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I closed my eyes and drifted off, wishing tonight could have ended differently. Not me with some random hookup, but me with the person I really wanted, sober and free to kiss his beautiful face. No amount of liquid courage could ever fix what we’d broken in Vegas.
CHAPTER8
WES
Beckett lay in my bed,red hair bright against the black silk pillowcase, and groaned pitifully as he slowly woke. It was nearly noon, and I’d just opened the door, peeking in to check on him as I’d done off and on all morning.
He’d never thrown up the night before. He’d probably feel better if he had. His skin was pasty, freckles standing out in sharp contrast, and his eyes were crusty.
I’d never seen anything more beautiful.
Really, Wes? Nothing? Not even when you hooked up with that hot number on that Omaha trip?
I brushed that memory away. It was insignificant beyond being a fun night. I’d dated a lot of women and slept with even more. All of them were attractive. But none of them affected me like Beckett did.
I couldn’t explain it. We’d been friends for so long, and I’d never felt this way until recently. Never been attracted to men. But like a new planting, my feelings slowly took root, and now that they had, I wasn’t sure how to rip them out—or if I even wanted to. After all, Beckett was the thing that nourished my feelings, and he was too damn important to be torn from my life.
“Is he awake yet?” Andi called from the end of the hall.
I turned. “Shhh.”
“I’m awake,” he said, voice still groggy.
I slipped into the room and closed the door behind me. I had no idea what to think about Beck’s night out. I was a little hurt that he wanted to find a hookup, but I understood too. I’d pushed the boundaries with that little jerkoff session the other night. If I’d backed away and given him privacy, not tested the waters, maybe he wouldn’t be freaking out now.
“How are you feeling?” I asked cautiously.
“Like ass.”
I took a seat on the edge of the bed and handed him a Gatorade. “This might help.”
He twisted off the lid and eased up enough to sip it. He still wore his bar clothes from the night before, a clingy button-down that was wrinkled to hell now and jeans. Given our circumstances, I hadn’t undressed him as I might have done a few months ago.
My lips quirked, and I attempted to make light of the situation. “I know you were worried about sharing a bed with me, but damn, Beck. If you wanted to sleep in your clothes, you could have just said so.”
He threw the bottle cap at my chest, and it hit me and bounced into the bedding. “Thanks, asshole.”
He took another careful sip. I squeezed his calf through the blankets. “Seriously, Beck. I need you to trust me to give you whatever you need.”
His eyes met mine. “I don’t even know what that is.”
I nodded once. “Well, when you do…”
“I’ll tell you.”
The door opened behind me and Andi poked her head in, her hair still in a messy bun. “Beck, I made some breakfast earlier. We have pancakes and sausage left. I can warm it up for you.”
Beckett turned wide eyes on me. “Who is this woman and what happened to our bratty sister?”
I busted out laughing, relieved to see the return of the Beck I knew before Vegas happened. The one who was quick with snarky sarcasm and witty jokes. Who might be more serious than me, but still had a great sense of humor and laughed with me instead of at me. The guy who always had my back.
Whatever happened between us, I didn’t want to lose that guy.
“Laugh it up,” Andi said. “See if I do anything nice for you again.”
She stuck out her tongue, just as she’d done when she was eleven years old, and withdrew from the room.
“Sorry not sorry!” I called after her.
