The thought terrifies me, but I’m not being fair to any of us pretending like I don’t have strong feelings for him.
Feelings that are more than friendly.
I expect to be struck down for thinking such a thing, but it doesn’t happen.
“This is incredible, Stevie,” he says, holding up the rectangular frame I made him from dried flowers.
“It’s a door sign,” I explain in case it’s not clear.
Taking out his phone, he turns on the flashlight and shines it across the picture. “Do not disturb. Genius at work,” he reads. His eyes flare with warmth as he stares at me. “I love it. It will look perfect on my new office door.”
I’m glad it’s dark out so he can’t detect the flush staining my cheeks. It’s hard to buy something for a man who has everything he needs. A man who isn’t flashy despite his wealth.
“Open the other gift,” I say, retrieving the smaller box from the bag and giving it to him.
“Stevie, this is too much,” he says in a tone full of awe as he removes the silver and blue ballpoint Montblanc pen from the box.
“Shush. It’s not,” I say even though it cost me almost seven hundred bucks. To me, it was worth every penny because Beck’s presence in my life is priceless. I swivel it in his fingers. “Look, I had it personalized.” They only allow you to use thirteen letters, so it simply says ‘For Beck,’ but I’m hoping it’s the thought that counts. I considered inscribing his pen name instead, but this seemed more personal. More intimate.
His gorgeous eyes pin me in place as he leans in close. So many emotions flit across his face as he maintains eye contact while brushing his lips against my cheek, blazing a trail in every place he touches. “This is the perfect gift, Stevie.” He pulls back a little, but our faces are still super close, and our knees are touching. “I love it. I love it so much.” It looks like he wants to say more, but he’s purposely holding himself back.
“Every writer deserves a special pen.” It’s a miracle I get the words out, because with the way he’s looking at me now, I’m liable to melt into a puddle at his feet. He’s looking at me like, like…he loves me.
Butterflies dance in my chest as adrenaline kicks in, and my pulse throbs in my neck. Beck’s eyes drift to my mouth, and I stop breathing for a second. He breaks the connection first, and I release the breath I was holding. My heart is racing behind my rib cage, my palms feel sweaty, and my tummy is in delicious knots.
I know what I’m feeling, and I’m scared. But I’m more scared of not feeling this ever again.
Beck slides a long rectangular gift, wrapped in festive packaging, from his back pocket and hands it to me. “This is for you. I hope you like it.”
I tear eagerly at the wrapping, scrunching the paper into a ball and stuffing it in my coat pocket before opening the box. A gasp leaves my mouth as I lift the stunning silver charm bracelet from inside. “This is beautiful, Beck.” Emotion pricks the backs of my eyes as I look between him and the bracelet.
“I left room so you could add more charms in the future,” he explains as I examine the objects.
There is a book, a poppy, a picture frame, a little group of people, a barn, a bar of chocolate, a peach, and…a guitar. Tears swim in my eyes. How can this man be so wonderful? I know he has strong feelings for me, yet he never wants me to forget Garrick.
“Let me put it on,” he says, taking my right wrist in his hands.
“Not there,” I whisper. “On this one.” I tap my left wrist where the tattoo I got with Garrick is inked on my skin.
I want to wear Beck’s bracelet on the same wrist.
This way, I get to keep both of them close.
Beck peers deep into my eyes, and my chest heaves as he tries to extract my thoughts with a penetrating gaze. After a few silent beats, he nods, putting my right wrist down and lifting my left one. His thumb sweeps reverently over the Celtic shield knot, and my heart swells to bursting point. He is so careful as he secures the bracelet around my wrist, and my skin is on fire from his worshiping touch.
I’m awash with want and need.
Every part of me is fully alive for the first time in a long time, and I couldn’t stop this even if I wanted to.
Which I don’t.
The remaining barriers around my heart crumple, and I can’t claim to fully know what I’m doing, but I know what I want in this moment, and I’m done holding back. Nothing that feels this good and so right can be bad or wrong.
I deserve to be happy, and Beck is my happy place.
I refuse to feel anything but love and desire in this moment.
“Beck,” I whisper in a voice strangled with potent emotion, pulling him closer to me until our noses are touching and our breaths are mingling.
