Chapter 46 Adela
I kissed him again.
I honestly couldn’t stop.
Now the drive home feels different.
I keep touching my lips at red lights. The third time I catch myself doing it, I put both hands on the wheel and look at the road. But it doesn’t matter because my mind keeps replaying what happened at Gas Works Park.
He read to me.
That's the part I keep returning to. Not the bookstore, not the park, not really the kissing — though the kissing is very much present in my nervous system and showing no signs of leaving.
But he sat on a blanket and read philosophy to me while I lay on my back looking at clouds.
It was the most at ease I have felt…in a long time.
It’s crazy because I know almost nothing about him on the surface. And I keep telling myself that doesn’t matter. I don’t need to know every small detail about him. The things I do know like I know he’s thoughtful and deep and mysterious means much more than knowing his favorite color.
But honestly, I want to know everything about him.
The thought sits in my chest warm and terrifying.
My phone lights up on the passenger seat.
I glance at it.
Three missed calls from Cody.
The warmth drains.
I grab the phone too fast and nearly drop it. Shit. Fuck. I pick it up again more carefully because I am in traffic on a wet Sunday afternoon, and dropping my phone while swerving is how this could end badly.
Three missed calls.
No voicemail.
I dial him back immediately. It rings. Rings. Rings.
Voicemail.
I hang up. Try again. Voicemail.
I put the phone face down on the seat and think about what three missed calls from Cody mean.
Is he okay?
I text, Sorry, just saw these. Calling you back now. You okay?
He doesn't respond.
I watch the phone at every red light the rest of the way home.
Nothing.
My dorm room is dim when I push the door open.
I'm looking at my phone, thumb hovering over Cody's name, debating a fourth call. I step inside, and my heart stops completely.
There's a figure at the window.
A man. Large. Standing with his back to me, looking out at the parking lot below.
The sound I make is not a word.
He turns around.
Beckett.
Thank God.
I grab the doorframe.
My heart is on fire, alongside those butterflies in my gut. I close the door behind me and lean against it and breathe. "You shouldn't be here."
"You're jumpy." He crosses the room. "Are you alright?"
I’m so thrown off. "What are you doing here?" I ask.
He reaches me before I've finished asking. His hands find my face, and then he's kissing me. I'm too startled and too relieved to stop him, so I kiss him back for a moment.
Then I pull back. "Beck."
"I missed you." His thumb moves across my cheek.
He looks at me like I'm something he needs, and I can’t help myself. Ever since he stopped staying the night, I hate to admit that I’ve missed him too.
I chew my lip, reaching up to his face. “Is everything okay?”
He presses his hard body against. “It’s better now.”
Before he kisses me again, I whisper, "I missed you, too."
And I mean it.
He kisses me again, letting my coat fall to the ground.
Beckett is gentle in a way that undoes me.
I’m on my tiptoes, reaching for his lips. He’s tall, but he’s not Theo tall. I inhale, opening my eyes. Beckett’s eyes were already open. He smiles at me as his tongue plays with mine.
Then the rest of my clothes come off, and I remove his. This between Beckett and me is easy. As his hands map my body, turning me around and brushing my hair over my shoulder, he squeezes my ass and tells me to bend over on my bed.
I listen, adrenaline rushing through me.
He enters from the back, and my body arches into his. When he leans down and breathes into my ear with each thrust, I think about Theo covering my eyes in the bookstore and telling me to pick a book. I moan louder.
“Shh,” he says, but he doesn’t stop his pace. “You feel so fucking good, Adela. Fuck.”
I lean down to my elbows, pushing my ass out faster. I bounce against him with each thrust, and I cry out every time.
Before I know it, I’m lying in his arms and laughing at something he said. His fingers trace my spine, and he asks if I’m doing okay.
I rest my head on his shoulder. "So much better now that you're here."
He rubs my back. "Sorry I didn't come sooner."
I rest my chin on his chest and look at him. "I think things are going back to how they were before."
"What do you mean?"
