Chapter 28 – Beck
BECK
Rosie’s green eyes take on a sultry hue beneath the bar lights. They draw me in while she peers at me over her glass. My skin heats under her intense gaze and I can’t seem to resist staring right back at her.
She’s killing me right now with how tempting she looks sitting atop the pool table, pushing her disheveled auburn hair away from her face and sipping her whiskey.
Rosie dressed in a pair of my dad’s boxer shorts and a worn black Wranglers T-shirt should be a turnoff.
But instead, the view of her is sucking me in.
She bends a knee and rests her leg on the pool table, causing the shorts to ride up further and reveal even more tanned skin. The way the oversized shirt is slipping off one lightly freckled shoulder is distracting and sexy as hell. She’s gotta know what she’s doing to me.
At last, I break eye contact and return my focus on the dart board while the music fills the dead air between us. I throw a couple more darts, but my head is spinning. Being back in Rosie’s presence has me questioning all life’s choices.
What if I hadn’t been so stubborn? What if she hadn’t left? What if I’d known about Charlotte sooner?
But the thought of Charlie evokes irritation, and my shoulders tighten. I abandon the darts in the board this time and turn to face Rosie. The whiskey must be working its magic because she appears relaxed, content even.
“So the boyfriend,” I say, using the word choice purposefully. It gets a little scoff from her but this time she doesn’t correct me. Hmm, progress maybe. “Is he good to Charlotte?”
“Of course,” she hisses. “I would never be with someone if they didn’t treat her right. Never.”
“Good, good.” I shake my head, not really sure where I’m going with this. Yeah, I wanna know, but I don’t want to piss her off again. Especially when we called another truce. “And she…likes him?”
Rosie shifts so she’s sitting cross-legged, drawing my attention to her bare skin that’s been kissed with freckles. I fight back a groan as my dick twitches in my pants, and I fold my lips in between my teeth.
“She does,” she answers. “But she hasn’t fully let her guard down around him yet. It takes her a while to trust someone enough to be herself around them. I suppose that’s my fault. We didn’t stay in one place long enough for her to build steady relationships. Not until now.”
“So now, with him…it’s permanent?” This time I don’t intentionally emphasize my words, but I can’t help it. Because even though I’ve never met him, I know he’s not right for Charlie. Or for Rosie.
“I did say yes when he proposed.”
I move across the room and decide it’s safer to create distance. I lean my back against the pool table across from the one she’s sitting on. “But you’re not married.” I point out.
“Well, no. Not yet.” She purses her lips. “Because I’m still married to you.”
I cross one ankle over the other and smirk. “Oh, right. That.”
“Yeah, that,” she deadpans.
We lock eyes again and I dare to ask, “You sure he’s right for you?”
She tears her gaze away from me and dips her chin. “You don’t get to ask me that, Beck. You lost those privileges.”
“Fine. You’re right. But I have the right to ask about Charlie,” I say. She whips up her head, worry smearing her expression. “Is he right for her?”
“That’s not fair.”
“No, what’s not fair is finding out I have a kid six years after she was born.”
Her lower lip wobbles. “Beck,” she whispers.
“So many decisions were made without me. Now that I know I’m her father, I should at least have a say in where she lives. Who she lives with. Don’t you think?”
“You’re right. And I know we need to have this conversation. We need to have a lot of conversations before I head back to Seattle. But I don’t think tonight is the right time. It’s been a long day. My body hurts. And we’ve been drinking.”
She’s right. I know she’s right. But I almost push it. I almost choose now to argue my case on my rights as Charlie’s father. That I want her here, in Golden Harbor. That I want Rosie here too.
But she leans back on her hands, and it causes her chest to thrust forward like it’s on display.
Damn she’s tempting. Sitting there like a delicious meal waiting to be devoured on top of that pool table.
A guttural groan slides up my throat as I try to ease my erection.
I’m like a teenager because it distracts me from my anger and frustration. She’s always had this effect on me.
“Truce?” I find myself questioning.
A small smile slips onto her lips, and she dips her chin. “Truce.”
I return the smile in agreement and sling back what’s left in my glass. The once sweet and burning liquid is watered down from the melted ice.
The sound of Rosie humming the song that’s reverberating through the speakers whirs in my chest. Two shots of whiskey aren’t much but it’s enough to cause a buzz in my head. I refuse to believe it’s from the seductive woman across from me.
“Besides just looking like you, she’s a lot like you,” Rosie says softly, and I train my eyes on her, trying to listen and not look at her tits. “She’s cautious like you. Doesn’t warm up to just anyone. So if it feels like it’s taking her a while, be patient with her. She’ll come around.”
I nod along with her while she continues talking but I don’t speak.
“She loves art. Which you’ve already noticed.
Guess she gets that from you too. She’s been drawing and coloring since before she even knew how to write her name.
” She lets out a little laugh. “Once Charlie colored on some of Weston’s papers for work.
He wasn’t very happy, but after that he came home with an easel and large white sheets of paper. ”
My chest rises and falls rapidly. It’s like learning about someone you hardly know but somehow you have this connection to.
“She can’t hardly go anywhere slow. You’ve seen her. She skips everywhere. Oh, and she loves candy but hates chocolate.”
“You’re kidding? Are you sure she’s your kid?” I deflect and chuckle. My heartbeat quickens and I try to inhale a measured breath through my nose.
