Chapter 15
Beckham
“You did a good job with the paps on the way out,” I say, smiling down at Andi. Her apartment is so close to the beach, you can smell the ocean breeze in the air.
She leans against her doorframe with a returning grin. It’s far more relaxed and casual than the ones she pasted onto her face on the way into the restaurant.
With each squeeze of my pounding heart, I have to stop the urge to take a step forward and into her apartment. I already knew I was pushing boundaries, coming in earlier with those flowers, but I seriously couldn’t help it.
If things were different, maybe I’d get an invitation inside.
“All thanks to you,” she says.
“You should head in now. It’s a bit chilly. Wouldn’t want you to freeze.”
“How considerate of you,” she says, straightening. Her eyes dart between mine as an awkward pause fills the air between us.
She’s strikingly beautiful. Her makeup is done differently today than it was on set yesterday. Maybe because she did it herself.
She’s really damn good at it. It accentuates all her best features. Her cute button nose, her sharp eyes, her ridiculously kissable lips.
“I... should go,” I say, awkwardly clearing my throat.
“Goodnight, Beck. Thank you for tonight.”
“Night, Starlight. Dream sweet for me.”
She offers me one final smile, paired with a roll of her eyes before shutting the door.
It takes me a second to collect myself before I head back to the elevator. My foot taps against the tile, my mind racing a million miles a minute, right alongside my heart.
The moment I wrench open the door to the backseat and meet Eli’s gaze in the rear-view mirror, he knows something is up.
“Everything good?” His brows draw down in concern as he drums his thumbs against the steering wheel.
A thumb I’ve sucked into my mouth during my heat—
Holy shit, where did that thought come from?
My burnt caramel perfume leaks from me. It’s one of the things I hate about my omega status. I can’t even be horny in peace.
Maybe I’m all worked up because I was sitting next to Andi all night. There’s just something about how calming her perfume was and how stunning she looked in that dress of hers. It had me grateful for the fact I was sitting down, because I was definitely hard for her under the table.
“I need to go to the studio,” I say, drumming my own fingers against my lap in a complex, anxious rhythm.
“It’s pretty late—” Leo’s words die on his tongue the moment he glances up from his phone to see my face in the backseat. “I guess we’re going to the studio.”
The two of them have been friends with me long enough to know that when I have a creative itch, it needs to be scratched, or else I’m insufferable
“You guys don’t have to stay with me, you can just drop me off and I’ll call an Uber or something back home—”
“We’ll stay,” Eli scoffs.
“I didn’t have any other plans for the night.” Leo shrugs.
“You guys are the best,” I say, slumping back into my seat.
The silence that fills the car between the three of us is filled with an unusual sort of tension. One that’s only really been present since Andi first made an appearance in our lives.
“Inspired, huh?” Eli comments, deceptively casual.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” I mumble, unsure of how to navigate this conversation. There’s a hint of sourness to Eli’s blood orange scent that I’m pretty sure comes from jealousy.
Jealousy because he’s no longer my big muse?
“Haven’t seen you like this in a while,” Eli mumbles.
If I were in any other mood than the one I’m in right now, I’d probably say some shit back. For now, I’m fighting the urge to pull out my phone and hum some of the melodies floating around in my head.
“Don’t give him a hard time,” Leo whispers in return.
Actually, why am I waiting? This is my job now.
“Ignore me, guys,” I say before pulling out my phone. I check my notifications, scanning them for Andi’s name. My heart twists when I don’t see it.
By the time we pull up to the music studio, I’ve got a few voice-notes of mumbled lyrics and hummed melodies.
I nearly trip over the curb on the way into the studio because of how absent-minded I am right now.
“Whoa there,” Eli says, grabbing my waist and steadying me. I melt into his strong arms, like I normally do. It’s like my body is pre-programmed for it.
The touch is casual. Familiar, even.
Far too familiar for being out in public.
“Sorry,” Eli grunts, realizing his mistake and ripping his hands away from my body. His eyes scan the dark parking lot around us, looking for any sign of someone who may have seen.
It’s like a splash of cold water on my racing mind.
Looks like we’re both still worked up after this whole big change. I don’t think I’ve been photographed this much in such a short amount of time. It’s leaving us on edge.
“It’s fine,” I say, flashing him a reassuring smile. “It’s late. There’s no one here.”
Eli swallows hard, his eyes lingering on me before he offers me a stiff nod.
