Chapter 21
Andi
“Wow, this is a nice ride,” I say, sweeping my hair over my shoulder and regretting the fact that I’ve worn it down today.
Beck grins at me, holding open the door to a sleek, dark blue convertible.
“I didn’t peg you as an Aston Martin guy.”
His grin falters for a split second before I rest my hand against his chest.
“I was just teasing.”
“Really?” He mimes wiping sweat off his brow. “Good, I was worried.”
“You shouldn’t be, it’s a nice car.” Really nice. I’m not much of a car girl, but I’ve been around enough people with nice cars to know this is only the kind of thing you can get when you’re really raking it in.
“It was my first real purchase. Kind of an impulse buy, if I’m being honest,” he says, shutting the door after I slide into the low seat. “I guess you could call it my quarter-life crisis.”
“Well, don’t frame it like that. If you do, people’re gonna assume you’re overcompensating,” I tease, my gaze drifting suggestively down his body.
I don’t know what it is, but there’s a swagger about him today that I hadn’t noticed before.
“Oh, I may be an omega, but trust me, Starlight. I’m not overcompensating for anything.”
The sun beats down from above, only intensifying the flush I feel on my cheeks. It’s surprisingly warm for this time of year. It’s LA, so par for the course, but still.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” I shoot back.
He freezes for a split second before wordlessly popping open a compartment and pulling out a pair of sunglasses to slide on. Then, he whips his head in my direction dramatically, drawing them down his nose and wiggling his brows.
“Oh, really now?”
I burst out laughing. Not the kind of delicate feminine laughter I practice for the cameras, but an embarrassing, snort-like laugh that has me slapping a hand over my mouth to try to muffle the sound.
He stares at me with this open sort of wonder that leaves me feeling far too exposed. I just embarrassed the hell out of myself, and he’s looking at me like I’m the most gorgeous woman on Earth.
“Shut up.” I push against his shoulder, rolling my eyes playfully.
I glance at my reflection in the side mirror, smoothing some of my hair away from my face. It flows around my shoulders in expertly done barrel curls, courtesy of my Dyson Airwrap.
“The wind is going to mess up my hair,” I mumble. “The paps are going to think we just fucked.”
Beck flashes me a wink and reaches over the center console, resting his hand on my thigh.
It’s not particularly high up. If anything, it’s closer to my knee than anywhere else, but I still feel the warmth of his hand through the thin fabric of my leggings.
“Let them,” he murmurs.
Wow.
Okay then.
My heart threatens to beat right out of my chest.
“Here, this is for you, too,” he says, reaching over me and popping the glove compartment open.
Inside is a zip-up hoodie that smells like him.
I have to fight the urge to bury my face in it and soak in his burnt caramel scent, but I’m pretty sure he catches me taking a subtle sniff.
Embarrassing. I need to get a better handle on myself.
“For me?”
“Yeah, Leo thought it’d be a good idea to have you wearing something I’ve been pictured in before. And it’s casual enough to scream that we’re the real deal.”
“Wow, you guys have given this a lot of thought.” I run my hand along the soft fabric.
“Of course we have. We think an awful lot about you, you know.”
I reach into my purse, pulling out my chunky sunglasses to give myself something to do with my hands.
There’s something about the way he says it that leaves me thinking he knows more about Leo and me than he’s openly saying right now.
I wouldn’t be surprised if Leo told him. They’ve been friends for a very long time, and anything I do reflects on Beck now.
Something in his expression settles, growing serious.
“I’ve been noticing the shit people say about you. Even in your own comment sections. If they’re really my fans, they should leave you alone.”
I don’t have much longer to think about it before Beck turns the car on and revs the engine.
My stomach does a little somersault as he pulls out onto the street. I’ve never had a thing for guys with obnoxious cars, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t see the appeal. Beck looks hot, with his sunglasses on, driving one-handed in a way that makes the cords in his forearms flex.
I wonder if they look that good because he plays guitar so much. From all the videos I’ve been watching of his live performances, he always seems to have a guitar in hand.
“You ready?” Beck asks as we near his studio.
I start trying to smooth my hair down. All in vain, since the wind still whips around us as he continues to drive.
“You look great,” he calls out, reaching and tugging my hands away from my hair. “Trust me.”
“Okay,” I say, biting my lower lip.
“Don’t look at me like that, or we’re not gonna make it to the studio!”
I can’t tell whether he’s joking or not.
“And why not?”
“Cause then I’m faced with the choice of crashing because all I can see is you or driving straight to my apartment.”
