20. Luna
CHAPTER 20
Luna
Beck immediately lifted off me and moved to the other side of the bed.
My hands were shaking as I pressed my palms to my eyes. “Fuck.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he assured me.
I took a jagged breath.
The man was worried. For me. He even scanned the room as if looking for some invisible threat and then came up short. “Talk to me, Marks. This isn't the time for that smart mouth of yours to go quiet.”
Dropping my hands, I winked an eye open. “Dammit, I want to have sex with you.”
He looked skeptical. “Maybe you wanted to, but the way your body is reacting, I'm thinking you changed your mind. In case you don't know, I'm going to tell you it's okay to change your mind.”
What the fuck is going on with my body? “Fuck, I thought this would be easier.”
Beck propped his head in his hand as he studied me. “What's going on in that head of yours? Do you need me to get my medical kit?”
My chuckle sounded forced. I didn't embarrass easily and yet I could feel my cheeks flushing.
Beck brushed my hair back, face sober. “Did someone hurt you?”
I blinked. “Don't be so dramatic.”
The man was the opposite of amused. His jaw clenched, and I saw his fist do the same before he took a deep breath and relaxed it. “Who. Hurt. You?”
I shivered. Fuck I hadn't spoken about this since the night it happened. I somehow managed to make it to the police station to file a report and then again when I started therapy. Outside those spaces, I kept it locked up tight. Not even Faith knew about what happened.
Besides, sex sells. I know that and in my industry, I’d be an idiot not to think about it…all the time. Immediately after that horrific night I wanted to cover up, to dim my shine, until I decided to fuck that. Some asshole didn’t get to take away my bodily autonomy. That was mine and mine alone. I’d wear whatever the fuck I wanted, whatever made me feel beautiful. My own little way of taking back control of my life.
Just like not drinking had been a way of taking back control.
“Let's get you under the covers.” Beck went to help me and then must have thought better of it. The tilt of his head screamed, Is it okay if I touch you ?
I swallowed and nodded, letting him. Once I got cozy, Beck pulled back, but I grabbed his hand. “Get in with me.”
His face crinkled. “Are you sure?”
I needed his grounding presence. “Hold me.”
He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Nothing is going to happen,” he said. His voice was firm, authoritative.
I patted the spot next to me. “Come.”
Beck slid under the covers and despite my brain telling me this was a bad idea, I placed an arm across his chest and nestled my head against his neck. I inhaled his calming scent as his heartbeat thudded under my hand. My body relaxed immediately, as if tuning itself to him.
He ran his fingers through my hair. “I fucking hated seeing you flinch like that.”
“I won't apologize.” Even now, even like this, with the brick walls crumbling around us, I still felt compelled to challenge him. To poke at him.
His hand paused his ministrations. “You have nothing to fucking apologize for. But I am going to need a name, sweetheart.”
I sighed heavily, his arm possessively coiled around me. “He’s not worth it.”
Beck tightened his grip, before coming to his senses and loosening it. I could hear the man’s heart ricocheting in his chest, damn near bursting out of it.
“I hate this,” he grumbled.
“I can tell. Your heart's racing like you're being chased by a polar bear.”
A chuckle rumbled from his chest. “As opposed to a brown bear.”
I shook my head. “That would be a totally different cadence.”
“And you’re a bear expert now?”
“Yup. Bar and bear expert.”
He blew air out through his teeth. “Quite the resume you have there.”
I shifted my body, draping my leg over him.
Beck hissed. “Don't make me shove a pillow between us.”
“You would if I asked you to.”
He planted a kiss on the sensitive spot behind my ear. “I would.”
“It happened one night at Paige’s apartment.”
His grip tightened, and I’d bet money he'd done it inadvertently. It was as if he were bracing himself.
“Paige was my best friend at the time. I was pissed you hadn't called me, and she insisted we go out to take my mind off things.”
I inhaled deeply. “We went to a club and then Paige invited some guys home. She'd insisted even though I asked if we could just walk home and grab a slice of pizza along the way. The confusion started before we even left the club. I’d been upset about—” Beck turned to me, eyes colliding with mine as he listened. “I’d been upset about how things had gone down between us and between that and the long days and nights of working, I figured I just needed sleep. But then the dizziness started, and I knew something was very wrong. I was passed out on Paige’s couch when I came to. One of the guys was fondling me with one hand and his dick in the other hand. My limbs felt like lead and my head was fuzzy, but somehow I managed to shout. My voice probably was barely above a whisper but somehow Paige heard it. She stormed out of her room and kicked him out when she saw tears running down my face.”
“I’m glad she was there to stop him,” Beck said fiercely, jaw clenched.
Sometimes I was grateful for that too, but mostly I hated that she left me alone with him. How could she not have seen how fucked up I was? She’d trusted these strangers implicitly.
“Deep down, I know it wasn’t her fault. Countless hours of therapy taught me that. By knowing something in my head and feeling it in my heart were two different things. I can’t separate it out, no matter how hard I try. And trust me, I’ve tried.”
He hummed in understanding.
“It’s like all the fear and feelings from that night are tied up with her too.” I turned so that I faced Beck without craning my neck.
“Are you still friends with Paige?”
I shook my head. “I stopped talking to her. I tried to remain friends at first. But then I changed so much after that night. I stopped drinking, I stopped partying for fun. I cut off most of that friend group, opting to focus on my work and my business and making sure that what happened to me didn’t happen to others.”
Beck combed my hair with his fingers, the little gesture a soothing balm over the heavy conversation. “Do you miss it?”
The air whooshed from my lungs. Nobody has asked me that. Most of my current friends only knew me as a sober person. Everyone I hung out with in the before times were no longer part of my circle. I don't think I'd even asked myself the question. And I definitely didn’t say anything to my mom. She would have somehow blamed me for getting myself into that situation. Probably would have asked what I was wearing and how much I drank, as if that made it okay for anyone to lay their hands on someone without consent.
But the partying —did I miss it ? “I’m not sure.”
Beck waited for me to continue, his grip even tighter than before. He proceeded with caution, the little groove between his brows deeper than I'd ever seen it. The expression on my face silently asked if how we were laying was okay.
“It's hard to miss it when I'm surrounded by it.”
Beck frowned. “Does that not make the temptation greater?”
“For me, it doesn't. Once I’d made the decision not to drink, it just stuck. Like I no longer needed to even consider it because the possibility has been wiped from the table.”
“Because you needed to feel in control.”
I nodded. “Exactly.”
“And you don't trust anyone to see you out of control.”
I blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. Fuck, if I cried then I'd run the risk of another migraine and that was the last thing I needed.
“Beck?”
“Yes, Marks?”
“I'm tired,” I said through a yawn. It went beyond that. I was exhausted.
He nodded solemnly, taking the cue to leave. Beck leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead. The movement was slow and controlled. Not asking or wanting for more.
Beck’s firm grip loosened, and the sudden loss of him felt like a sharp dagger to the chest. He slipped out of the bed and placed another kiss on my head.
“Sweet dreams, gorgeous,” he whispered. Leaving me all alone.