by Nell Iris
“Foxtrot-Uniform-Charlie-Kilo,” I muttered. How could I have forgotten that I’d finished it off that morning? This was not my day.
With slumping shoulders, I shuffled back to my desk. After staring at my screen for another minute or two, I gave up and opened Facebook.
“Beckett Cooper,” I muttered as I typed his name into the search bar. He was the first result and I clicked it.
He looked adorable in his profile picture. A tiny smile played on his lips and he was formally dressed as if the photo had been taken for work. I missed the beanie though. Formal Becket was handsome. Casual Beckett was cute and sweet and snuggly and hot and…
I clicked the Add Friend button.
And swallowed.
No going back now.
Five seconds later—or maybe ten—he accepted.
“Woot!” I did a little butt wiggle on the chair and when Messenger announced I had a new message, I wiggled even more.
The wiggle came to an abrupt halt though when I realized it was only the standard “you are now connected on Messenger” alert, which had never been more annoying than right now.
But as I grumbled over stupid automatic functions, an actual message popped up.
Beckett: Hi!
The single word was followed by a smiley emoji, and it made my face break out a wide, happy smile.
Levi: Hey! What’s up?
I stared impatiently at the three dots as he was writing back to me.
Beckett: Nothing much. Considered going for a walk but it’s too cold. I watched all the Harry Potter movies. It’s too early to sleep. My life is so exciting! You?
Levi: I’m trying to work, but can’t concentrate.
Beckett: At this hour?
Levi: Yes. Mom’s sick. I’ve been babysitting for two days. I’m behind.
Beckett: Oh no. What’s wrong with her?
Levi: Cold and a fever. She’s feeling better now, so hopefully, I can work tomorrow. I have a deadline.
Beckett: I hope she feels better soon. Is there anything I can do to help?
Levi: Sure. You know how to create a webshop?
Beckett: Um. No. Sorry.
Levi: Thanks anyway. I appreciate the offer.
Beckett: I thought about something. But I don’t want you to feel obliged to say yes if you don’t want to.
That statement made me sit up straight and pay attention.
Levi: Spit it out. I promise to not agree to something I don’t like. I followed it up with a smiley face.
He wrote for a long time and when his message finally popped up on my screen it was much shorter than I’d expected as though he’d typed and deleted several times before sending.
Beckett: I could help with your accounting if you’re interested. It shouldn’t take long.
My mouth fell open. “Are you kidding me? Oh man, that would be so awesome.” My happy holler echoed in the empty room. I wanted to accept. I really wasn’t a numbers guy. Not that I was bad at math, but as soon as the numbers were associated with dollars and cents, my eyes glazed over, and I’d rather be frozen in carbonite for the rest of my life.
I can’t ask you to do that, was what I actually wrote and a large part of me wanted him to insist.
Beckett: You didn’t ask. I offered.
Levi: Are you serious right now?
Beckett: I am.
Levi: Why would you offer something that valuable to me?
Beckett: Because you always help everyone else. It’s time someone has your back.
My hand flew to my mouth and I leaned forward until my forehead rested on the desk. My lower lip wobbled under my palm and I had to swallow repeatedly. That was probably the nicest thing someone had ever said to me. And it came from a fabulous person. It was too much. I had to breathe.
So I did. Deep breath in through the nose. Exhale through the mouth. I kept doing it until a sound from my computer alerted me to a new message. I looked up.
Beckett: Did I freak you out?
“No!” I started typing, my fingers flying over the keyboard.
Levi: I accept! If you’re really really really serious, I accept. I can’t thank you enough!
Beckett: No need to thank me. It would my pleasure, I actually enjoy my job.
Levi: I do need to thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.
Beckett: Okay. Then you’re welcome.
Levi: When can you start?
Beckett: Anytime.
“Don’t say now, don’t say now, don’t say—” I muttered as my fingers typed…
Levi: Now?
