Chapter Thirty-Five
Keeley
Okay, so I might have just thrown myself at Beckett.
Like, literally.
It’s becoming quite the habit for me, apparently—first, when I tripped into the elevator the day we met, and now, because being on the other side of the glass when his song ended felt like way, way too far away.
I needed to be close to him. And so, the second he sang that last note, I practically catapulted out of the control room, raced down the hallway to the door to access the live room, all while Ezra’s knowing laughter chased me.
Right now, I’m still sitting on top of Becks. But as my brother walks into the live room and I shift in an attempt to slide off his lap, he grins at me cheekily, his dimple popping as his hands tighten on my waist, holding me in place like he doesn’t ever want to let go.
“Stay,” he says softly, under his breath and only for me to hear, and chills erupt over my skin.
“Okay.” Ezra stands in front of us with his hands on his hips. He’s trying to look disgruntled, I can tell, but his lips are twitching like he’s fighting a smile. “I’m just going to breeze right past that make-out session I just had the displeasure of witnessing.”
I smirk at him. “You came back too soon, didn’t give us enough time to wrap it up.”
Becks chuckles, and the vibration of the sound moves through my body.
My big brother, however, rolls his eyes at me. “As I was saying, I’m going to breeze right past all of that, because dude!” His gaze moves to Becks, eyes shining with something akin to awe. “I’ve had a lot of artists come through here, had the honor of watching some of the greats perform right where you’re sitting. And, hand on heart, I have never, ever seen a performance like that. Or seen anyone get everything perfect on the first take.”
Becks ducks his head a little, but I don’t miss the flush rising on his cheekbones. “Ah, thanks for that.”
He takes one of his hands off my waist and rubs the back of his neck, a seemingly subconscious habit he does when he’s bashful or being complimented.
I think it’s endearing that Beckett—who was completely and utterly unabashed that my brother saw us locked in an intensely passionate embrace just a minute ago—is now embarrassed that my brother was impressed by his performance.
His musical performance, that is. Get your head out of the gutter. Sheesh.
Ezra’s still staring at Becks. “Would you be interested in coming in tomorrow night after-hours to record some more? We could do a whole demo, if you’re up for it. Something you can bring back to Ireland if you were thinking about pursuing this professionally.” He grins. “Which you absolutely should be, in my humble opinion.”
“I don’t know about that,” Beckett says with a laugh. “But as for recording a demo…” He shoots me a look, then smiles. It’s a peaceful, calm smile. “I’d love to.”
In that moment, I get the feeling that he’s recalling the dinner we had at Ezra and Mae’s when I made my request for him to record that song so I could have it with me after he’s gone. And now, he’s going to make sure I have a whole demo’s worth of songs.
I squeal and wrap my arms around his neck, wriggling like an overexcited puppy.
“Can I come tomorrow?” I ask Ezra.
He wags a finger at me jokingly. “Only if you promise to stay in the control room.”
“Fi-ine,” I whine, drawing out the syllable.
But I cross my fingers behind my back.
Beckett snorts with laughter.
We pack up and head outside, then say good night to Ezra before making our way to Beckett’s truck.
“I’m so proud of you,” I tell him as we climb inside. “You were amazing. And I know nothing about music or recording studios, but let me tell you, I’ve never seen Ezra so impressed.”
“You inspired me,” he replies easily, turning the key in the ignition. “You’re pushing yourself to do something hard, stepping outside of your comfort zone, and tackling an article topic that brings up some uncomfortable feelings for you.”
“Speaking of that, I think I’ve figured out how to end the piece.” After our date we spent dancing together on the fire escape without a care in the world, it was like I knew exactly how to tie all of the remaining aspects of the story together without needing any more answers. “I was working on it all day today while you were watching boresball, and I’d love your take.”
This makes him laugh.
“Man, it was like watching paint dry,” he agrees. “Cash didn’t seem to mind that I was so bored though. He actually assured me I’d like hockey better.”
“Pity the season doesn’t start until the fall,” I say with a sad smile. It’s strange to think of him not being here by the time baseball season ends and hockey rolls around. “Same with basketball. I’d love to take you to a game—our team in Boston is called the Celtics.”
“Why on earth would a Boston-based team call themselves Celtics?” He looks baffled.
“They have a mascot named Lucky the Leprechaun and everything.”
“Between Lucky Charms and now this, I truly believe you Americans have more leprechaun-themed things than we do on the entire island of Ireland.”
I grin. “And I haven’t even told you about the college football team in Indiana who call themselves ‘The Fighting Irish.’”
“Well now I really wish I could stick around for the fall sports season to witness some of this,” he exclaims, and even though we’re joking around, I get a little dash of wishful thinking. How nice that would be.
“Me too,” I say softly. “That would have been fun.”
“It would,” he agrees, somewhat wistfully. Then he blinks and his expression clears. “So, what did you come up with for your article, then?”
“I realized that it made sense to focus on the fact that fate brought Noeleen and Douglas together for a time, and they clearly relished that time. And maybe the legends surrounding the building are true, but that fate works in a multitude of ways—its intervention might not be just for everlasting love, but for something that meets us where we need it, in that moment.”
There’s a moment of silence when I’m done talking, one that makes me realize that everything we’ve just been talking about—the upcoming fall sports schedule he won’t get to witness—feels very relevant.
“I love that,” he replies after a beat, and the look on his face makes me smile. “How you turned something that most people would’ve viewed through a sad lens into something positive. Inspirational.”
“Is it okay with you that we didn’t find out what happened? Why Noeleen left? Because even with the article being done, we can keep searching.”
Becks shakes his head. “It’s totally okay with me to leave things as they are. I like the idea of not focusing on things ending, but on the process of growth and change instead.”
“I think I’m going to submit it tonight.” I look up at him with big eyes. “Scary. But I think I’m ready. Do you want to read it?”
“Of course I want to read it! But I want to read it on the internet, with your name and picture next to it, when you get the job and they publish it.”
His belief in me getting this article published—getting the job—is everything.
“I’m really happy right now.”
“You look happy as a tiny little clam,” he agrees solemnly.
This makes me cackle.
But he’s not wrong.
I had such a jaded opinion of love going into this article after Andrew. I wanted to reject everything about the lore and legends surrounding The Serendipity because I couldn’t make sense of love, so therefore, I couldn’t make sense of leaning into the legends.
Yet, somewhere on this journey, I fell head-over-heels into a summer love I didn’t believe would— could —happen to me.
And it’s clear that the building where we live was drawing us together so we could experience this feeling together.
It’s magical. Special. Beautiful. Burning bright.
If only for a time.
And that’s how I concluded my Evoke article—that an investigation into an old town legend about a building in which I happen to currently reside has made me a believer in love and magic.
Because love can enter your life in different ways, at different times. And maybe the answer isn’t how love begins or ends, but the journey on which it takes you. How it shapes you and molds you and makes you grow. Changes you, for the better.
And after spending this summer with Beckett, I will always have that piece of magic with me, no matter what the future holds.