“Sorry, man. I told her not to move! She’s going to have to come back to get that fixed!” Zack said.
“Oh, no. Don’t worry. Yeah, I’ll get her to come back. It might just take a little time is all!” I lied. I knew we were on a flight out first thing tomorrow morning. And I knew by the look on Beck’s face that she wouldn’t give this a second chance.
As I walked out of the parlor, I couldn’t help but remember taking Beck to crash a wedding. She was absolutely horrified. And when I brought her camping, it was no different. I didn’t bother taking the man’s business card on the way out. I was too deep in thought. What made this girl so afraid of what she really wanted? I found Beck pacing the parking lot. I grabbed her tight, pulling her into my embrace. She trembled against my body and sobbed. “Shhh.”
“I’m so embarrassed!” Beck said when she had settled enough.
“Shhh, it’s OK.” I stroked the back of her head and pondered over what was holding her back. But perhaps the most important question wasn’t what was holding her back, but what propelled one forward. “I thought you wanted to get a tattoo. It was on your list!” I said.
“My list? Why do you keep saying that?” Beck pulled away. Her eyes red and laced with confusion.
Shit. “I mean, you said you’d always wanted to get one.” I looked away and hoped the moment would pass.
“I did! I thought I did. I don’t know what’s wrong with me! I have this bad habit of self-destruction. It’s like I get so close to the thing I want, and then I find a way to destroy it,” Beck echoed. I remembered her saying it two decades ago. It would not be an easy fix, but we had the time to work on it. I wanted that for her.
“Well, let’s take a look and see what you got,” I said as I reached out for the hem of Beck’s top. She helped guide her shirt up to her ribcage. My brows peeked, and I hid my mouth behind my hand.
“What? Is it bad?” Beck asked, unable to see.
I tried to tell her it wasn’t. I tried! But it just came out as full-blown manic laughter that busted the seams of my cupped fingers. What I saw could only be described as a . . . comma. A comma that was made by a passenger in flight. One that hit turbulence.
“Oh my god, Easton! Is it that bad?” Beck tried to manipulate her body. Bend and fold in every which way to see it. She couldn’t. I spun around to gather myself but ultimately folded in half, bracing my hands on my knees. I wanted to get Beck back for making me jump off the skyscraper alone, but the poor girl just couldn’t help doing it to herself. And I couldn’t help but laugh at her mishaps. I’d probably laughed more in the last two days than I had throughout the whole of this very life. I prayed Beck would never grow out of it. Because her lack of grace might have been my favorite thing about her.
“What the hell is that?!” Beck squawked as she held her cell phone out to her side.
“Congratulations! It’s a twig!” I said. Beck lifted her head, but her jaw remained on the floor.
Beck and I finished the day at the drug store, getting her a salve and bandage for her skewed comma tattoo before heading back to the hotel. She didn’t seem overly concerned about checking on Nolan, and I didn’t blame her. I’d had the best day with her. It was epic, really. And I took pleasure in knowing that every time she would see the ink on her bare body, she’d think of me. Maybe not favorably, as I did laugh pretty hard at her in the parking lot, but all the same, she’d think of me.
That night I could hear her and Nolan fighting from across the hall. His tone was loud and accusatory. Hers high-pitched and sharp. And I couldn't imagine a situation in which I felt so helpless. I sat with my back against the front door of my room and listened to the rise and fall of their argument. I couldn’t make out what they were yelling, but I guessed it either had to do with Payton or me. Perhaps both.
I wanted them to break up but not like this. Not with pain. I never wanted that for Beck. I ran my hands through my hair, wishing it all away. Dreaming of a time when Beck and I were together again and there were no more secrets. And no more Nolans.
Irishman William’s advice rung vividly in my head. Neither qualified nor founded but still solid. I weighed the possibilities of telling Beck the truth. Her past life, who I really was, and what it really meant to be a Tethered Soul. And had I not had so much to lose, it might be worth it. But for now, when I still had the smallest chance to be with her, I had to hold off. Save it for a time when there was no going back, and I was all out of hope. There would be a time. That I was sure of, but the time was not now. I steepled my fingers under my chin, thinking about how afraid she was to jump. I couldn’t imagine what learning of her immortality might do to her.
