Chapter 8 #3
“Oh. No.” He shakes his head. “He’s just—” Beck’s forehead wrinkles with a new expression. Like he doesn’t know how to explain this to me, but that it isn’t going to be something good.
“He’s difficult,” he says finally. “He loses his balance and falls a lot, but he doesn’t want to use his walker. He’s angry. He doesn’t want help, but he still needs it.”
I huff. “That last part sounds like me.” I blurt the words, and the surprise on his face has me regretting them immediately.
“What? No way.” He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t describe you as angry. Besides, you don’t push me away. You let me in.”
“I want you in,” I blurt again. And then I blush when he cracks a smile.
But I cover my face with my free hand. “Closing my eyes again. Keep talking.”
Beck chuckles and his hand closes around mine, and before I know it, his lips are on my knuckles.
Wow. No one’s ever kissed my hand before. It’s nicer than I thought it would be.
My blush grows hotter.
“Anyway, he’s had a bad week. And Griff and I spent almost all day yesterday mounting handrails around the house and building a ramp off the front porch so he doesn’t have to struggle with the steps.
” I hear Beck scoff lightly. “I didn’t expect him to thank us or anything.
But I also wasn’t exactly prepared for him to curse us out for messing up Mom’s house before hobbling to his room and slamming the door. ”
I lower my hand from my face and peek at Beck, forgetting all about being embarrassed. Because Beck is a good person. He’s a kind person. And he deserves kindness in return. And it must’ve hurt to get that from his dad after he’d tried so hard to help him.
It makes me want to pull him into my arms, but I’m worried about someone else I know seeing us and having a hissy fit.
Still, I can’t help reaching out and laying a hand in the middle of his chest.
It’s quite a nice chest.
I can feel the thump of his heart. It quickens beneath my touch, and I wonder if he doesn’t like this or if I should’ve asked for consent like I did with the kiss.
But then his hand flattens over mine, and he presses my palm just a little harder against him.
And that’s nice too.
“See? This is why,” he murmurs.
I blink, tearing my gaze away from our hands. And the warmth in his amber eyes makes my own chest burn just a little. Like someone turned up the heat in his already toasty gaze.
“Why what?”
Beck licks his lips, and for a moment, all I can think about is how his mouth tastes, and how I’d very much like to taste it again.
“Why I was hanging onto the thought of seeing you again. Being around you? It feels good.”
A shiver that is the opposite of cold rolls over me. It touches every nerve ending. “Being around you feels good too.” I barely recognize my voice. It’s like I’ve just swallowed a mouthful of buttery maple syrup.
Seriously, I feel like I’ve woken up from the most delicious nap.
Beck smiles, but there’s something in it holding it back from full brightness. “I—”
Taylor Edwards’ “Call Your Sister” peals from my phone, making us both jump.
“That’s my—”
“Sister?” Beck smirks at me, and it’s really cute. I’d like to keep staring at him, but Taylor Edwards won’t shut up.
I reach into my pocket. I know why she’s calling. Ms. Alicia’s already gotten to her. So I should probably answer.
I accept the call and put the phone to my ear. “Margaret, I’m fine,” I announce.
Okay, maybe I shout it.
Silence.
Then, “Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Margaret’s words are measured, careful. “Merrick’s mom called and—”
“And she’s a nosy busy-body who lives to wreck first dates.”
My sister sighs heavily over the phone. “That’s—okay, that’s fair, but—”
“She told Beck I wasn’t independent.”
Silence.
“I’m assuming Beck is your date?”
I blink up at him. I hadn’t exactly forgotten he was there, but my irritation at this second interruption—one that’s obviously just a tributary of the first—sort of carried me away. But now that I search Beck’s face, it’s clear that he can hear what we’re saying, and he’s paying close attention.
I squeeze his hand, and I’m so damn grateful when he squeezes back.
“Yes. His name is Beck Olivier. And this is our first date. And it was going really well before Ms. Alicia ruined it.”
But Beck gives a slow shake of his head and mouths, She didn’t ruin it.
And, boy, do I really like him.
“Hattie, are you still at the park?” Margaret asks, and I can hear an edge of… something in her voice.
“Yes. I’m still on my date with Beck. I shut down after Ms. Alicia left, and Beck got a blanket out of his truck, and we’re lying down by the pond, and I finally feel better, so I hope you’re not calling to try to make things worse.
” My temper threatens to flare. I don’t want to get angry with Margaret, so she better not make me.
“Hattie, I’m not trying to ruin your date. I just—” She makes a frustrated noise. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going on a date? We talked yesterday. Did you have plans before yesterday?”
A quick search of Beck’s eyes says that, yep, he heard that too, and, yep, he might be wondering the same thing.