“She can be anxious too. No panic attacks yet, luckily.”
My gut twists at learning this. She’s only six and already she’s showing signs of anxiety. It kills me that I would pass that on to her. “Why…why are you telling me this? Now, I mean. I’ve been spending a lot of time with her.”
Her eyes go wide and guilt flashes across her expression. “I just thought you might want to know more about your daughter.”
“Well, it sucks.”
“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to…”
“I mean that it sucks that she got that from me.”
“Oh…I know, right? Who doesn’t like chocolate?” She smiles.
But I don’t find any of this amusing. I shove splayed fingers through my hair, pushing it back. “Not that,” I bite out.
“You mean anxiety? We don’t know if that’s hereditary or not.”
My limbs tingle and heat rises in my core, spreading down my arms and into my face. My heart rate accelerates and the beats punch against my chest.
“Hey? Are you okay?” Rosie’s voice is soft and muffled, almost like she’s under water.
“I’m…f-fine,” I stutter, the simplest words being forced out.
I tell myself to stop focusing on what is happening with my body and instead, make myself breathe. Just like Dr. Sam taught me. But when the panic hits me this hard, my body and my mind betray me. That’s the thing about anxiety: you don’t have any control over it. It controls you.
“Beck, look at me.” Rosie speaks louder, attempting to break me free from this before I spiral.
“Jus-s-t…keep talking to me. You know, like you used to?” I whisper.
She straightens and I move closer to her. I’ve got no right, but Rosie doesn’t hesitate to reach for my hand. Her cool touch zings like electricity straight to my veins. But it’s not enough to ground me. I squeeze back the tears welling in my eyes.
“Open your eyes and look at me,” she commands.
It takes a few moments for my brain to signal my eyes to open. My gaze flutters, taking Rosie in with a glossy view. My breathing releases in tiny, rumbling gasps.
“Good,” she coaxes, holding my hand in hers and brushing her thumb across my knuckles. “Now take a deep breath and hold it for a few seconds.”
My heart continues to race and I’m panting now like I’ve just run several miles.
Rosie fists the front of my T-shirt, hauling me closer to her until our foreheads press together. The intensity of the physical contact triggers my senses. I suck in a breath and hold it for a few seconds before releasing it.
“Good. Now another.” Her gaze is earnest.
I inhale another breath, and this time I hold it longer.
Rosie mimics me, matching her breathing with mine, and it anchors me.
With one hand splayed next to her on the pool table, I reach my other around her back.
The yearning to hold something tangible is so powerful I don’t think; I only act.
I glide my hand down until I reach her ass and grasp it in my palm.
My awareness of our close proximity heightens and threatens to send me further into this spiral. But as we lock eyes, I stare into the familiar green hue and see everything I’ve ever known to be good and right in my life. I see my person. I see my lover. I see my…home.
Rosie doesn’t release her grip from my shirt. Or the pressure of her forehead from mine. She reaches up to the back of my neck and rakes her fingers through my hair. It sends a shiver racing through my body.
As my breathing evens, my heart continues to gallop in my chest for an entirely different reason. Rosie is in my arms. It’s something I hadn’t realized I’ve been longing for until this moment. All this time I’ve been holding on to anger and resentment, and it’s blinded me from my true feelings.
I still love her.
Rosie’s grasp tightens around my neck and I draw back slightly, pressing my lips to her forehead.
Her skin sears my mouth beneath the kiss I give her.
Soft, lasting, purposeful. As her eyes flutter closed, she releases a throaty exhale.
The sound awakens a numbness of emotions and arousal I’ve been fighting to depress.
With my hand still gripping her ass, I haul her against my hard length. She draws in a sharp breath and her eyes fly open, the green now dark and feral. I drop my gaze to her full lips. They’re rosy and alluring and I’ve never been more tempted to smash my mouth against hers.
I want her. She knows I want her. And yet—I know I can’t have her.
As she tips her head back, she gives me a shy smile and my hope shatters.
She releases the clutch on my T-shirt and slides her palm down from my neck and across my chest. And suddenly I’m blaringly aware of just how close I came to kissing her.
How close I came to grazing the cuff of her ear with my lips and murmuring, Are you wet for me, honey?
Instead, I’m doing the very last thing I want to—withdrawing from her. “Well, it’s a good thing Charlie has you,” I whisper and release my holding of her. My knees wobble as I take an agonizing step backward and exhale a shuddering breath. “You always know how to handle a panic attack.”
“Yeah.” The word vibrates from her chest. “I’m glad I was here.
I mean…I’m glad I could help.” She hops off the pool table and stands before me, her vision slipping down to see how bad I want her.
There’s no hiding it—my cock is standing at attention, hard as steel.
Her gaze darts back up and pink highlights her freckled cheeks.
“I should get some sleep. Tomorrow is a busy day,” she rushes out as she adjusts the T-shirt to cover her shoulder, nibbling on her lip and driving me even wilder.
“Yeah, me too.” I lift my arm as if I’m excusing her and giving her permission to leave.
Dipping her chin to her chest, she tucks her hair behind her ear and shuffles away. “Good night, Beck,” she calls over her shoulder.
“Night, Rosie.”
I let myself watch her as she walks away, shuffling down the hallway to the door that leads to my dad’s upstairs apartment. It’s a cruel reminder in a way. Like I’m always watching her walk away.