Having grown tired of listening to the muffled dispute between Beck and Nolan, I opened my door and slid the lock in between the door jamb. I hoped that Beck would see it as an invitation if she didn’t want to stay the night with Nolan after their fight. I left the bathroom light on for her and crawled into bed. I closed my eyes, exhausted from the emotional distress of the weekend, and drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 15
It was some time into the night when I dreamed of Beck. Her warm body against mine. The scent of coconut-infused hair curling around me like a vice. So real I questioned if I was asleep at all. When my dream slipped away and Beck remained tangled in my arms, my mind raced to gather the fragmented pieces. My eyes fluttered as I looked around the darkness of the room, and I remembered I’d left the door open for Beck. The small light peeking out from the bathroom cast a warm glow on her cheekbone and illuminated her resting eyes.
I thought long and hard about what she needed in that moment, and as much as I wanted to close the distance between her lips and mine, I knew she was a lifetime behind me. Unlike me, who held my spouse in bed, she was lying with a friend. A neighbor.
A single teardrop fell upon my hand. I squeezed her a little tighter but said nothing. Sometimes, pain just needed to be felt. And it helped to have someone by your side. This wasn’t the time for questions. I knew that much. I nestled my forehead into the back of her head and tried my damn hardest to go anywhere but the field of wet grass on the day we wed.
I woke before my alarm went off. It was hard not to with Beck on my arm. Like waking up to gifts early Christmas morning, I was too excited for sleep. I watched her eyes twitch in the early morning light before attempting to withdraw my arm. She rolled off of it, still sound asleep. Once free, I padded barefoot to the restroom. As quietly as I could, I began packing for the airport. I knew Beck would have to do the same, but I dreaded waking her up and sending her back to Nolan’s room to pack her belongings. It hardly seemed fair.
My ears perked when I heard a faint vibration. I opened the bathroom door to hear the sound magnify and Beck stirring in bed. Her phone rested on top of her bag, and I nearly tripped over her suitcase in my pursuit of it. Smart girl. She must have packed last night. I grasped her phone to silence it but not before seeing the dozens of text messages left unread by Nolan. My eyes landed on words like fault, and Easton.
“Was that my phone? What time is it?” Beck murmured.
I spun around with her phone in my hand, trying not to look suspicious. “Sorry, I was just trying to silence it. Are you OK?” I asked.
Beck ran her hands through her tangled hair and squinted into the light. She said nothing. I brought her the phone and sat at the foot of the bed while she paged through her texts. A moment later, she tossed her phone onto the fluff of the hotel comforter, shaking her head.
“Nolan hooked up with Payton,” Beck said.
“I’m sorry.”
“He thinks I have a thing for you. He said it was my fault,” Beck said, watching her fingers intertwine.
I swallowed. Afraid of what she might say next.
But when nothing else came, I had to ask. “Do you? Have a thing for me?” I regretted it the moment I said it. The timing was off. Her mood was off. I looked down to my lap, as I could see Beck shake her head in my peripheral vision. I wi
shed I had been more patient. The silence stretched between us, and though she was near, I felt our distance grow.
“You are so . . . infuriating! You waltz into my life after all these years, and I don’t see where you fit in. I don’t know where you belong in my life because I already have a best friend, and I already have a boyfriend. Had a boyfriend. Yet there’s just something about you. About us. And I don’t understand it. So, if you have to know if I have a thing for you . . .” Beck paused. She was talking herself out of what she really wanted. Her fear of being loved was swallowing her whole, and it was so loud, I could almost hear the turmoil between her ears.
“Beck, you deserve a life with no regrets. If I had to guess, you have a few from this weekend. Don’t make another one. Tell me. Tell me how you really feel,” I pleaded.
