Chapter 20 Beck
BECK
The bass from downstairs thumps through the walls of my room, rattling the empty Gatorade bottle on my desk. I told myself I wasn’t going to the party—not tonight, not when my body still feels like it’s fighting me every step.
But staying upstairs doesn’t exactly keep me from hearing every laugh, every shouted lyric, and every door slamming too hard.
I’m sitting on the edge of my bed when the knock comes.
Before I can answer, Logan pushes in, his voice pitched lower than usual. “I know you’re not feeling great, but you might want to come downstairs.”
I frown. “Not really in the mood for a crowd.”
“Yeah, well,” Logan says, leaning against the doorframe. “Sophie doesn’t look like she’s in the mood for Zach Pierce either. But he’s down there right now, running his mouth.”
That gets me on my feet before I’ve even thought it through. My legs are moving down the stairs, right into the heat and the haze of the party, before my brain catches up.
Logan wasn’t exaggerating.
When I hit the bottom step, Zach’s standing way too close, words slurred with that fake confidence he wears like cologne. Sophie’s arms are crossed, chin tipped up, but I can see it—her jaw is tight and her shoulders are stiff.
“I don’t know why you keep pretending,” Zach says, his voice just loud enough to draw stares. “We both know this thing with him is a joke. You and me—we made sense. We fit.”
Sophie’s glare could cut glass. “We didn’t fit, Zach. You treated me like an accessory, not a person.”
He scoffs, leaning in closer. “And what, you think Harrison here is better? Guy’s not even gonna last a season before he washes out.”
My teeth clench, but I don’t move, as Sophie straightens her spine and fires back first.
“Maybe he’s better because he listens. Because he doesn’t need to tear me down to feel important.”
That’s when Zach finally notices me. His smirk falters, then twists into something nastier. “Oh, speak of the devil. You hear that, Harrison? She thinks you’re her knight in shining armor.”
My chest heats, but I stay still, eyes locked on Sophie’s. Wordless, I let her choose.
And she does. She turns, stepping straight into me, her arms circling my middle. My hand finds her back without thinking, steadying her against me.
Zach’s sneer deepens, but I finally step closer, close enough that Sophie is tucked completely against me. The contact sends a swoop through my gut, but I keep my tone calm.
“Here’s how this works, Pierce.” My voice cuts low, even over the music. “You don’t talk to her like that. You don’t look at her like that. You don’t even come near her again.”
He laughs, but it’s hollow. “What are you gonna do, Harrison?”
My jaw ticks, but I don’t rise to it. Instead, I shift just enough to press Sophie closer into me, my hand firm against her side. “What I’m gonna do is make sure you understand one thing. She’s not yours to bother anymore. And if you can’t respect that, then you’ll answer to me.”
Zach’s eyes narrow. For a beat, it looks like he’ll push it. But then his gaze flicks between Sophie pressed tight against me and the way I’m standing behind her, protective. Possessive.
He mutters something under his breath and shoves past, disappearing into the crowd.
The air between us feels electric, my pulse hammering. I lower my head, voice just for her. “Let’s go upstairs.”
Her head tilts up toward me, eyes wide, searching. For half a second, the noise of the party swells around us—music, laughter, the scrape of a chair—none of it touching the quiet thread that hums between us.
Then she nods. Just once.
That’s all I need.
I slide my hand down, finding hers. Our fingers lace easily, like they’ve been waiting to, and I don’t let go.
Not when I lead her through the crowded living room.
Not when people’s heads turn to follow us.
Especially not when Logan catches my eye from across the way, a slow grin tugging at his mouth as he clocks what’s happening.
The stairs creak under our steps, but she stays close, her hand so small in mine, like we’re in this together.
By the time we reach the top landing, my pulse is still hammering and my chest is tight—but it’s not from anger over the disrespect Zach throws at Sophie.
It’s from the way she trusts me to lead her out of the mess, no questions asked.
We sidestep a couple of guys roughhousing near the landing. I push open the last door on the right and let her step in first.
Sophie glances around—bed neatly made, books stacked on the desk, cleats tucked under the chair. Nothing fancy, but it’s mine.
She turns back, brows lifting. “Wait…this is your room? You live here?”
Her surprise makes me shift my weight, suddenly self-conscious in a way I’m not used to. I rub the back of my neck. “Yeah. About that…”
Her head tilts, waiting.
“I didn’t exactly lie,” I say slowly. “Well, kind of. When I told you I’d walk you back to your dorm that first night…it wasn’t really on the way. And the second time at the party…” I exhale through my nose. “I just didn’t want you walking alone.”
Her expression softens, something flickering in her eyes that makes my stomach clench.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she says quietly.
“I know.” I shrug, trying to keep it casual, even though my pulse won’t settle. “But I wanted to.”
