I let out a dramatic sigh. “Now I’m disappointed.”
He gives me a long look. “You’re a horrible liar, Maddy.”
I grin, feeling the buzz of the alcohol taking full effect. “You know, it’s been a while since I was good at anything.”
He leans back, stretching and showing off his toned body beneath his suit. “I don’t believe that. I think you’re probably good at alotof things. You just don’t like to brag.”
“Ha,” I tip my head back, “Yeah, right.”
Beck holds my gaze for a moment and then downs the rest of his drink, leaving the empty glass on the bar. “I’ve got a room here for the night. You want to join me?”
My heart jumps into my throat.
That escalated quickly.
I know I should say no. For a second, I think this is the world’s worst mistake, and maybe it is, but maybe that’s exactlywhat I need. I look at him, at the way he’s smiling at me. Like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“Um, okay,” I say, voice steadier than I expect. “But only if you promise not to be a serial killer who’s going to murder me.”
He bursts into laughter and offers his arm. “Deal, no murder tonight.”
I slip my hand into the crook of his elbow. And it feels strangely safe.
Shit, I need to tell Riley what I’m doing.
As we walk toward the elevator, I dig my phone out and ignore the multiple messages and phone calls from Wes. I navigate clumsily to our text thread, drop a pin, and then type out a message.
Me:Staying here tonight. Don’t ask. I’ll tell you tomorrow.
I’m positive she’s going to freak out when she reads that.
The elevator ride is so quiet, except for the shitty background music. Beck pushes the button for the ninth floor, then leans against the far wall, looking at me, arms crossed. He doesn’t say a word. It should be awkward, but the silence iselectrifying.
I try to keep it cool, but the anticipation is too much.
“You’re very calm,” I finally blurt out. The words come out too loudly.
He shrugs, a smirk on his mouth. “You look like you could use a little calm right now. You’ve clearly had a bad night.”
The doors open before I can respond. His room is two doors from the end, and he walks ahead of me, checking to make sure I’m following.
I do, obviously. Even if a bit drunkenly.
The inside is the same as every hotel room—king bed, TV, mini bar—but the view from the window is all city lights, clusters of white and yellow blinking against the night. For a second, I stand in the doorway, uncertain what to do with my handsor the feeling that this could end even worse than the wedding reception did.
Beck kicks off his shoes and sits on the edge of the bed. He gestures for me to do the same, and I do, sinking into the mattress with a bounce. For a moment there’s silence, then we both start talking at the same time.
“You don’t have?—”
“Only if you?—”
We laugh, and I feel my face grow hot.
“Go ahead,” he nudges my arm with his shoulder. “You first.”
I take a deep breath, holding his gaze with a confidence I don’t feel. “It’s just that… you don’t have to be so nice.I mean, I know what this is.”
He looks at me for a few beats. “I think you do. But also, you’re not very good at hiding your feelings.”