I could tell I struck a chord with her when tears filled her eyes. “I’d be lying if I told you there wasn’t a piece of me that was drawn to you.”
My heart pounded, and my hands balled into fists filled with the bed’s comforter. Through clenched teeth, I asked what I knew I shouldn’t: “How big is the piece, Beck?”
Her face was devoid of color. Whatever it was, I’d hit it on the head.
“I don’t know,” Beck whispered as tears streamed down her cheeks.
My lungs expanded, and I knew not to push further. I threw my head back and closed my eyes, basking in the small confession she had made. She didn’t know how much yet, but she knew that some part of us belonged to one another. There was only one problem. Why did she look so afraid? I released my white-knuckled grip of the bedding and raked my hands through my hair. “OK, well we don’t have to have it all figured out now. We can figure this out together.” Concern filled the empty spaces in my mind until I could hardly think straight.
“I can’t—”
My cell phone alarm chimed, loud and intrusive. I jumped to turn it off, but by the time I returned, the window of honesty had closed. The emotion that filled Beck’s eyes was now dulled. Her walls were back up, and her feelings were hidden deep inside. I was left with more questions than answers. I should have felt like I had just won the lottery, but I felt no such victory.
“We can’t be late for our flight.” Beck threw off the blanket and bolted to the restroom, promptly shutting the door behind her. I let her be while I drowned in my fears. I gathered what little clothing I had and threw it into my suitcase. Then I picked up my laptop. It was when I opened my backpack to place it inside that I saw Beck’s birthday gift. I stilled, not knowing if I should give it to her or not. I was almost positive the moment had passed. Several of them over the span of the weekend would have been preferable to this one. I set my laptop down and took the small bag out of my backpack. Reaching inside, I pulled out the small box that held the crystal dragonfly.
As soon as I saw the green wings, I felt the need to give it to her in this imperfect moment. A piece of me rang through my ears, swirling inside me—a song of hope. I clenched the tiny box to my chest and spun around with the determination to give it to Beck and the need for her to remember. It wasn’t the perfect time, but the perfect time may never come for us. It had to be now. I knocked on the bathroom door.
“Yeah?” Beck asked.
“I have something for you.” I placed my palm on the door jamb and leaned into it. Beck opened the door slowly. Her eyes found the tiny box for a moment before lifting to meet mine. “Here. It’s your birthday gift.”
“You didn’t have to get me a—”
“I know. But I saw it, and it reminded me of you.”
Beck opened the box. Nerves crawled under my skin like an army of ants, and I wanted to squirm. I crossed my arms over my chest and watched her intently. The green-bodied dragonfly emerged from the box and sparkled in Beck’s hands. Her eyes, as green as the emerald wings, were transfixed on the gift. I couldn’t tell how she felt about it. The seconds ticked on, and I felt more restless by her silence as the time passed.
What seemed like an eternity later, Beck lifted her gaze to meet mine, and I could see the recognition behind her puffy eyes.
Both of us jumped when a thunderous knock rapped against the hotel door, breaking the moment I had waited twenty-one years for.
“Time to go!” James yelled.
“Do you think Becca is in there with him?” Payton asked.
“Well she’s not with Nolan,” Brooklyn said.
Beck pushed past me, hand clasped around the dragonfly. She grabbed her suitcase and her bag, and I nearly jumped to get out of her path. She swung the door open. “Hi! You guys all ready?” Beck asked in a tone that I could only describe as the opposite. The opposite of everything she’d just conveyed with her eyes. The opposite of everything she felt when she held the crystal in her hand. Was this her plan? Were we just going to pretend this didn’t happen?
I shoved my laptop into my backpack, a little more recklessly than I intended, and followed Beck out of the room with my suitcase in tow. James wagged his eyebrows at me and elbowed me in the ribs as the girls whispered a few feet down the hall. Nolan appeared in his doorjamb adjacent to mine, and the air shifted once again. For an instant, I thought he was going to say something. But it never came. The bags under his eyes said he’d had a sleepless night. James was good at diffusing and sucked Nolan into a story about a girl he met at the bar almost immediately. I dragged behind the group, lost in thought.
