Chapter 33
Andi
The longer we’re in the sprinter van headed towards Beck’s hometown, the more Eli’s muscles tense up.
It’s hard to ignore, with him seated in front of me. He’s so big that I can still see his shoulders peeking up from the back of the seat.
I have a sneaking suspicion it has to do with his less-than-ideal childhood. If I’d made it away from my mom and all her bullshit, I wouldn’t be eager to head back either.
“Hey Everett?” I ask, scooting across the empty seat beside me.
Everett’s ankle is resting on his opposite knee, serving as a table for his laptop. It looks small compared to the size of his hands. He glances up, adjusting the glasses he’s wearing.
Damn, those glasses look good on him.
“Do you need glasses all the time?”
“I’m farsighted, so only when I’m working with things up close,” he says, his lips quirking as he tilts his head.
“Old man,” I say, between a fake cough, unable to resist the temptation to tease him.
He rolls his eyes.
“I’ve been farsighted since I was your age. Do you have an actual question, or is the brattiness a sign of restlessness?”
The way he says the word brattiness has my breath hitching in my throat.
Am I a brat?
I mean, when I’m with him, maybe I am.
But maybe that means I’m only 25% brat, considering my brain seems to be fixated on the other three.
“Honey?” Everett prompts, his voice smooth and seductive.
“Honey?” I squeak out. “Where did that come from?”
He shrugs, his lips quirking up into a smirk. “The rest have their nicknames. And I do love the way your scent sweetens like honey.”
“Well, um, I did—” I say, shaking my head and trying to get rid of the buzzing in my mind from his words. Because he knows damn well when my perfume sweetens like that. “Have a question, that is,” I finish awkwardly.
He nods, waiting for me to ask.
“Well, I was just wondering how in the world you got my mom to sign off on this trip?”
“First of all, you’re an adult,” he says, his expression growing serious. “You don’t need your mother’s permission to go on a road trip.”
“That’s all dandy and good, but you and I both know my mom’s not...”
“Yes,” he sighs, glancing away. “Long story short, I tweaked the contract a little. Changed some percentages here and there.”
My jaw falls.
“So you... bribed her? With money?”
Will that be money I owe them? I mean, I should owe them, right? They’re taking money out of their pockets and putting it into hers just so I can join them.
They didn’t need me on this trip. They could’ve done it without me.
“Honey, you’re thinking an awful lot,” Everett says, his voice low. He shuts his laptop and slides it into the seat pocket in front of him before shifting to the side and patting the seat next to him.
I find my body moving before I even realize what I’m doing.
See? I can follow instructions. I’m totally not a brat.
“Sorry,” I mumble, drawing my gaze up to meet his.
“It wasn’t a bribe. It was a... business arrangement. One you don’t have to worry about. It didn’t eat into any of their cuts,” he says, gesturing at the front of the sprinter van to the rest of the guys.
“So it ate into yours?” I push, my brows drawing down.
“Smart one, aren’t you?” He shrugs, his lips quirking up. “It’s fine, I have more than enough money. There are more important things to me than that.”
I can’t help but think he means I am more important to him than money.
Which is a beautiful sentiment.
Probably easier when you’re fucking loaded, but still.
“Okay,” I say, offering him a soft smile. “Well, then, thank you. I’m glad I don’t have to worry about her breathing down my neck, at least for the trip.”
“You’re very welcome,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “How are you feeling about the journalist?”
“Who, Cameron? Oh, I’m feeling fine. Especially after he said I could join him on the project. He’s actually not that big of a dick. I think he was just under a lot of pressure that first night.”
“You’re a very gracious person.”
“Actually, I’m a bitch.”
“I haven’t seen that side of you at all.”
The earnestness in his statement has me frowning.
But I am.
My mom has called me a bitch since I started puberty and growing the hint of a mind of my own.
The media have certainly called me a bitch, or some sort of equivalent over the years.
And I get called a bitch on the internet all the time, especially in those edits of Beck the internet seems so fond of these days.
Hell, I get called a bitch in my own comment section. I’ve had to filter out the word, especially since this whole fake-dating thing with Beck has started.
That reminds me, I should definitely get some shots for my next “day in the life” video. It’ll be a good promo for the docuseries.
“Hey guys, we’re thirty minutes out!” Cameron calls from the front of the van.
He’s seated with Aspen, his camera person. They’re tall with a septum nose ring and an edgy undercut that I know I’d never be able to pull off. I haven’t had a chance to talk to them much since we just met today, but I’m excited.
The thought of being able to actually talk about cameras, filming, and logging footage without my mom breathing down my neck?
I’m excited.
