Chapter 32 Sloane
SLOANE
It’s been four days since the incident in town. I sit in Beckett’s Denver office, curled up on the couch, watching Ice Age since I’m a literal child, and the only way I am able to regulate my emotions properly is by watching cartoons.
Mocha sits on the floor next to me. Beck sits at his desk just doing whatever it is the detectives do when they aren’t out in the field.
He won’t tell me what he’s working on. He’s encouraged me to stay close to him, which doesn’t make my already paranoid brain feel any better.
He keeps staring at me, and I pretend that I don’t notice. Pretending I’m too engrossed in my show to notice anything else going on around me. It’s quite the opposite, really.
Every little noise makes me flinch; I’m jumpy as hell. Beckett dropped a stapler the other day. The noise made me jump off the couch and run across the room. I apologized about ten times. We went home fourteen minutes later because Beckett felt bad for scaring me.
I’m twenty-one years old, and I shouldn’t be reacting this way. It’s not like anything bad actually happened to me; he’s just a stupid guy who got way too close. Beckett says that my fears are valid, that it’s ok to be scared after something like that.
He doesn’t seem to understand that I now feel like a huge inconvenience. I can’t even stay home by myself. I have to follow him around like a jumpy cat.
He doesn’t seem bothered. He wakes up a few minutes earlier to pack me a lunch and to make me breakfast so that I can sleep in. I’m incredibly grateful, but I feel horrible.
Luckily, nothing on social media has changed, and no one suspects anything since all my regular content is pre-scheduled.
I haven’t even looked at the apps. It was Beckett’s idea to put my phone away after I let him look through it extensively. I didn’t ask questions; I just let him do his thing.
While watching my show, I keep a cherry sucker in my mouth. The familiar flavor keeps me calm.
“Are you ready for lunch?” he asks, looking up after a few seconds. His blue light glasses are perched on his nose. He looks good in them, and it’s been my saving grace the last few days.
“We can if you’d like,” I say, sitting up and pocketing my phone.
Mocha’s eyes follow me as I stand up. I stretch before going over to Beckett, fighting the urge to just crawl into his lap, wrap my arms around his neck, and never let go.
I stand behind him, and I rest my chin on top of his head, looking over the different tabs he has pulled up, all of them different reports and filled with words that I’m too lazy to read.
He takes his time logging out of his computer before turning and looking up at me. He spreads his legs, and I step in between them as his arms wrap around me, pressing his forehead to my stomach.
He pulls away, and I take off his glasses even though he looks really fucking good in them.
“I-I want to kiss you,” I whisper, my fingers gently brushing through his hair.
“Ok.”
He looks up at me, and I press my lips to his. He just pulls me into his lap, so I’m straddling him.
He’s been very patient with intimacy, or lack thereof, since the incident. I feel bad, but the most I can do right now is kisses and cuddles; anything more than that is too much.
He holds me and tells me that it’s all ok. Even though it’s anything but ok. I feel bad, but since he’s a good person, he just deals with my incoherent mumbling and kisses my forehead.
I pull away first, his hands softly on my hips as he holds me close. His dark eyes look into mine like he’s trying to read my brain, and I’m sure he can.
“Do you wanna eat the sandwiches I packed or something else?” he whispers, pressing his forehead to mine. I close my eyes so that I can just take in his closeness, barely even processing his question as I just take in his scent: pine, sandalwood, and something that is a little citrusy.
His hands push my oversized hoodie up and land on my waist, his thumbs gently brushing against my hip bones.
“Yeah, sandwiches are fine,” I say, as the words process, my arms wrapping around his neck. I gently play with the hair at the base of his head; it’s just barely long enough for me to run my fingers through.
“You sure?”
I nod in response, keeping my body tightly pressed against his. I need his closeness right now. I need to be able to feel all of him, to keep him close, to know I’m safe.
Safe isn’t ever something I’ve ever felt, not truly.
Not until him. Not until he let me in and gave me a place to call my own.
He’s a man of few words, but those words are all the difference.
He’s everything I’ve always wanted, while also being something I never knew I could have.
Girls like me don’t usually get to keep the guys like him.
“Hey, what’s going on in your head?” he whispers, one of his thumbs coming up and wiping away the tears that I didn’t even realize had started to fall.
