I OFFERED to help with the dishes, but Mr. Langley waved us off. “Go enjoy each other. I’ve got the dishes.”
“You sure?” Beckett asked.
He nodded. “Rory’s much better than the other girls you’ve brought around.” He chuckled. “I hope you’ll keep her.”
I hoped so too.
Beckett put his arm around my shoulders and squeezed. “I was thinking we’d go to the patio.”
“Sounds good,” his dad said. “I’m heading up to my room. I’m going to try and get my work done early so I can watch your game tomorrow night.” The hope that flickered across Beckett’s features was unmistakable.
“Yeah?”
Mr. Langley nodded. “Can’t miss your homecoming game.” Beckett grinned at him. “Thanks, Dad.”
His dad turned back to the dishes, but I gave Beckett an encouraging smile. Well, as big of a smile as I could manage knowing this was all coming to a head soon.
“You can go on out to the patio, Cupcake,” Beckett said, nodding toward the big glass door. “I have to grab something from my room.”
I searched his expression for a hint of what it could be, but Beckett was unreadable. “Sure.”
He dropped an easy kiss on my forehead. “I’ll be out there in a second.”
Mr. Langley called over his shoulder, “Just turn the knob on the right of the pit to get the fire going.”
“Okay,” I said and walked across the large living area. When I reached the patio, I slid the accordion glass door open and stepped into the crisp night air. I pulled my jacket tighter around me and bent to look for the knob. As soon as I twisted it, fire flared from the glass beads in the stone pit.
Heat and light spread on the patio, and I sat on one of the couches facing the city. It was romantic out here, especially in the dark with twinkle lights blanketing the black expanse below.
I steeled myself to tell Becket, although I still had no idea how to frame it. There was no good way to say, “I used you for a bet.”
The door slid open, and Beckett stepped onto the patio carrying a leather-bound book.
“What’s that?” I asked.
He handed it to me, and I realized it was a photo album. “Are these…?”
With a nod, he said, “From the pier. They turned out amazing. But then again, it was pretty easy with you as a model.”
Blushing, I opened the cover. The first two spots didn’t have photos from the shoot, but instead a handwritten note from Beckett and a photo of us from our night at Spike’s.
Cupcake,
I hope you know how beautiful you are in my eyes. Always. Beckett
I ran my finger over the note and smiled at him.
He nodded toward the book, encouraging me to turn the page.
Carefully, I lifted the edge to see photos of a beautiful curvy woman dressed in a pink silk gown. Her hair flew in the wind, and her eyes lit each photo with a light of their own. Best of all were her lips, standing out with a beautiful shade of lipstick, full and luscious.
My mouth fell open. “This is me?”
He grinned, nodding, and turned the page. Photo after photo featured me, posing against the gray ocean backdrop.
“These are amazing, Becks. You have so much talent.” He looked at his lap, then back at me. “You like them?”
“Yes,” I said emphatically. “I’ve never had anyone capture me like this. It’s always just another posed photo where they try to hide my double chin or mask my hips or only take the picture from my waist up to hide everything, but this…”
These photos worshipped my body. Highlighted it. Loved it.
I set the album down and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Thank you so much.” Tears stung my eyes, conflicted. Full of disgust for what I’d done and love for the boy who helped me see myself as I was.
“Anything for you, Cupcake.” His arms circled my waist, linking his fingers behind me.
A ball of emotions spun in my chest, growing like a puff of cotton candy. I couldn’t hold it all in, so I poured it out in a kiss. Our final kiss, I told myself.
I had to make it count. I ran my fingers through his hair and breathed in his scent. His hands moved under my jacket, working up to my shoulders and then back down, dangerously low over my hips.
I moved, straddling him on the chair, and he held me steady. Fire spread through every part of my body, engulfing and incinerating any hope I had left of withstanding what would come.
He groaned against my lips, and I moved down, dropping kisses over his neck, on to his collarbone, nipping every so often.
His fingers worked through my hair and tugged, bringing a moan to my own lips. I wanted him to pull harder, to rip the exquisite pain of pleasure through my body. I deserved every ounce of hurt that came my way. I just didn’t know I’d love it so much.
He gripped my hair and made me drop my head back so he could return the favor, scraping his teeth over my neck and then covering each raw spot with a kiss. I was putty in his hands, held firm at my hips and mane.
I fisted his shirt at his waist, holding on, because that was all there was to do while Beckett made my nerves explode with sensations I’d never felt before but longed for more of.
“It’s too…” Beckett gasped against my lips. “I need to…cool down.”
With all the heat building within me, I probably needed to slow down too, even if I wanted nothing more than to continue exploring the way he lit my cells on fire.
I moved away from him but ran my fingers over his chest, over the taut muscles of his stomach. I wanted to savor this moment, the idea that Beckett could be just as overwhelmed by these sensations as I was.
As I looked up into his smoky hazel eyes, at the heart and heat there, I wondered—was I brave enough to give this up? To shatter the fragile but powerful thing we were building together?
I couldn’t. Not now. Not without a plan.
It had to be right. I couldn’t lose him.
But time was running out, and I had to come up with something fast.