I search his eyes, not knowing if I can tell him the full truth. "Ever since I watched those videos, I don't really care what happened to Cody anymore. My questions vanished." I pause. "And then he woke up, and I'm ready to break up with him. I want to move on."
Beckett goes still.
"You're planning to do that?"
I nod. "I think it's time. We were together for two years. I know he filmed those while we were together."
Beckett looks at the ceiling. "Do you still love him?"
I take that into consideration. Last night was comforting in its own way. "I think I always will." I pause. "But isn't that what everyone says?"
He shakes his head.
I look up at him. "No? You don't have a first love, Beck?"
Something moves across his face. He smiles and doesn't answer directly, which is an answer.
"Tell me about her."
He shakes his head. "You don't want to know what happened."
"I do," I say quietly.
He traces my spine with one finger. "I met her during a tough time. I didn't think she'd be interested in me at all. But the first time I saw her—" He stops. Something in his face when he says it. Something unguarded. "I just knew."
"Did she feel the same?"
"I think so. Maybe not the first time we met, but later." He kisses my forehead. "Definitely later."
"What happened?"
"She needed space." He stops.
"Was this in high school?" I ask.
He laughs, pulling me closer. "Let's talk about you."
"Me?"
He nods. "Do I get more of you after you break it off?"
I think about that for a second.
He rolls his eyes. "Seriously? You have to think about it?" He looks at me. "Is there someone else?"
My stomach does something sharp and specific.
I don't answer.
He reads my face. Something moves through his but he lets it settle.
"Let me get through the breakup first," I tease.
He kisses my cheek and leaves his mouth there for a moment. "Okay."
I smile against his shoulder. "You know…you're not what I thought you'd be."
"No?"
"You've opened up to me." I pull him closer. "Thank you for that."
He kisses the top of my head and plays with the ends of my hair.
We lie like that while the afternoon goes fully dark outside, talking about nothing consequential — school, theories, something about the philosophy of game theory that he knows more about than I expected, and that leads us somewhere interesting for a while.
It's easy.
That's the thing about Beckett. He's so easy to be near that I forget, sometimes, the things I'm not supposed to forget.
He leaves at five.
I check my phone the second the door closes.
Cody still hasn't responded to my text. No call back. Nothing. I stare at his name in my contacts, and unease spreads through my bones. Did something happen to him?
Me: Hey. Still haven't heard back. Hope you're okay.
I put the phone down.
Pick it up.
Put it down again.
On the fifth check in twenty minutes, it rings, and I grab it so fast I don't look at the screen before I answer.
"Hello?"
"Hello? That's how you answer?" Maeve's voice, warm and laughing. "What happened to ‘hi, best friend! I missed you so much?’"
I exhale. "Hi, best friend. I missed you so much."
"Better. Okay, so how was last night? Did you sleep over? Don't lie to me."
I laugh. "No. It wasn't like that."
"Oh, he's still recovering, I see." She sounds genuinely sympathetic and also genuinely nosy, which is the most Maeve combination possible. "I was sort of hoping you'd stop by on your way back to UW."
"He's at his dad's house. I was still far."
"Okay, good," she says. And then, without pausing for breath, she dives directly into the drama of Penelope and Julian because, apparently, Julian has started texting Elena, and it's a whole situation. And Maeve has opinions about every layer of it.
"And Ryan?" I ask when she pauses.
"Oh, babe. Ryan is in Mallorca with some friends. He posted a story."
"Mallorca."
"I know." She sounds equal parts impressed and offended. "Without telling anyone."
I smile, sitting on my bed in the dark with my coat still on the floor where Beckett dropped it. Maeve continues, and in this moment, everything feels right. I don’t know how I’ll break it off with Cody, deal with Beckett, or make progress with Theo, but it’s all hopeful.
Then there’s a knock at my door. Maybe it’s Beckett, I assume.
"Maeve, hold on. Someone's knocking."
I kick the jolt of dread that rips through me.
Maeve says, "Maybe it's your roommate. Call me back."
"Okay."
I cross the room and open the door and nearly drop my phone.