Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
“No.” I shivered with delight. “Like a rough, hard, knock-the-breath-right-out-of-you kiss.”
“Was this before or after the prom thing?” Bianca asked.
“It was a couple weeks before. We were studying for a math test at his house, but I was upset and couldn’t concentrate, so we took a study break and went outside.”
“Upset about what?” asked Cheyenne, leaning forward.
“The AP calc exam, my overbearing mother, my asshole boyfriend . . . all of it was caving in on me. I felt like I was drowning. I remember we were standing under this big tree, and I was crying, then suddenly he just grabbed me and kissed me. But it was over really fast, and we never talked about it again.”
“Why not?” Blair asked with wide eyes.
“I think we were both kind of in shock—we didn’t know how to handle it. It was so out of character for him, and I had a boyfriend at the time.” I lifted my shoulders. “I always thought he did it because he felt sorry for me.”
“I bet there was more to it.” Cheyenne spoke confidently. “I bet he’d been holding back that kiss for a long time.”
“Maybe . . .” I played with the end of one braid again, thinking about our conversation on the couch last night. “He holds back a lot. Even now. Like, he’ll say something or do something that could be interpreted as suggestive, but then the next minute, he’s back to being all friend-zone again. And I wonder if I imagined it.”
“What kind of thing do you mean?” Bianca asked.
I hesitated, but ultimately gave in to the need for confidantes. It felt good to talk about my feelings, and even though I didn’t know these women well, somehow they inspired my trust. Maybe it was that they knew and loved Beckett.
“Last night,” I said. “I saw something.” After another sip of wine, I told them about coming downstairs to see Beckett holding my sweater to his face.
“Oh.” Cheyenne touched her heart. “That’s so sweet.”
“The guy is seriously into you, Maddie.” Blair shook her head. “You don’t smell someone’s clothes unless you want to be close to them.”
“What did you do?” Bianca asked.
“I panicked and ran away.” I laughed at the memory. “You should have seen me trying to scramble up the stairs as fast as I could without making any noise. And by the time I was back in my bedroom, I wasn’t sure I’d seen anything at all.”
“I think you know what you saw.” Bianca’s tone was confident. “You just don’t know what to do about it.”
“Can you blame me?” Sighing, I picked up my wine and stared into it. “I mean, it’s Beckett. You guys know what he’s like.”
Bianca sighed. “He’s that strong, silent type. Like an Old Hollywood cowboy.”
“And I like that about him—it’s hot,” I admitted. “I like that he projects strength and masculinity without being a toxic, arrogant dickhead. But it’s hard to know what he’s thinking.”
“And I feel like he’s always thinking,” said Blair. “He’s definitely ruled by his brain, not his—his—” Suddenly she looked like a demure Southern belle, like if she’d had a handheld fan, she might have hidden behind it.
“Hormones?” offered Cheyenne.
“Good grief, you guys.” Bianca’s expression was pained. “Can we not say dick?”
I laughed. “He is ruled by his brain. But also his moral code, this really strongly-ingrained sense of right and wrong. Look at how he gave up his lucrative Wall Street job to come home and save the family farm. Look how he takes care of his dad, day and night. Look how he offered Elliott and me a place to stay because he didn’t want us staying at my mother’s shitty old house.”
“Even good guys have urges,” Cheyenne pointed out.
“But even if he had an urge around me,” I said, getting hot and bothered by the thought, “I get the feeling he thinks acting on it would be wrong.”
“Why would he think that?” Blair wondered.
I ticked off the reasons. “Because I’m his friend. Because I just got out of a terrible marriage. Because I’m a guest at his house.”
All of us were quiet a moment, and then Blair started to laugh. “I was a guest at Griffin’s house too. And he tried to be all chivalrous and well-behaved about it. He lasted one night.”
“But Griffin and Beckett are different,” Cheyenne said. “Griff always had that fuck-it, impulsive side to him. Beckett doesn’t.”
“Nope. He’s got no fuck-it side at all, at least not that he shows me.” I sighed, shaking my head. “But maybe I should be glad about that.”
“Why?” Bianca asked. “You’re two consenting adults. Can’t you just have some fun?”
“What if we cross the line just for fun and it’s a mistake?” I fretted. “Our friendship, which we’re just getting back, could suffer. It could even be ruined.”