37. Elouise
Elouise
“Beckett, what are-” my eyes move past Beckett’s broad shoulders and lock on my brother. I don’t hide my groan of annoyance, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Hey, sis,” James’ tone is just as disgruntled as I feel, but I don’t know what he has to complain about. I’m the one who’s morning is being interrupted by my entire freaking family.
“Hey, brother,” I say with fake cheeriness, “Why are you here?”
“Why is this asshole in your house?” he nods towards Beckett.
“Asshole?” Beckett mimics the word, and I don’t have to look at him to know he’s smirking, “You used to like me just fine.”
James sneers, “That was before you were fucking my sister.”
I tense.
I mean, he’s not wrong, but the way he says it makes it sound so degrading. Like Beckett is taking advantage of me, rather than this being a mutual decision between adults.
Beckett must not like James’s words any more than I do because he takes a step towards James.
“We can be adults about this, or we can go outside and talk. ” He bites off the verb and I get the distinct impression he doesn’t actually mean talking.
“Either way, you don’t say shit like that to Elouise. ”
Tension simmers between them and James looks like he wants to take a swing at Beckett .
“Guys,” I lay my hand on Beckett’s forearm, my fingertips pressing into his bare skin. “Play nice.”
Mom calls out from the kitchen asking where we went, and I send a pointed look at James. But he’s just glaring down to where I’m touching Beckett’s arm. And when I look up at Beckett, I see he’s glaring right back at James.
I tighten my grip, “Please.”
Beckett’s shoulders lose some of their tension and he turns his head until he’s looking down at me, “Alright, Smoky.”
“Thank you,” my smile is genuine, because even if this whole situation is immensely fucked up, I like that he’s standing up for me.
I see him bending down, I know what he’s going to do, and I don’t make any effort to stop him as he presses his mouth gently to mine.
“Aww, come on!” James complains at our show of affection.
I feel Beckett’s lips curl into a smile against my own, and I hold up a middle finger towards my brother.
Beckett breaks the kiss and hooks an arm around my shoulders.
Before he can turn us around, I smile at my brother, “That’ll teach you to barge into my house.”
Laughing, Beckett guides us back into the kitchen.
My dad looks up from his current batch of pancakes and addresses Beckett, “Everything okay out there, son?”
“Son?” James almost shouts as he enters behind us, “He’s not your son, I am.”
The sound of surprise that Mom makes at James’s entrance is all the confirmation I need to know they didn’t plan this. She’s terrible at pretending.
“What are you doing here?” Mom shrieks, pulling James in for a hug.
“Hey Mom,” he hugs her back and even though I’m annoyed at all of them for just showing up, it’s nice to see everyone together. “You told me you were coming into town, figured I’d surprise you.” His eyes raise over the top of Mom’s head and narrow on me, “I think we all got a surprise today.”
Rolling my eyes, I pull out a chair and sit at the table next to Beckett .
I finished setting the table before I went to check on Beckett in the hallway, so now we’re just waiting on Dad to wrap up.
“Sit, sit,” Mom waves James towards the table as she grabs another setting for him.
James stomps the few steps to the table and stops directly across from Beckett. With his eyes locked on my guest, James noisily drags the chair away from the table.
The two of them glare at each other until my dad sets down the large stack of pancakes telling us to dig in.
With carbs and coffee being passed around the table, it’s easy to pretend this isn’t a total clusterfuck as people settle into conversation.
James keeps asking Beckett questions about his time in Chicago, but Beckett mostly ignores him or answers with his own questions. I don’t know why my brother is being such a dick. He’s always been a bit protective, but I honestly didn’t think he’d be this bothered by me being with Beckett.
Forcing the final pancakes onto the boys, Mom leans back in her chair with a huge smile on her face, “This is so nice, just like the old days.”
James snorts, “Not exactly like the old days. Back then what these two are doing would be illegal.”
Dad laughs but Mom cuts James a look that has him shutting up. Then she turns to Beckett, “We’re only planning to stay for a few days, but maybe we could do a lunch with your parents? It’s been so long since I’ve seen either one of them.”
Beckett dips his chin down, “I think they’d like that a lot.”
Mom beams and I slowly slide my hand over to rest on Beckett’s thigh. He’s really getting more than he bargained for this morning.
“Perfect! We were going to stay in the driveway here,” she glances at Dad, “but maybe we should find somewhere else to stay.”
As much as I want them to do just that, I shake my head, “No, don’t do that. You can stay here.”
They’ve done it before, and I know that – for the most part – they’ll stick to their own space.
“You sure?” Dad asks and I nod.
Beckett settles his hand on mine, threading our fingers together .
Nothing like jumping straight into the deep end.
Beckett uses his free hand to pull out his phone and I watch as he texts his mom asking about doing a get together. Based on the number of exclamation points, I think it’s safe to say that Mrs. Stoleman is just as excited about this as my mom is.
He waits for a break in conversation, “My mom said that next Sunday afternoon would work, and that they’d love to host, if you can stick around that long.”
Mom doesn’t even check in with Dad before agreeing, and that’s how I know her claim of only staying a few days was total bullshit to begin with. “Just let us know what to bring.”
Beckett tips his head, “Will do, Mrs. Hall.”
“Oh please,” she waves a hand in dismissal, “call me Mom.”
I choke on my coffee, but the sound is drowned out by James’ curse.