“You’re crazy!” I yell back, throwing my head back in laughter. I don’t know what it is with him today, but he’s even flirtier than usual.
He pulls into the parking lot, and I can already sense the camera lenses on us.
“I’ll be right here with you,” Beck says, flashing me a bright smile.
“Okay,” I nod, tugging on his zip-up hoodie and letting his scent wrap itself around me.
Maybe he’ll let me keep it.
Beck holds my hand, guiding me up to the studio.
I focus on breathing as the flashes start to go off.
I don’t know whether it’s because of Beck’s presence, my start in therapy, or the fact that the sun is shining, dimming the intensity of the flashes, but I’m able to make it inside without freaking out.
I make it a couple of steps into the studio building, closing my eyes and letting out a deep sigh of relief before I crash into someone.
“Whoa, there.” Leo’s soothing paper scent wraps itself around me.
His smile makes something flutter in my belly. It reminds me of the soft smile that never seemed to leave his face while he fed me in my kitchen the other night.
My own lips quirk into a tentative smile of their own, but I freeze when I realize I’m smiling at another man while still holding Beck’s hand.
Beck steps up behind me, dropping his face into the crook of my neck.
Is he... scent-marking me?
I stiffen in shock.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs against my skin, the warmth from his breath contrasting with the heavy air conditioner. “Don’t worry, I know.”
“And you... are okay with that?” I whisper back, my eyes locked on Leo, whose smile remains unwavering.
Beck brushes his lips against my jaw.
Wow. What alternative universe did I enter? I wonder how many girls would literally sell their souls for an opportunity like this one.
“More than okay. It just makes me jealous because I want to be yours, too.”
My eyes go wide as I stare at Leo, who doesn’t seem to have any form of protest.
With those parting words, he grabs my hand and starts walking me down the hall.
Is Beck saying he wants this thing between us to be... real?
My jaw is slack. I’ve lost all control over my facial muscles. I’m glad we’re inside, away from the prying eyes and camera lenses of the paparazzi, because if someone snapped a photo of my face, I’m sure my mother would blow it up on her tablet and pick apart everything wrong with my expression.
“Wait a second, Beck,” I say, as he guides me into a dimly lit studio.
I barely have time to take in my surroundings before he’s pressing me against the wall of the studio.
“But—but what about the contract?” I stutter, my hands coming up to rest on his shoulders.
This is all moving so fast.
“Screw the contract. I’m not pretending.”
His words make my brain short-circuit.
My entire life so far has been dictated by the whims of my mother. I’ve had contracts hanging over my head ever since I can remember.
There’s never been room in my life for what I actually want.
But I know, deep down, there’s a part of me that loves this. Loves his attention, his affections, his consideration.
I hear all the positive things he’s been telling me since I crashed into his life, and I desperately want to believe him.
What’s the worst that happens if I do?
“Tell me you want this too,” he murmurs, his arms bracketing around my head, caging me in.
We’re so close our breaths are becoming one. The air is thick with an intoxicating mix of my soothing chamomile and his sweet caramel perfume. It’s like no other combination I’ve ever scented, thick and heady.
The words I do are on the tip of my tongue, but before I have a chance to answer, the door to the studio opens.
Elijah stands there in the doorway, his gaze darting between Beck and I. In his hands are two cups of coffee.
There’s something heavy about his look. Beneath the hint of disapproval is… interest? And it’s not purely aimed at Beck either.
I have to be seeing things.
Elijah’s had it out for me ever since we met.
Instead of immediately jumping away from me, Beck lets out a small, disappointed sigh, leaning forward ever so slightly and bumping my forehead gently with his own.
“Got you guy’s coffee,” Elijah grunts, holding up the two cups.
“Both of us?” I ask as Beck takes a step back.
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” he huffs.
“You don’t have to be a dick,” I huff, rolling my eyes.
My arms immediately cross defensively over my chest. I feel far too exposed being caught like that after Beck’s confession.
He pauses, his jaw working before he lets out a deep sigh.
“You’re right. My bad,” he says, holding out a cup of coffee towards me.
“Thank you,” I say, blinking at him in surprise.
Who is this Elijah and what have they done with the original? Why in the world is he being so nice?
I absent-mindedly take a sip while my thoughts race at a million miles a minute. My eyes widen with surprise.
“This is...”
“A hot white chocolate mocha,” Elijah shrugs.
“That’s... my go-to order. How did you know?”
“You mentioned it in A Day in the Life video you posted a while back.”