What the actual hell?
He stands up, brushes imaginary dust off his thigh, and shakes the other guy’s hand like he didn’t just completely embarrass him. He walks off the mat like it’s any other day.
The whole time, his eyes are on mine. He crosses the gym, holding my gaze and telling me without words exactly what he’s thinking about right now.
My groin tightens, and my lungs struggle to get a deep enough breath.
Why can’t I look away?
CHAPTER 18
BRODY
I hold Beck’s stare, unable to look away from him, even to properly shake hands with my opponent. His eyes on me before the match set a fire in my veins that is quickly becoming a potential hazard for this entire gym. I’m not even sure what happened with my wrestling partner. All I know is I looked down and saw the dude pinned beneath me, looking stunned. I scrambled to get off him quickly before he noticed what kind of impossible situation I’m holding back.
Across the gym, Beck’s eyes are fixed on me, like I’ve got a hand around his throat pulling him closer. The hungry, intense, desperate way he watches me sends a slow, dangerous tingle up my spine. The kind that makes my thighs tighten and my pulse go haywire.
We have a silent, private conversation. You. Me.Now.
He takes a few steps towards me, and I start inching towards the nearest exit. I’m pretty sure there’s a utility room back here somewhere. Literally any place with enough privacy to get my hands on him would suffice.
Beck’s eyes are torn away from mine, jarring me out of my trancelike state. I blink, confused, seeing Beck’s back to me all of a sudden. He’s walking the other way?
The scope of my vision widens, and I see Mr. Beckett with his hand gripping Beck’s arm tightly, dragging him off to the sidelines. Their heads bend low, and by the look of Mr. Beckett’s scowl and the rapid-fire movements of his vicious lips, he’s likely spitting more of the poison he’s perfected.
I watch the fire drain from Beck’s eyes. His posture straightens and somehow deflates at the same time. His gaze is trained on the polished concrete under his feet, giving short, clipped nods at whatever bullshit is being spewed at him.
My stomach twists, and I ball my fists so hard my nails dig into my palms. It takes every bit of self-control I have not to march over there and put the esteemed Mr. Charles Beckett on the ground.
I stare so hard that Mr. Beckett must feel it. He cuts his eyes towards me and gives me a dismissive once-over, sneers, and turns back to his son. Beck chances a glance, hollow-eyed and apologetic. When I’m sure I have his attention, I tilt my chin towards the locker rooms with a wordless command.
Come.
Then I turn to my right and walk along the edge of the gym towards the locker rooms. If he doesn’t follow… No. He will. I don’t let myself consider otherwise. Not until I’m alone for long enough that I start to question it.
The shouts and clapping from the crowd grows louder as the door swings open, then muffles again when it closes. Myheartbeat hammers, and I turn around to face Beck as he walks in.
His shoulders are tight, body language guarded. His eyes have shadows that weren’t there ten minutes ago. He looks exhausted. But when those dark eyes flick up to meet mine, something sparks. Something I can read.
Something I can work with.
Without saying a word, I turn and walk through the entrance to the showers. I can hear his footsteps behind me.
He follows me all the way to the back, where there are a few single stalls that rarely get used. I reach deep into the stall to turn the water on so there’s sound to drown out our voices and turn around just as Beck steps inside and pulls the curtain closed.
“Are you alright?” I ask finally. I’m not sure if that’s what he wants to hear right now, but I need to ask. I want him to know I care about more than getting off.
“I’m fine,” he snaps. Then he shakes his head and takes a breath, actively releasing the tension from his shoulders. “I’m fine,” he says more softly.
“You don’t have to lie to me. Or downplay anything.”
He swallows deeply, looks down at his feet, then back up at me. He rakes a hand through his hair, and shrugs.
I cock my head thoughtfully. “What can I do?” Please say it. I need you to say it, Becky.Tell me you need me.
There’s a long beat of silence, but his eyes say everything. Make me forget. Get me out of my head. Take control before I lose myself.
I nod my understanding and start peeling out of my singlet while I kick my shoes to the far corner. He does the same.