For a second, neither of us moves. The noise from the party downstairs feels miles away, and all I can think about is how close she’s standing in my room, looking at me like she sees more than I usually let people see.
She lingers for a second, like she’s not sure if we’re really leaving.
“C’mon. I’ll take you home.” I grab my keys off the desk, sliding them into my pocket, then nod toward the door. “I’d say I’d walk you, but I’m still not feeling great and honestly, I don’t want to walk that much more today.”
We head back down the stairs, the music thumping louder with every step. Logan’s leaning against the kitchen counter when we pass through, a red Solo cup in hand. His brows shoot up when he sees us together.
“Heading out already?” he asks, a little too casually.
“Yeah,” I say, steering Sophie toward the door. “She’s got an early morning.”
Logan smirks into his cup, eyes bouncing between us. “Right. Early morning.”
I shoot him a look that makes him hold his hands up in mock surrender, still grinning. Sophie ducks her head, but I don’t miss the way her lips twitch like she’s fighting a smile.
Outside, the night air is cool, a relief after the heat of the party. We walk side by side to my truck, the noise of the house fading behind us. I open the passenger door for her, waiting until she climbs in before shutting it and circling around to the driver’s side.
The ride is silent but comfortable. The kind of quiet that doesn’t demand to be filled.
When I pull into the lot, I kill the engine and climb out, dropping the tailgate. She hesitates before following, perching beside me in the cool night air.
“Sit with me for a minute,” I say, nodding to the empty space beside me.
She does, tucking her legs up, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands. For a while, we just sit there.
Finally, I clear my throat. “About earlier…Zach’s not gonna stop unless he thinks he can’t get to you. And you don’t need that kind of stress.”
Her lips press together, eyes flicking toward me. “So what, we just keep pretending? My parents, Zach, whoever else decides to stick their nose in either of our business?”
I lean back on my hands, staring out across the parking lot. “Could work both ways.”
She blinks. “Both ways?”
“Yeah.” I glance at her, a small shrug rolling off my shoulder. “Keeps him away from you. And…keeps some of the girls away from me.” Not that I need it. But if it makes this feel more like a fair trade to her, then fine.
She studies me, searching for the catch. “You’d actually be okay with that?”
I let out a slow breath. “Long as we’ve got rules. Hand holding’s fine. Hugging if it helps sell it. No kissing, no crossing lines. Maybe a kiss on the cheek. Just enough to shut him up. I honestly don’t plan on hooking up again until I’m pretty damn sure that person is my future wife.”
She nods slowly, considering. “So, we’re really going to do this?”
I hop down from the tailgate, then turn back to face her. For once, I let myself smile—the kind I know lands because her eyes soften instantly.
“So, whatcha say, pretty girl?” I ask, tipping my head just slightly. “Wanna play fake with me?”
She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she tilts her head, studying me like she’s trying to figure out if I’m serious. Then her lips curve into a soft smile.
“Okay,” she says, her voice quieter than before. “We’ll play fake.”
I nod once. “Good.”
But before I can move on, she leans forward a little, eyes catching mine in the dim light. “I should warn you, though.”
My brow furrows. “Warn me?”
Her smile turns teasing, though there’s something softer underneath it. “I make a pretty great fake girlfriend, so don’t go falling for me, Harrison.” She wiggles her brows, playful enough to cover the way her cheeks flush.
For some reason, it makes my chest feel lighter. I chuckle, shaking my head. “Noted.”
She laughs, and I offer her my hand as she slides off the tailgate. She takes it without hesitation, light and warm against mine.
For a second, I don’t let go. Her fingers fit there too easily, too natural, and it takes an effort to clear my throat and ease my hand back.
“C’mon,” I say, shifting my keys in my palm. “I’ll walk you up.”
She falls into step beside me, her shoulder brushing mine once before she puts a little more space between us. Neither of us speaks, the quiet stretch between us different than before—lighter, but charged all the same.
By the time her dorm comes into view, I’m not sure if it’s relief or something else I feel when she slows at the front.
We stop at the bottom of the steps, the light above the entryway casting a soft glow across her face. She shifts her bag higher on her shoulder, looking at me like she wants to say something but isn’t sure if she should.
“Thanks for the ride,” she says finally, her voice light but sincere.
I nod. “Anytime.”
For a beat, we just stand there. Then I shove my hands into my pockets and clear my throat. “Goodnight, Sophie.”
Her lips curve, the corners tugging into something that almost feels shy. “Goodnight, Beck. See you Monday.”
I give her a small grin, tipping my chin before turning back toward the lot.
What I told Logan still rings true.
A lot of girls are pretty.
But Sophie Prescott isn’t a lot of girls. She’s more. I know she was teasing earlier, but if I’m not careful, I could see myself falling for a girl like her.