There’s so much that goes unsaid in the brief moment of silence that fills the space between us. The sound of a siren from a few blocks over jolts me back into reality.
“We should head in.”
This is how things go with us. Moments full of tension that neither of us can really put into words, that neither of us can confront.
Leo holds open the door for me, and I step in, making my way down the hallway to my favorite studio booth at the end of the hall.
“I’ll go get us some coffee, seems like it’s gonna be a long night,” Leo says, calling after me.
“Thanks, man.”
“No problem.”
I love this place. It belongs to the record company Everett owns, meaning that the only people who use it are either artists Everett has signed or people he personally gives permission to. Not only is everything state of the art, but there’s a sense of privacy and safety I only feel when I’m here.
“Wait,” Eli says, reaching for my wrist.
He spins me to face him, his thumb brushing along the inside of my wrist in a way he knows sends shivers down my spine. Now that we’re away from the threat of prying eyes, he seems to vibrate with the need to make up for the awkward moment outside.
“What’s up?” I breathe out.
“You two looked awful close tonight.”
“Andi and I?” I ask, blinking at him. His question grates against my nerves. “Eli, I don’t have time for this. I just want to get into the booth.”
Eli purses his lips, his jaw working.
“Sorry, I’m not—this is coming out wrong. It seems like she had a difficult night.”
“Yeah, she was freaked out by the lights, I think. They probably reminded her of—”
“Of that night,” Eli says, interrupting me.
“Yeah.”
“Was she... okay?”
I don’t understand where Eli is going with this. I can’t help but feel like all these questions are just dancing around what he really wants to know.
My hesitation seems to be some sort of answer to his unspoken question, regardless of my intention.
“Yeah, she was,” I say finally. “She calmed down when we had a bit of privacy.”
“Because of you?”
I definitely don’t answer this loaded question fast enough. He drops my hand like he regrets ever touching me.
“Right,” he mutters. “Of course she did.”
The emotional whiplash leaves me spinning. I don’t really know what to label this thing between Eli and I, but despite only existing in the privacy of our home and down alleyways and dark hallways, it’s the realest thing I’ve had with someone.
But the last way I’d ever describe it is calm.
We’re all unspoken words, meaningful glances, and passion away from the prying eyes of anyone who could report to the media.
You know who is calm?
Andi.
Effortlessly so.
But by the very nature of the contracts our teams signed, whatever thing I feel is blossoming between us is being built upon the foundation of a fake relationship.
It’s moments like these that I hate my designation. I feel eternally needy. I need Eli and his help through my heats that the OCN still hasn’t found proper medication formulas to keep at bay. I’m starting to feel like I need Andi to need me.
I’m always the one in the position needing the help of people around me.
But Andi has no one.
Which means I get to swoop in and rescue her, and man, is that feeling intoxicating.
“Why are you doing this to me?” My voice is strained as I squeeze the question out. “You know—you know how—how overwhelming my designation is. I know I—”
My throat closes as I close my eyes, my chin dropping to my chest. I can’t look at him right now, probably in the same way he couldn’t touch me anymore.
“I know I’m a burden. I know how much you’ve had to sacrifice and give up to help keep me sane and functioning and alive, and I know it’s only because of my designation.”
“That’s not—Fuck, Beck—”
“But I can’t handle this,” I say, interrupting him, finally building up the courage to look up at him. “I can’t, Eli.”
He’s frozen, his dark eyes wide and his jaw slack. I wonder what’s going through his head.
Are his emotions as ridiculous and overwhelming as an alpha? Or is my designation just a curse for me?
“I should get into the studio,” I say with a shake of my head. There are so many thoughts swirling through my mind. So many feelings I need to let out.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Eli says, with a stiff nod. “Sorry. I can never fucking say the right thing.”
“It’s okay,” I say, my smile tight. “Neither can I.”
The moment the studio door closes behind me, I finally feel like I can fucking breathe.
I flick on the dim lamps rather than the harsh overheads and grab the acoustic guitar hanging against the wall before slumping into the couch.
A jumbled mishmash of thoughts and feelings swirl around in my brain.
There’s a sixth sense I’ve seemed to have developed for experiences in life that really fuel my creativity. I’ve gotten into moods like these, where I just have to create or else I feel like I’m going to explode. It’s been like that ever since I was a kid.
But there’s something about Andi, about Eli, about this whole mess, that’s like gasoline. The flames in my mind are almost overwhelming.