Jensen
It’s officially been one week since moving into Beck’s place, and precisely four days, twelve hours, and thirty-seven minutes since our roommates-with-benefits conversation.
I keep going around in circles because one huge part of me wants to do it. Get all our built-up chemistry and sexual tension out. But then I remember how Beck went from being the guy that I found a little annoying and exhausting to a man that I found funny, caring, albeit still a little annoying, but dammit, he’s made me like that about him now.
How he has the capability to give serious conversations the depth and attention they require then flip and make me laugh and blush is something I don’t think I’ll ever understand.
I came to Boston with the intention of not looking for a relationship at all. The rush to find someone and be with them forever was a trap I fell into before. I don’t need the pressures a relationship adds right now. I’m allowed to be in my twenties and not be looking for forever right now.
I wasn’t even looking for someone I could fall for. But then, along comes Beck, he really hit that plan out of the ball park.
I can’t call my sister or Lucie to talk about this, so I’ve been stuck playing my own devil’s advocate, and the only argument I can make for us doing this friends-with-benefits deal is that maybe it would actually work to help me get past my feelings for him.
He was very clear that he didn’t want a relationship, granted he didn’t exactly tell me why, but I could cling to that…possibly. Not to mention, I’ll move out eventually, then when his season starts back up, he’ll be gone all the time with games—really, the deal has potential to fizzle out on its own.
But if it somehow goes insanely wrong, I run the risk of losing the friendships I have now and end up homeless.
However, that feels a bit like a trauma response rooted in me from my ex. With how mature Beck’s been about it this week, I’ve moved this reasoning down a bit on my con list.
Looking out Beck’s sliding doors, Dottie lets out a little grumble at my feet. We officially have snow, and she hates it. Between the heavy salt and icy slush, it absolutely tears up her paws if we do long runs.
Squatting down next to her, I scratch at her head and behind her ears. “Sorry, girl. On the bright side, Beck’s got a great dog park across the street. You got some energy out there this morning, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, she did,” Beck says, coming up behind us. He’s wearing these jeans I know immediately are Levi’s with the way they fit him perfectly. His tan sweater looks so damn comfy that I’m not sure if I want to be wrapped up in it or him wearing it.
He squats down next to me causing Dottie to shift her whole body around so she can get proper attention from him.Such a traitor.
“You ran laps around snooty Mr. Peterson’s doodle, didn’t you?” Beck ups his tone, which gets Dottie fired up right away.She’s wiggling her whole body as he eggs her on until she starts barking.
Pushing back up, I pinch the bridge of my nose. These two.
“Okay, okay.” Beck stands back up, now putting his attention on me. “You ready to go?”
“Yep,” I say on an exhale.
We’re heading out to meet Reagan at the storefront so I can make a final decision on whether I want to go into business with her or start searching for other shops hiring in the area.
Beck slides a small bit of my hair behind my ear. “You only have to be physically ready. Mentally and emotionally can come later.”
That right there has my brain screamingbenefits it is, and my heart begging me to put up walls.
Beck’s hand doesn’t linger; he simply smiles at me. “Come on, let’s go check the place out.”
“Wait, tell me again, why am I allowing you to come with me today?”
“Because you’re obsessed with me?”
“Beck,” I groan, rubbing the back of my neck. I swear he’s giving me a crick.
“Because I’m obsessed with you?” he pesters again. My pointed glare only seems to make his smile grow. “I won’t bring up me paying for everything. I’m a completely neutral party who has zero interest in seeing you do something you love.”
Well, that’s a little more embellished than our agreement, but really, I shouldn’t expect anything different from him.
“Great, let’s go.” I nod and start toward the front door where Beck is ever the gentleman helping me with my coat then getting the doors.
When he gestures for me to lead us anywhere, his hand finds the small of my back—again with the touches, they’re all small and soft, yet they send waves of warmth through me each time.
“Hey, this place isn’t too far off from our running spot,” Beck says as we walk up the brick steps. “That’s definitely going in the plus column.”
