CADEN #3
Beckett grinned. “And thus started the two-year war. I must have seemed like such an asshole, lashing out for no obvious reason. And you, Caden, took that seriously. I can’t tell you how much you freaking haunted me all the time.
If I saw you, I expected you to attack me.
” He shrugged. “So I always cut to the chase. I figured if we have to fight, I might as well catch you off guard.”
I held my breath for some time. When I exhaled, it was like stepping into the pleasant sea.
It was like releasing myself into something bigger and greater than I could imagine.
But I wasn’t so naive as to go into it without reservations.
“I did what I always did. I liked you and then I hated you because liking you hurt.”
It was enough to provoke Beckett’s fiercest kisses.
We made out for a long time, pushing one another to the very limit of what we could take before we desperately took our clothes off.
The sense of dread at the upcoming game against the Vikings was a little easier to ignore when we were busy pleasuring one another, but it was never truly gone.
Long, long after we had ridden the climax of our passion, we showered and dressed. Beckett’s clothes were those he wore for appearances around Jordan, mine were just a pair of pajama bottoms.
As he moved toward the door, he paused for another blazing kiss. I wondered how he did it. How was he so capable of obliterating all my concerns with little more than his wet lips and warm tongue?
“Oh,” he said, still holding me against his body but pulling his head back to look into my eyes. “Uncle Nate’s coming to watch us play against the Vikings. He called this morning.”
My heart leaped with boyish excitement. “Seriously?”
Beckett seemed torn after an instant. “Seriously. I haven’t seen him in months.” That last part was idle conversation. He was deliberately postponing something.
I couldn’t help it. I asked the question. “Do I get to meet the legend?”
Beckett scratched the back of his head. “I suppose everyone will get to meet him at the party after. I just hope it’s a victory celebration. But…” His eyes met mine and I read the apology in them. I also found how firmly his mind was made up.
It made my guts turn to steel and my heart clench, but I played along. I enjoyed Beckett too much to do otherwise. “I’ll be discreet,” I said.
Beckett nodded, kissed me on the lips, and left my room while murmuring a thanks. Although he had tried to make this kiss more than a peck, I had failed to reciprocate.
I’ll never be that important to you, I realized when nothing but the spicy scent of his cologne remained. I’ll never be good enough that you’re not ashamed of it.
And while I knew in my mind that I couldn’t judge him for it, my heart was tearing.
It kept me up all night and made me want to stay in my bed when dawn found me tossing and turning.
I didn’t feel hunger or thirst. I didn’t feel the drive to go on.
It was hardly anything dramatic; a slow and steady descent into hopelessness was all it was.
I did get out of my bed. I did go down and have breakfast with the other guys who were sauntering around in their underwear, rubbing their eyes, and murmuring greetings.
I spotted Beckett, fresh as a daisy, walking into the kitchen to make himself a bowl of cereal.
How he could keep up with the lack of sleep and the appearance of freshness was beyond me.
Maybe he had actually gotten a few hours of sleep.
He wasn’t haunted by the near or distant future the way I was.
As I watched him move around with other guys, searching for space in the kitchen and some fresh coffee before it was gone, I longed to be over there with him. I longed to get that mug full for him and give him a bite of my sandwich. I wanted him to be mine more with each heartbeat.
I could let go of so many things, I realized it in that instant.
I could surrender the captaincy. I could follow him and assist him. I could be the platform on which he stood when others celebrated him. He had grown so much in the months of his captaincy that I began to see Coach Murray’s thinking.
But I couldn’t hide how his proximity quickened my pulse. I couldn’t wipe the last trace of a smile from the corners of my lips when I caught his glance. I couldn’t keep the blush away when he passed by me in the locker room, smelling of body wash and cologne.
I couldn’t pretend I didn’t feel the things I felt when all those around me showed theirs so freely.
Sawyer, who wasn’t even here this morning, so openly loved Noah that I didn’t think anyone would ever dare to object.