I slapped my palm against my forehead. I was such an idiot. But at least I had the good sense to add a winky face, so he could take it as a joke if he wanted.
He didn’t.
Beckett: Sure. I can come over. I can pick it up and look it over at home?
He would drive thirty minutes at—I glanced at the clock on my computer—ten past eight at night? Just to pick up some accounting stuff as a favor for a friend? Or a brother’s friend even? I should tell him no. Suggest we do it another day. I nodded and started typing but was interrupted.
Beckett: Tax season is approaching after all. Prognosis is it’s going to be particularly cold this year.
I stared at his message followed by a laughing emoji. Holy cow! Just when I thought he couldn’t get any cuter, he told a dorky accountant joke. Was this how it felt to swoon?
Levi: I was joking when I said I wanted you to start now, you realized that, right?
Beckett: I did.
And he still offered to come? Maybe I’ll keep him forever and lock him up so he couldn’t leave my house ever again. “Ewwww, Levi Byrne, that was not romantic, you creep.”
Levi: In that case, please come over.
Beckett: Great. I’ll be there right away. Bye.
Amazingly, I got a whole lot of work done in the forty-five minutes it took him to arrive. It was as if my brain relaxed now that it knew I was about to meet him. When he knocked, I jumped off my chair, rushed across the floor, and yanked open the door.
And was met by a sight for sore eyes. Beckett. In his beanie. Holding out a thermos mug with the Starbucks logo on it. “I thought you might like some real coffee?” he said with a shy smile.
I wanted to kiss him. Throw myself at him and hug the stuffing out of him for being so considerate. My grip on the door knob tightened so I wouldn’t do any of those things. Instead, I stepped to the side to let him in, and when I closed the door behind him, I asked, “Did you read my mind?” I accepted the thermos mug, unscrewed the lid, and inhaled the bitter aroma of the world’s most divine beverage.
“Um, no?” He toed off his shoes and shrugged out of his jacket, revealing a knitted sweater in the Gryffindor colors. Gaah, he was so adorable I couldn’t stand it.
I forced myself to stop staring at him before I would swallow my tongue. “Let me show you something.” I walked to the kitchenette and indicated for him to follow. “See that?” I pointed to the coffee tin.
“Yeah.”
“It’s empty. It’s the embodiment of a tragedy. So, when I needed my evening fix, I couldn’t have it.”
“Sounds very…traumatic.”
I could tell he was trying his hardest not to laugh at me. I would have let him get away with it. I had coffee.
We sat at the desk and chatted for a few minutes before we got down to business.
I grabbed the box tucked away under my bed and dropped it in his lap. “Enjoy yourself.”
He opened the lid, peered down on the contents, and his mouth fell open. He put the box on the floor, took out the thick ledger, and as I sipped my coffee, I watched him thumb through it.
“Shit, Levi. You’re very old-school for a web designer and programmer. I didn’t expect…this.” He gestured to the book.
I knew everyone expected me of all people to use a fancy accounting program, but I needed to write stuff down on paper for it to make sense to me. I hid behind the mug and muttered, “I
know.”
“It’s okay.” His eyes shone with honesty and before I knew it, words spilled out of my mouth.
“I’m an idiot when it comes to these things. I tried doing it digitally, but the numbers just don’t make sense. And I’m very aware of the irony that I could probably create a program that would be better than a lot of what’s available out there but freeze whenever I try to use it. One of the elders at church, who helps my parents with their taxes, gave me this and it’s the only thing that’s ever worked.”
“Hey.” He leaned closer to me and rested his hand on top of mine that clasped the mug in a tight grip. “It really is okay. It was done this way for hundreds of years.”
“I feel so stupid.”
“You’re anything but stupid, Levi. Do you think I’m stupid?”
“No! Why would you ask that?”
“I could never do what you do. That doesn’t mean I’m stupid. It means I’m better at other things. Just like you.”