But it’s really obvious that there’s one person here who’s absolutely not.
“I’ve been meaning to ask someone, do you know what’s up with Eli?” I whisper to Everett.
Everett glances at the other stiff alpha, pursing his lips.
“I think that’s something you should ask him, Honey. His story to tell.”
“Okay.” I nod.
Well, that answer certainly means it has something to do with his childhood or something.
I offer Everett a parting smile, but I think he knew the moment I asked that I’d be going to Eli eventually.
“You’re a sweetheart,” he says quietly, offering me a small nod.
The only response I can come up with to that compliment is a shrug.
Because seriously, what else am I supposed to say? I’m not used to all these... compliments. I get them from all the guys in some form or another.
Eli’s normally come wrapped in snarky teasing, which is a fun contrast to Beckham’s playfulness or Leo’s sincerity.
Even Cameron has been giving me compliments, the more we’ve been talking about the project.
Which is crazy because the guy thought I was a stupid bitch when we first met.
“Hey,” I say, sliding into the seat beside Eli.
He’s so massive he takes up about a third of it.
“How the hell does a guy like you fit in economy?” I say absentmindedly.
He peers down at me from the corner of his eye, his brows drawing down in confusion.
Well, that’s better than him being pissed.
“I don’t fly economy.”
“Ohhh, look at Mr. Moneybags over here,” I tease.
He just rolls his eyes.
“Didn’t have a need to fly before Beck blew up. And when he did, we were always flown business class. Now, we can afford it ourselves.”
“That... makes sense.” My failed attempt at humor makes my shoulders deflate ever so slightly. “Looks like I wouldn’t make a good court jester. Do you feel like talking at all about what’s going on in that head of yours, or do you just want company?”
He stares at me, his dark gaze boring into me.
“Or—or if you don’t want company, I can leave,” I say, pushing myself up to my feet.
“Stay.” He reaches out and grips my wrist gently. “Please.”
How can a girl say no to a request like that?
“Okay, I’m staying.”
I settle back in my seat.
“It’s... my dad,” he sighs. “Apparently, he’s got liver issues or something. Bad ones. Like, if he doesn’t get a transplant, he’s fucked, kind of problem.”
“This the guy that...”
“Beat me as a kid? Yeah.”
“Apparently, he’s been telling both my mom and my sister to tell me to come home. I think it got out somehow that we’re coming back home. Probably Beck’s mom talking to mine. Now my dad won’t stop badgering my mom and baby sister about me.”
“That... sounds like a lot of pressure,” I say, reaching out hesitantly and resting it on his rock-hard thigh. It flexes under my touch. “No wonder you’ve been getting more and more stressed the closer we get there.”
“That obvious, huh?”
“I’d say subtle is in the last three adjectives I’d used to describe you,” I say, holding up three fingers like a Boy Scout. “Right next to ugly and scrawny.”
That finally gets his lips to quirk up in something similar to a smile.
“So you think I’m hot, jacked, and obnoxious,” he says, letting out a soft huff of laughter.
“I mean, I wouldn’t say obnoxious.”
The small quirk of his lips turns into a full-blown grin.
“You didn’t protest the hot and jacked part.”
“I’d have to be fucking blind to protest that. I’d also have to be paralyzed, so I couldn’t feel you. That’d be a dead giveaway,” I say, nudging his thigh with my own.
He lets out a bark of laughter.
It has Beck and Leo glancing at us from their conversation. I just offer them a small smile and a thumbs-up.
“They seem surprised you’re laughing,” I whisper conspiratorially.
“Because it is surprising,” he shrugs, his gaze intense as he stares down at me.
“You’re thinking really hard,” I murmur, my words parroting the same words Everett said to me a few minutes before.
“I am.”
“About?”
“When I go see my dad, will you come with me?”
I blink up at him, shocked by a few different aspects of his statement.
One, the ‘when’ he goes to see his dad. Not if.
Two, the fact that he wants me to go with him.
“You’ve made up your mind already?”
“For better or worse, I can’t really say no to my Momma. Especially can’t say no to my baby sister,” he sighs. “And they seem to think the situation’s pretty bad.”
“Do you—I don’t mean to doubt you—but do you think that’s a good idea? Especially if he... you know... hurt you as a kid.”
“As a kid is the key part of that statement. He stopped when I got big enough to fight back. I don’t think he’s gonna start anything. I’ll be fine. Physically, at least.”
Emotionally, it’ll probably be a different story.
“And you really think it’ll be helpful if I’m there?”
“I want—I want someone there with me. And—and unfortunately, I think bringing Beck will just cause more issues.”
“He doesn’t approve?”
“He’s a fucking bigot,” he bites out.