Chapter Eleven #2
“Oh no,” Beckett squeezed through his gritting teeth.
“No, no, no,” I echoed. “Oh, hell no.”
“This can’t be real,” he snapped and tied the towel around his waist while I methodically inspected everything but his figure. I was fuming; I didn’t need to drool, too.
“What are you doing?” I demanded when Beckett made two big steps toward me and the door.
“I’m breaking all hell loose. Why the fuck are you just standing there?” he asked.
“You’re not going down there in a towel, for fuck’s sake.
” My mind was sharp enough to remember that there was a young girl at the reception desk.
Beckett’s rashness wasn’t going to help anyone.
“I’ll take care of it.” I turned away from him and went for the door.
“Put something on, dammit.” I marched to the reception desk, trying to keep my temper down.
This was shaping up to be a horrible situation for everyone involved. Especially me.
There was nobody at the reception desk, so I dinged the bell. I would have thought it was cute to ring the bell like they did in the movies, except there was an insufferable asshole in my room and my patience was thin.
A kindly-looking woman with auburn hair pulled into a motherly bun walked out of a small room behind the reception desk. “How can I help you?”
“Yes, hi. Hello.” Shut up. Get to the point. I inhaled and calmed down. “I think there was a mixup. I have room two-oh-four, but you already put Beckett Partridge in there.”
The woman, Bridgette, according to the nametag, nodded curtly.
She opened a notebook and I couldn’t see what she was checking.
Still, her sigh was enough to make my heart drop.
“I see. Yes, I called about this on Saturday, and, ah, Mr. Murray said there were no issues. See, dear, we had a pipe leak above the room that was originally booked. Both rooms are undergoing repairs.”
“Uh-huh, okay, but do you have any other room available?” I asked.
Bridgette lifted her eyebrows like I was asking her where to park my spaceship.
“At least a room with separate beds,” I said, sounding much more desperate than I meant to. “I can’t…share my bed with Beckett. Not with Beckett, please.”
“I’m so sorry, but it’s October. All of our rooms are occupied. It’s fortunate that we could spare the one you got. It’s our suite.” She said that last part like I was supposed to appreciate it.
I opened my mouth, but I was too stunned to say anything. I nodded. “It’s a suite,” I echoed quietly. “A suite I have to share with Partridge.”
“I really am sorry about the inconvenience,” Bridgette said, but her tone was skeptical.
She sounded not too pleased with how ungrateful I was at the suite.
“There is nothing we can do about this.” When I didn’t leave — and I was too shocked to move just now — she cocked her head.
“You’re here with your team. You could ask a teammate to swap, but we don’t have any other rooms.”
I nodded, realizing it was my time to get the fuck away before she called the cops on me.
I looked deranged, no doubt. I thanked her as politely as possible, then returned to my room to find Beckett.
He was still topless, but he swapped his towel for a pair of sweatpants.
He was tinkering with the radiator. “It’s boiling in here,” he complained when I walked in.
“It shouldn’t bother you,” I said. “You need to go and find someone to swap rooms with you.”
Beckett straightened. I hated him for being shirtless right now. “What are you talking about? This is my room.”
“Actually, it’s our room.” I told him about the leaking pipe and the solution Bridgette offered.
Beckett snorted when I finished. “I already unpacked. If anyone is looking for another room, it’s you.”
I would have shrugged and gone to those lengths if it was anyone else. But Beckett had the unique talent of waking my most spiteful self. “I’m not begging for a bed so you’d be more comfortable.”
“Oh, it’s my comfort we’re talking about, huh?” He shook his head like he couldn’t believe me.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded. It was incredible how long my single remaining inch of patience could last.
“Nothing,” Beckett said, walking toward me. “Nothing at all. I’m not going anywhere. You, however, do whatever the hell you want. But it’s not wise to go crying to one of our guys. We’re supposed to be best friends, remember? But sure, run away from having to share the room.”
“That sounds a lot like something you would do,” I said, leaning against the closed door. I looked at the bed. It was spacious enough if the other person was anyone but Beckett.
“What now?” he asked as he paused three feet from me.
And that was it. One irked tone too many. The rubber band snapped. “You fucking ran away, asshole. What the hell was that all about?”
He was silent, scowling as usual.
“And you can’t even tell me why,” I said with audible disappointment. “You can’t just do that to a person. You can’t just kiss and run. Did your parents teach you nothing?”
