious history you downplayed with Beck.”

His face softens. “Quinn—”

“If you really think I would do that to you, then we have more problems here,” I say firmly.

Noah steps forward, and I let him cup my cheeks. “No, no. I’m sorry, I’m just—fuck, I’m just—” His voice cracks. “I’m confused why you want to stay so badly, and this is…a lot.” His voice cracks again.

I take him in my arms without thinking or caring that Beck is watching us. The last time Noah came this close to crying was when he saw me walk down the aisle. He shudders, his warm breath against my ear.

“I’m sorry, Sunshine. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I keep screwing up.”

“Shh,” I say, gripping the back of his heated neck with my hand. “I know, baby.”

He clutches me tighter, and I hold him until his body softens and my own anger eases. Beck is observing us carefully, his fists still clenched at his sides, but there’s worry in his eyes now.

I brush my hand over Noah’s hair then pull him back so I can meet his gaze. “I know this is confusing; it’s confusing for me, too.”

“I know,” he says, his tone sincere. “But I need you to know that when I told you about Beck all those years ago…” He pauses but doesn’t regard the man watching us. “I wasn’t lying when I said he was my past. You’re my present and my future. You’re my everything, Sunshine.”

Beck remains silent, and my heart aches for him despite myself for hearing what should have been a private statement between me and my husband.

I swallow down the lump in my throat and brush my thumb over Noah’s cheek. “Which is why we need to stay and why I want Beck to be our mentor.”

Noah draws in a breath, clearly preparing to argue again, but instead, he nods. “I understand.”

Surprise tickles my throat. “You do?”

“Maybe not completely, but I want to. I told you I was in this with you, and I wasn’t lying. So if this is what you really want, then we’ll stay.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

Noah and I turn so we’re both facing Beck. His arms are crossed over his barreled chest, the tattoo of what I found out is a phoenix more prominent on his bicep in the morning light and with the way his muscles tense and flex than it was last night.

I step away from Noah, but he holds my hand tight in his, keeping me next to him.

“Of course you do, Beck,” I say. “I want you to be comfortable.”

His stare penetrates me, as if he’s attempting to read my soul. Eventually, he speaks again, resigned. “If I do this, I need to know you’re both committed.”

“I am,” I reply quickly, worried that if I don’t act fast, he’ll change his mind.

Beck’s lip twitches. “I know you are, but—”

“I’m committed,” Noah cuts in.

Beck’s body transforms, his chest forward and arms now at his sides, like he’s about to go into a head-to-head challenge with Noah. “There won’t be any running away when things get hard. Can you do that?”

Noah grips my hand and doesn’t hesitate to answer, rising to Beck’s provocation. “I won’t.”

“And if you try to use our past to belittle me or what I’m trained to do, I’m out. I’m here to help you both; this retreat is not for me.”

“Okay,” Noah says.