“You are incredible. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I thank whatever God is out there that I get to hold you, even if it’s just for a little while,” I whisper, burying my face into his neck and hugging him tight.
“You were you, that’s all I ever needed,” he whispers, his lips brushing the top of my head.
I don’t know what’s making me emotional, but everything is just too much. All I can do is sit in his lap, hold onto him, and hope that this never ends.
After several minutes, I pull away. When I do, he’s watching me, his hands cup my face, wordlessly wiping the remaining tears away.
“Food?” he asks, and I nod, getting off his lap. I head back over to the couch, and he grabs our lunches from the mini fridge in the corner before joining me. He hands me my lunch box, I lean into his side, and he lets me rest there without asking any questions.
Today for lunch, he packed turkey and cheese sandwiches with tomatoes and lettuce. A side of hummus and pretzels. To drink, he got me a premade iced coffee, and for himself, a water.
I’m not normally a sourdough bread person, but the one that these sandwiches are made out of isn’t actually too bad.
“You wanna stay, or are you ready to go?” he asks, after we throw away the rest of our trash. I shake my head. I made him leave early yesterday; the last thing I want is for him to have to leave early again because of me.
“No, it’s ok, I’ll just watch another show, and maybe take a nap, since I’m a little tired.” I curl up into a small ball on my cushion.
“Ok, sounds good. We can go home if you want to, though,” he offers, taking the blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over me. I shake my head as I grab my phone and put on a show, before propping it against the books he has on the coffee table.
“No, I’m ok. I promise, we can stay,” I say. He nods, giving my thigh a gentle squeeze before he goes back over to his desk. He continues to work on whatever project he was working on before we ate. It’s not long before I’m falling asleep, staying like that until he wakes me up and we head home.
When we get home, he wraps his arms around me, and he kisses the side of my neck, just barely teasing the skin.
“How would you feel about getting into the Jacuzzi with me?” he whispers against the skin of my neck.
“You want to?” I ask, my head falling back, giving him more space to work.
“I do,” He says, spinning me in his arms, making me look up at him. “Unless you don’t want to.” He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek with the hand that tucked the hair away.
“No, we can, I do want to. That actually sounds really nice,” I say after thinking about it for a few seconds.
“I’ll meet you outside in a few minutes, ok?” I nod, turning and heading up the stairs.
Mocha follows me, having not gotten farther than a few feet from me since it happened.
“Hey, buddy,” I coo, picking him up once we’re in my ‘room.’ He nuzzles my neck with his face and lets out a little whine.
“I know, baby, don’t be scared, just relax. Mommy is right here, I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper, kissing the top of his head.
I set him down and open the top drawer of my dresser, pulling out the same bikini that I took when we went camping.
I slowly peel off my comfort clothes and change into the swimsuit.
When I go downstairs, Beckett is nowhere to be seen, making me think that he’s already outside.
“Hey, baby,” he says, once I step down onto the patio.
“Hey,” I say, pulling my hair up into a bun on top of my head. I set my towel down on one of the chairs at the table as well as my phone, and kick off my sandals.
“What’s all this?” I ask as I see all the snacks and drinks he’s brought out.
“I figured that we could have an outside movie night,” he says before helping me into the hot tub.
He doesn’t really say much as he quickly sets everything up, going into the house a few more times, and on the last time, he comes out with bags of takeout.
I sit in the hot tub watching him, unsure of what his plan is, but at least I’m comfortable. Mocha watches him, too, lying on the ground, his eyes tracking every movement.
“Alright,” he says, pressing play on the movie and finally settling into the jacuzzi next to me, pulling me into his side. I let him, leaning my head against his shoulder.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” I whisper, kissing his shoulder softly.
“I wanted to,” he says, looking over at me and kissing my cheek. “Now eat.”
“Thanks.” I pick up a fork and very slowly start to eat, as Despicable Me 2 plays on the screen.
After we finish eating, I push my tray away and climb into his lap, which he allows, wrapping his arms around me as I melt into his strong body.
I lean my head back against his shoulder, and he presses a couple of soft kisses onto my neck.
I gasp softly, unable to stop myself when he sucks on the sensitive skin below my ear.
“Beck,” I whisper as his hands start to gently explore my body.
“You taste so good, pretty baby,” he whispers against my skin, causing goosebumps to rise.