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Shit shit shit shit shit.
This was my fault. I was sure of it.
I knew I was going to miss something in that meeting with the neighborhood liaison, Paul Minner. I’d tried to listen, but he just talked so damn much that I couldn’t keep my mind focused. Maybe I really was just an irresponsible idiot. Beckett would have listened better. He would have caught this early enough to prevent this embarrassing public spectacle.
Dad thought our prank was embarrassing, but it had nothing to do with our ability to get the job done. After seeing this—when I really had embarrassed the Potter legacy—would he follow through on that ultimatum? I never thought so before, but now I wasn’t so sure. I’d fucked up. Bad.
Even if he accepted our relationship, how would he accept this?
Tucker smoothly wrapped up the meeting in a matter of minutes, and the second he did, I turned on my heel, fleeing for the nearest exit at the front of the room. I needed to get away from the crowd of eyes that’d watched me fumble for answers. Away from Dad, whose disapproval stung like ants biting my skin.
Away from Beckett, who I’d let down when he deserved better.
Why did I think I could be the man he needed? The son and business owner my dad could trust? I was just a jackass who’d skated along on smiles and charm. But smiles and charm couldn’t fix this.
I pushed through the door and rushed into an empty hallway. I made it three steps before I fell against the wall and slid to the floor. I buried my head in my hands, chest aching, eyes burning. I wanted to punch something. I wanted to punch myself.
I settled for slapping the flat of my hand onto the floor. “Fuck!”
“Hey!” Beckett crouched in front of me. I hadn’t even seen him follow me into the hall. “Take a breath, Wes.”
I inhaled deeply, sucking in air, trying to pull my shit together. I didn’t want Beck to see me like this. Like a failure. But he already knew that, didn’t he? Beck was quick. He’d figure out I’d screwed the pooch without me confessing to it.
Still, I felt the need to say it.
“I fucked up.”
“No,” Beckett said softly.
“I must have,” I said, my voice rough. I sounded angry, but my only anger was for myself. “I missed something. I didn’t listen.”
He cupped my face and kissed my forehead. “Listen to me.” He locked his eyes on mine. “Can you do that?”
I nodded once.
“If a mistake was made, we made it together.”
“You don’t make mistakes.”
“Of course I do,” he said. “We’re in this together. We’re partners, aren’t we?”
I hesitated a beat, and his eyes narrowed.
“Isn’t that what you always say?” he demanded.
“Yeah, but…”
“But nothing,” he said. “We’ll figure this shit out.”
“What about Dad?” I croaked. “He saw it all. He was embarrassed. You know this project was a test. What if I just ruined everything?”
Beckett gave me a wobbly smile, but he couldn’t hide the crease of worry between his eyebrows. “You couldn’t ruin everything, Wes,” he said gently, “becauseyouare everything.”
“I’m not.”
“To me, you are.”
The band around my chest loosened. “You mean that? Even if…”