His words and his warm hand untangled the knot in my stomach. “Thank you,” I whispered. I wanted to say more. To tell him how much his kindness and generosity meant to me, but I didn’t have good enough words. Instead, I repeated my thanks and hoped he could read the sincerity in my eyes.
We sat in companionable silence for a few more minutes—his hand never leaving mine—before he put back my old-school ledger in the box with the receipts, gave me a quick, one-armed hug and said goodbye.
The warmth of his hand on top of mine lingered for the rest of the evening.
Chapter 5: Beckett
Pisces (February 19—March 20)
Jupiter’s ongoing presence in your sector makes you unusually bold and adventurous when it comes to kickstarting a new career or choosing an exciting hobby. That means today is an excellent day to quit your boring day job and apply for a position as a go-go boy at the local club or maybe taking up sculpting. Think of all the money you’ll save by making your own dildos.
* * * *
I’d been staring at the frozen food section in the grocery store for ages, too exhausted to decide what to nuke for dinner. It had been one of those days at work when everything had gone wrong from the minute I’d stepped my foot in the door. By noon I’d contemplated quitting my job. When I finally was let out of the building the thought of bludgeoning everyone to death with the tax code had crossed my mind.
A granola bar was all I’d eaten all day and I’d passed the hangry state somewhere around four. Now, three hours later, I was ready to eat this sad pizza right from the freezer. Box and all. I huffed out a tired sigh. Even warming pathetic, frozen food seemed like too much work, but the only fast food place close to my building made the crappiest Chinese in the history of food. It was a wonder they hadn’t been forced to close down ages ago. Maybe I should just scarf down another granola bar and call it a night?
“Beckett?”
The voice made my stomach jump and the corners of my mouth turn up even though just a moment before I’d been so tired I’d thought I’d never smile again.
“Levi. Hi!” Stubble covered his face and he approached me with a spring in his step and a happy grin that made my heart go pitter-patter. Oh gawd, he was cuter than ever. “What are you doing here?” I asked.
He threw his arm around my neck in a quick, one-armed hug. The heat of his body penetrated my cold soul, but before I had time to hug him back, he let go of me and stepped back. I missed his warmth instantly. I wanted more. I wanted to bury my nose in the crook of his neck and just stay there until this crappy day was gone and forgotten. Feel his hands on my back and his soothing breaths in my ear.
Shit. I swallowed around a lump that appeared in my throat. I had it bad.
“I’m here to get some celebratory ice cream. I finished my project on time, so I thought I’d treat myself.”
“Great job. Congratulations!”
“Thanks!” His eyes sparkled at me. “Are you getting ice cream, too?”
“No. I was trying to figure out what to eat for dinner. I can’t decide what sounds the least disgusting,” I said and picked up two depressing looking boxes. “Lasagna or pepperoni pizza?”
Levi drew his eyebrows together and then took both from me and threw them back into the freezer. “You can’t eat crap like that. It’s no good for you.”
“I know,” I sighed. “But my fridge is empty and I’m too tired to both shop for groceries and cook.”
He looked at me then, swept his gaze from head to toe. “You look exhausted. I’m sorry I didn’t notice earlier.”
“It’s fine.”
With an unconvinced look, he asked, “Are you all right?”
“Yeah. Just tired. I had a terrible day at work.”
“I know all about those.” He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, letting his eyes flick over my face, taking in what I was sure was tired lines around my eyes and a mouth trying its best to smile. “I have an idea,” he said after a few moments. “What if I make you dinner? I’d need to borrow your kitchen of course, but if you feel like a homecooked meal…I’m your guy.”
I drew a breath and held it. Blinked. “Are you serious?” I asked in a whooshing exhale.
“I am.”
“But what about your ice cream celebration?”
“It can wait.”
His kindness coupled with my fatigue choked me up. Half a second from bursting into tears, I asked, “Why?”
“Because you look like you need someone to take care of you.”