Beck kept her distance from both Nolan and me. She even worked hard at avoiding eye contact. I wished I could say the same for Payton and Brooklyn; they wouldn’t stop staring. I wondered how much Beck was telling them. How much more they knew than I did. Beck knew she had feelings for me—that much was clear—but she didn’t yet feel comfortable opening up to me. And if she couldn’t talk to me, then it was possible that I would become the thing that she wanted but wouldn’t allow herself to have. I’d essentially be the freefall she was too afraid of. Or the tattooed twig. I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t be another failure in her life.
While waiting to board the plane, Brooklyn texted me from where she sat only one row away.
Do you want to sit with Beck on the flight home? I could sit with the guys.
It was a small act of kindness, but it meant the world to me.
You’re the best!
When it was time to board the flight, Brooklyn positioned herself just behind James and Nolan. I trailed far behind the group, pretending to be consumed with e-mails on my phone. It wasn’t all a lie. The real estate agent, Tina, had messaged me saying I was in escrow and there was an opportunity to rent before the purchase was complete. I’d be going home to my very own brown shag carpet. Brooklyn sat in the row with the guys, and when it was my turn to take a seat, the only one open was next to Payton, who was currently trying to get Brooklyn to sit in the open seat.
Brooklyn winked at me when I passed by, and I tried to hide my smile. James was still entertaining Nolan with nonstop chatter.
“Brooklyn, sit here!” Payton said. Heat crept over my face as I looked to Brooklyn. She placed a set of earbuds in, pretending not to hear. I pushed my suitcase overhead and Payton moved her purse out of my seat. By the time I had my backpack tucked under the seat before me and my seatbelt fastened, the row had turned ice cold. Beck stared out the window, and I wanted to reach out and take her hand. I would have if Payton wasn’t in the middle of us.
It wasn’t long after takeoff that Payton stuffed earbuds in her ears and closed her eyes. I tore off a piece of my napkin and chucked it at Beck. It hit the side of her head that drew a curtain between us. She patted the side of her head before pulling the balled-up napkin from her strands. She unraveled it, flipped it over, set it down, and looked back to the window. I did it again. She unfolded the napkin, then refused to look at me.
I found a pen in my backpack and took what was left of my napkin under my drink. Realizing I never told her how I felt, I knew I had to convey it somehow. But how do you tell the woman you love the depth of your
feelings? How would I squeeze it onto half a napkin? I bit at the back of the pen, running it over my teeth.
When the idea came to me, I set pen to paper. I drew a small circle and labeled it “My piece.” Then I drew the same thing again but labeled it “Your piece.” Then I connected the two circles to make an infinity symbol. The drawing wasn’t great, but it was still better than her tattoo, and she’d paid for that. I wadded up the napkin and chucked it square at her forehead. This time she looked at me with a frown. Was it wrong that I enjoyed her aggravation nearly as much as her laughter? But when she opened up the napkin and studied the drawing, her eyes took on a fresh look. And this one I liked the most.
Chapter 16
In need of a bed, I went to the hotel that night. I was tired from Sin City, and I wasn’t yet ready to face the smell of my new home. Plus, I hadn’t gotten the keys from Tina yet. All I wanted was a hot shower. Scorching hot. Then, a night’s sleep that stripped me of my fears and breathed new hope into me. I wanted to wake with the morning sunlight and stretch my arms wide, thinking I’ve got this!
I showered in the searing water, which was enough to melt away my negative thinking and send it straight down the drain. Then, I sent Tina a brief e-mail about picking up the keys the next morning. I held my phone in my hand, wanting very much to text Beck but not knowing what to say. If only she had accidentally told everyone I was her boyfriend, this would be so much easier. But the truth was, she didn’t need me this time. No, this time . . . I needed her.
The Second Life of Everly Beck: The Tethered Soul Series Book 2 Page 11
