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I wake up to bright light filling the room. Becka is asleep curled away from me. We aren’t touching, but my body faces hers. I can’t tell if she’s awake yet, so I lift my head and try to look around her, but I’m still not sure.
“Becks,” I whisper.
“Hmm,” she mumbles. Then she quickly rolls over, her hand to her chest, and looks at me with wide eyes. “Oh shit, I thought it was a dream.”
Oh, thank God. Maybe she won’t be too mad at me after all.
Relief must show on my face because she gets a questioning look. “Trent?”
“Last night was crazy, right? I’m so glad we’re on the same page. I was worried we messed up our friendship.”
Her expression turns neutral, but she shifts so she’s lying on her back and looking up at me as I rest my head on my hand. “You were worried?”
“Yeah, I mean sex usually changes things.” I grab her hand and hold it tightly with mine. I stare at her earnestly, deciding I need to put it all on the line to make sure I smooth this over as much as possible. I’m desperate not to lose her. “I don’t want anything to change with us, Becka. Your friendship means the world to me. You’ve given me something I didn’t think I’d ever find again—someone who wants to know me, the real me. I don’t want last night to ruin what we have.”
Her face doesn’t change, but her eyes bounce back and forth between mine. I wish I knew what she was thinking. The silence is killing me. My heart starts pounding heavily waiting for her to say something, anything.
“Becka?”
Her eyes get big and wide, but her face remains carefully blank, which seems weird for her. “Sorry. I guess I’m still waking up and a little slow.” She turns away and goes to roll out of the bed but stops. Her cheeks flush bright pink, and she turns to me. “Um, I’m still naked under here.” She pats the covers that I placed over her when I got back in bed last night.
“Oh, right. Sorry. Here, I’ll cover my eyes.”
“Thanks,” she says, but her word sounds soft and hollow. Fuck, is she embarrassed? I don’t want that either, but I also don’t want to rock the boat any more than necessary. This is going better than I thought it would, so it’s probably best that I don’t say much more. I feel the bed shift and hear Becka opening and closing drawers while I keep my hand over my eyes. I’m tempted to peek, to get one last look at her beautiful body before it’s gone from me for good. But I fight the urge because I don’t want to make things more awkward.
She clears her throat. “You can look now.”
I uncover my eyes to see her in a pair of baggy sweats and an oversized sweatshirt. It’s like she’s hiding her body from me, and I hate it, even though I have no right to feel that way. I wanted friendship and that’s what she’s giving me. I’m lucky she’s not yelling at me for last night.
“I’m gonna go make some coffee. You’re welcome to get dressed in here and head out whenever.”
She walks out of the room, and I stare at her retreating back. Something feels off. I quickly get dressed and head to the kitchen where she’s standing at the island counter, holding a steaming cup of coffee in her hands and staring unseeingly out the window on the other side of her open living room. Even from here, you can see the distant crash of waves. It really is a beautiful view, but I’m more interested in figuring out the woman in the room.
I approach her cautiously. “Hey. You okay?”
She turns to me and smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, just tired.” She takes a sip of her coffee and looks away again.
She could be tired, but I feel like there’s more. I pull my phone out of my pocket and look at the time. I see a couple of texts from Tristan and one from Miles and notice that I need to leave right now if I’m going to make it back to my place in time for our meeting with the tour manager Robbie lined up.
Fuck.
I’m reluctant to leave her, but I also can’t just bail on a meeting. “I gotta head out.”
She nods but doesn’t make eye contact. “I figured.”
I head for the door, turning back to her before I open it. “Are we okay? You know, after everything that happened last night?”
She looks at me, her face back to that carefully neutral expression I’m starting to hate. “Yeah, we’re fine.”
I stare at her for a long moment before nodding and walking out. I’m halfway to my house before I get the sinking feeling that she was lying to me.
16
I stare at the door that Trent just walked through. The click of the latch thunders in my head, and I rush over and throw the deadbolt ensuring he can’t come back in. The second it’s locked I slide to the floor and finally let the tears fall free. My shattered heart still pounds in my chest, but it hurts with every shaky breath I take.
How did my perfect night turn into my worst nightmare?