He was so dedicated and loyal to their relationship that I was sure he would rip any critic apart.
Why couldn’t I act the same when every instinct in my body told me to?
It haunted me for the rest of the day. It bugged me and jerked me this way and that even when I paced the room, waiting for Beckett.
I was nervous beyond my memory. Our game against the Vikings was so close that I needed to direct my attention to it.
We had done our drills twice as hard today, every last one of us honing in on our greatest strengths, aligning with the rest of the team.
We all needed a good night’s sleep and few distractions, but I was desperate to see him.
I needed him tonight to soothe my anxiety over the game.
But even more so, I needed him to hush the worries that he could never silence.
And when he finally knocked, I wished he hadn’t. I knew he couldn’t do the thing I needed of him. And I knew tonight was the worst time to speak up, even if keeping it to myself felt like a little death.
Beckett walked in without waiting for my voice.
He shut the door sneakily as always, leaning against it, and eying me.
He wore his white shirt, dotted with a small blue pattern, tucked in his fitted navy blue pants.
The light brown leather belt matched his shoes and I realized then that I had never been with someone so well put together.
Guys I had been with were mostly either smart casual or, more often than not, playing the slob aesthetic with baggy clothes, sweatpants, and sneakers.
Beckett had gone from one of those to nearly wearing suits to our bedroom dates.
It just made my desperation worse. He was making such a visible effort while the only thing I truly wanted was the one thing he couldn’t give me.
His gaze scanned me and found my eyes. He watched me silently, his expression going from playful to nothing and, finally, to concerned when I didn’t say anything. I had one hand on the back of my desk chair, the other hanging uselessly by my side.
“Something happened,” he said.
I shook my head. My gaze slid along his attire. My body screamed to be nearer to him, but my heart trembled.
“Are you worried about tomorrow?” he asked, but I could hear in his voice that he knew the Vikings weren’t my biggest concern.
“Because if you are, I promise we’ll kick their asses.
They will weep to their mothers when we’re done with them.
” The playfulness he had never displayed around me until Milwaukee touched his voice, but it was a half-effort.
I licked my lips, buying time and searching for the words that wouldn’t come to me.
I didn’t know the right way to proceed. I had been foolish to think I could ignore the real world for so long.
The worry thundered through me. The sense of loss was already apparent, even if what I was losing was standing right before me, willing, yet afraid.
“If something happened, I want you to know that you can tell me,” Beckett said.
My heart cracked. I felt it as my heartbeat sped and slowed erratically, learning to work now that it was in the tatters of my own design. “I want to,” I said.
Beckett was still leaning against my door, but he was stiffer than he had been a moment ago. “Go on, then.”
I bit my lower lip so hard that my vision blurred for a moment. I blinked to clear it and inhaled. “I want to, but…”
His lips pressed tightly together. He swallowed.
“Is that even who we are?” I asked and immediately realized my mistake.
Beckett gave me a handsome half-smile, lifting one side of his lips in that sexy way of his. “We could be,” he tempted me.
I knew that his offers were kind. I knew he meant well.
But he dangled the possibility of a relationship like bait before a very hungry and increasingly more desperate fish.
He didn’t mean to hurt me when the hook sank into my flesh and when he reeled me in.
He only wanted us both to have a good time, but our definitions of a good time were different.
Assent rose through me. I wanted to nod and blend with him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and just go on. But even so, I knew it would keep me awake and hurting. It would be just another Peter Pan or Alexander from sixth grade. It would end the same way.
I did nod, but I quickly corrected that into a headshake. “I’m about to ask you something, Beckett. And you’re gonna say ‘no.’”
He was brave in how he lifted his chin and forced the frown away from his eyebrows.
“Fuck…” I shut my eyes so I wouldn’t have to look at the way he’d styled his hair with clay, making it deliberately messy. “I really like you, Beckett.”
He nodded eagerly like this was a good thread to follow. “I like you too. I like you. A lot.”