I couldn’t help it then. A tear escaped. I turned my face away and squeezed my eyes shut. A part of me wanted to turn and run away, hide my stupid sensitivity from him and not be the guy who cries in the grocery store aisle. But another part knew he could be trusted and even if I broke down completely here, he wouldn’t make fun of me.
“Then yes. Thank you,” I choked out.
Gentle fingers plucked the shopping basket from my grip. His other hand found its way to my nape and caressed me for a second. It was just a brief touch, but it gave me the strength to wipe away the tear and look at him again.
“Let’s go. I know just the thing.”
I trailed after him through the store, like a little kid following his mama, as he took over the shopping. It only took a few minutes to pick up what he wanted, pay, and put the bag in the back of his car.
“Are you okay to drive?” Levi asked.
“Yeah. It’s not far.”
He nodded. “I’ll see you at your place then.”
Ten minutes later, he was working away in my kitchen. I wasn’t allowed to help; he’d ordered me to change out of my suit, made me a cup of hot cocoa, and pointed me to a chair in the breakfast nook, where I watched him as he worked efficiently. I loved having him in my kitchen. His presence made my apartment feel like a real home.
“What are you making?” I asked.
“Just a simple pasta with cherry tomatoes. It’s quick. Which is necessary when the Hell Sisters are hungry, and we only have a few minutes before they get really loud and obnoxious.”
“Are they really that terrible?” I chuckled
“Yes and no,” he said with a shrug. “Most of the time they listen to me and Luke. And Dad. But that’s pretty much it. They’re worse than all the rest of us combined. Don’t tell her I told you this, but Mom doesn’t seem to have the same energy for small children these days. Can’t really say I blame her. Eleven kids are a lot.”
“It is.” My own mother barely had time for one between all her charity lunches. Her giving heart had never extended to her own son.
“They’re sweethearts really. They just need to calm down. I hope school will help.”
I hummed in reply, unable to take my eyes off him as he chopped, stirred, and sautéed. He was fast and efficient, like a real chef. Made it seem effortless. He chatted and laughed and before I knew what had happened, he put a steaming plate before me, and finished it off with a sprinkle of parmesan cheese.
It was spaghetti and blist
ered cherry tomatoes and garlic and vibrant green basil. I inhaled, and a little piece of heaven found its way into my nose. My stomach growled in appreciation and we looked at each other and broke out laughing at how loud it was.
“You’d better feed that beast before it’s too late,” he said with a wink, and I did.
The flavors exploded on my tongue: the sweetness of the tomatoes, the saltiness of the cheese, and the slight pepperiness of the basil made me want to cry with happiness. “This is so much better than frozen pizza,” I said with my mouth full of pasta.
“I’d sure hope so,” he said and swirled his spaghetti around the fork and ate in a far more civilized manner than I.
“Seriously, how did you even manage this in less than thirty minutes?”
“Lots and lots of practice.”
He beamed with happiness as I cleared my plate in an embarrassingly short time and hurried to give me a second helping.
“I didn’t have time to eat lunch,” I explained in an attempt to make myself seem like less of a gluttonous barbarian.
“Why not?
“It’s a long story.”
“Tell me, I want to hear.”
So, I told him about my day. About the colleague who had emailed the boss at ten PM the night before, saying she wasn’t coming back. How the rest of us had been forced to pick up her slack. How the more we looked, the bigger mess we found.
“It’ll take us forever to clean up after her,” I finished.
He scowled. “Wow, what a Bravo-India-Tango-Charlie-Hotel!”
My mouth dropped open. “What did you say?”
“Eh, we’re not allowed to cuss at home. So, I, uh…” His voice trailed off and he averted his eyes.
Understanding dawned on me. “So…you kind of spell it out?”
Levi nodded.
Oh dear, sweet, everything that was holy. Just when I didn’t think he could get any cuter. “Whiskey-Oscar-Whiskey,” I said, and he burst out laughing.
His hand flew to his chest. “You’re a dork,” he said, eyes beaming with affection.
“Hey, you’re the one who started it.”