“Don’t talk about my parents,” he growled.
“Why should I listen to you? When did you deserve that?” I asked just as bitterly.
“I’m not asking. I’m warning you, Jones.” He moved his shoulder when he took the next step.
“Or what? You’ll kiss me again? Tough luck, buddy. I survived the first round.” I was no longer leaning against the door, but toward him.
“What the fuck is your problem, dude?” His sudden snarl made my skin prickle. He was properly angry now. But so was I.
“It wasn’t fair,” I snapped, louder than I’d meant.
Beckett winced and licked his lips, pulling back from me a couple of inches.
“Why did you do it if you didn’t want it, Beckett?” I demanded. “Why kiss me if you weren’t sure? What was that all about?”
His lips twisted and his eyebrows contorted into a frown. He was silent a moment longer, unblinking, seething, and his chest rising and falling. I could almost see his heart beating under his taut, smooth skin. I sure saw the pulse on his neck.
I shrugged. “You are a coward, Beckett.”
I half expected him to lurch at me for calling him that. Instead, he pulled a full step away. “Whatever.”
“Right. Whatever.” I relaxed and reached for my phone.
Ignoring Beckett like a coat rack, I moved to the armchair, sat down, and opened my dating app.
I wasn’t advertising it if that was what Beckett thought.
I only wanted to be elsewhere. Except, as he sulked where he stood, I found that all my interest in hooking up had drained.
Was his mood such a turnoff that I couldn’t even be into someone else? Or was it something I didn’t dare fully face?
Beckett tapped his foot impatiently. “What are you doing? You’re not bringing anyone here.”
“I’m not bringing anyone here, asshole,” I said. “I’m going there.”
He scoffed so loudly that I wanted to jump up and strangle him. “We have a game tomorrow.”
“It relaxes me,” I replied in a tone that flatly said I was bored of this conversation. Although I didn’t narrow my aim on any of the guys I’d shortlisted before, I was just ready to leave the room. I lifted my ass from the armchair and brushed past Beckett. “Don’t wait up.”
“You can’t.” His tone was so dominant that it stopped me dead in my tracks.
I laughed. “Can’t?” I spun to look at his face. Who the hell did he think he was?
“That’s what I said.” These words were softer than the command he had issued.
But I was still done with his bullshit. I closed in on him, rising to my toes so that I would tower an inch above this brat.
“You’re not getting it, are you? I’m not listening to you.
You don’t hold any power over me, Beckett.
And do you know why? Because you drove me to this point.
Your relentless teasing and your snide little comments…
” I shook my head. “You made me snap, Beckett, and I’m not taking orders from God Almighty anymore, let alone Captain Tantrum. I’m going now because I can.”
White rage spilled over his face as he bared his pearly teeth. His ears were turning red, his chest was heaving faster, and his fists closed like he would stop me from leaving by any means necessary.
It was all clear then. He was a control freak. He didn’t care either way, but only wanted to control me. So long as he was in charge of me, everything was fine. I tightened my fists as anger at this realization erupted inside of me. “Try to stop me, Beckett. Make my day.”
The explosion came from a blind spot. Had I had the time to really consider all outcomes, I would have expected Beckett to tackle me or to press his hand against the door.
I would have expected him to say something horrible and ruin my evening that way.
I even would have expected an eye roll and a surrender.
But after so many days of acting like I was just a stranger in passing, I didn’t expect him to press his chest against mine.
I didn’t see his swiftness coming. It made me jump and hit the door with my back, leaving me trapped between the only exit and this psycho fuckboy with some horribly suppressed desires.
Beckett’s mouth smashed against mine with such carelessness that I feared the impact would have split my lip. I wasn’t sure if the heat that swept me was Beckett’s or my own. It filled my head and made me dizzy.
I heard a distinct whimper between us, but it took me a heartbeat to realize it was my own.
Beckett’s lips parted, his kiss growing softer as he held me roughly against the door. His bare skin made my fingertips tingle when I touched the sides of his torso.
He thrust one leg between mine, his thigh gently pressing against my crotch.
He wasn’t kidding. This…was more than just a confused touch of lips on lips.
His right hand reached along my neck to hold my jaw as he sucked the soul out of my mouth.
His left hand touched my right hip and slipped under my shirt.
He felt every curve along the lower side of my torso, our limbs tangling, and sighs merging from one mouth to the other.