I give a little scoff. “I’m a grown-ass woman. Do I have to tell everyone my business?”
The corner of Beck’s mouth quirks, drawing out his lovely parenthesis, but Margaret’s response steals my enjoyment of it.
“Yes, Hattie. I would never go on a first date with a guy without telling someone where I’d be and when I’d be back.”
I frown. “Even on your first date with Merrick?” Surely not. Merrick is so wholesome. Such a gentleman. Surely, Margaret trusted him from the start.
Margaret snorts. “On my first date with Merrick, I told half the girls in Kappa Delta where I’d be, and I shared my location with Camille.”
Blink. Blink. Blink. “Y-you did?”
And now Beck is arching an eyebrow at me as if to ask, You didn’t?
“Of course, I did! Hattie, you’re a grown-ass woman, so you have to be smart and protect yourself. That’s what we all have to do.”
Beck’s mouth is a straight line. He’s nodding in silent solidarity with my sister.
I trust Margaret. Of course, I do. And I think I can trust Beck. So maybe they are right about this.
Which means I was wrong. Wrong not to tell anyone what I was doing or who I was doing it with.
A pit opens in my stomach.
Was I supposed to know this? Is this something people who are truly independent already know?
And this uncertainty and self-doubt must show on my face because Beck brings my knuckles to his lips again and plants a kiss on them, and this one is even better than the first one because now I’m watching, and I like the way it looks.
“It’s okay,” he whispers, but he must be close enough for Margaret to hear.
“Is that him?” She asks. But before I answer, she hollers. “HI, BECK! I’M HATTIE’S SISTER MARGARET!”
I jerk the phone away from my ear until she stops shouting. “Jeez! Will you shut up? You’re embarrassing me.”
But Beck is laughing. “Hi, Margaret. Your sister is great,” he tells her, looking straight into my eyes, and another warm shiver rolls over me. Then he glances back to the phone and winces. “I don’t think I made a very good impression on your future mother-in-law. Sorry about that.”
Margaret chuckles. “Um… She had mixed reviews, but I’ll form my own opinion when we meet in person.”
“I am hanging up now!” I declare, mortified.
“Wait!” Margaret shouts. “Share your location with me first. Before you hang up. Or I’ll just call back.”
I roll my eyes. Margaret is not one to make idle threats. “Fine.”
I pull the phone away from my ear and, wearing a scowl, change my location sharing settings so she can track me.
“But I’m only doing this because you said you shared yours with Camille on your first date with Merrick,” I say defensively.
“And every first date before that,” she tells me, but I can hear the smile in her voice when she mutters, “Thank God those days are over.”
My scowl vanishes. Because that’s pretty cute. It makes me happy that she’s so happy.
“Okay, now I’m hanging up,” I say.
“Bye, Hattie. BYE, BECK! I HOPE WE GET TO MEET SOO—”
But I end the call. She’s way too loud.
And, apparently this is hilarious, because Beck tips his head back with a belly laugh. It’s better than cheesecake.
My phone buzzes with a text.
Margaret: We still need to talk about you making out in public. Call me when you get home.
I fire off a quick reply.
Me: DO NOT TELL MOM AND DAD!
Margaret: Why would I need to tell them anything if you call me back???
I sigh.
Me: I’LL CALL YOU BACK. AFTER MY DATE.
Margaret: Have fun. PG kissing only.
“So it’s not just to me,” Beck says, eying the screen of my phone.
I blink. “What’s not just to you?”
He nods toward the device in my hand. “The caps lock.”
“Oh. That.” I roll my eyes. “I know everyone else hates it, but all caps is inherently superior. It’s simple. It’s clear. There’s no random case rules. Like ‘I.’ Why is ‘I’ capitalized, but not ‘me’ or ‘you’? How does that make sense?”
Beck’s grin is falling somewhere between surprised and… and… I don’t know what.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I blurt.
He squints his eyes, the look a little sassy. “I never said I hated it.”
“Y-you don’t?!”
Beck shakes his head, pleased with himself. “Nope. I like it. It’s like I can hear your voice in the all-caps texts.”
I wince. “Yeah. Grandma Eloise once said that even my texts were too loud.”
Now Beck frowns. “I don’t think I’m a fan of Grandma Eloise.”
That same team feeling? It comes back in a giddy rush. Like my blood cells have taken up surfing.
“She’s a cranky old twat,” I say jubilantly. And, let’s face it, loudly.
Beck falls apart laughing. I fall with him.
God. This is the best feeling.
We lie on our backs, side by side, laughing until we are breathless and watery-eyed.
Beck turns on his side to look at me, wiping the heel of his hand against his eyes. “Grandma Eloise may be… what you said… but Margaret seems cool.”