“Hell yeah, sign me up, coach. I’m ready to work on the NASCAR circuit,” I tease, looking back down at the parts.
He shakes his head, a small smile on his face. I melt.I made Beckett Hayes smile.I want to see that again, and again, and again.
I keep working next to him, my hands dirty. And for some reason, I can’t find it in me to care about the dirt and the grease. Our sides are pressed together as he keeps telling me about all the parts and how they function.
I like this a lot more than I thought I would, but I mostly think that I like the attention, the way he makes me feel. Not once has he ever made me feel stupid today. He takes whatever questions I give him, and he answers them.
God, what did I do wrong? If only I were a few years older.
I shake my head.Where the hell did that come from?That was totally inappropriate. I don’t understand this stupid infatuation. It needs to stop; it can’t be healthy. He is double my age, but that doesn’t stop me from looking at him.
Our eyes connect for a moment, and he slowly reaches up and cups my cheek with his hand. Instinctively, I lean into the contact.
He brushes his thumb under my eye before pulling away. “Sorry, you had some grease.”
My heart literally stops beating, and I stare, mortified.Why the fuck did I think that he was going to kiss me?
My cheeks heat, and I quickly look away, feeling more embarrassed than I did the other day when I called him pretty.
“I’m sorry, I should go inside and make dinner,” I mumble, turning around and quickly exiting the shop, not daring to look back at him and make an even bigger fool of myself.
I stand over the kitchen sink, gripping the counter and feeling so fucking stupid.
My head tips back unconsciously as the ghost of him catches back up to me, his touch, his breath. The tingle that makes its way through my body at the thought of what could have happened yesterday had the tea kettle not been interrupted.
What the fuck am I doing?I scold myself, shaking my head, aggressively turning on the faucet, scrubbing the dishes from breakfast and lunch.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid girl. No one loves you, and you will never be enough for anyone, especially not for that man outside. He’s doing this as a favor to Briar. He doesn’t want you. How could he?
I grit my teeth together and try to stop the tears that threaten to spill, my brain reminding me of what I already know.
But last night, that didn’t feel like nothing.I try to reason with myself. My brain and heart are at war as I stand at the sink washing dishes, wondering which side is right.
Would he ever be able to love me? Or will I always just be Briar Monroe’s useless youngest child?
10
BECKETT
~JUNE~
She’s been here for over a month, and I’m starting to notice things that I shouldn’t.
There is always a candle next to the stove. She goes through about one a week, and we never have the exact same scent twice.
She mostly wears leggings, tiny shorts, or sweats.
Her shirts are either extra baggy or skin tight.
She almost never wears her hair down.
She doesn’t really wear makeup.
Her nails are almost always painted, both fingers and toes.
There’s a bowl full of cherry, heart-shaped suckers on the kitchen island.
I hate how much I notice things. I shouldn’t be noticing anything about her. She shouldn’t even be a thought in my mind, and for some reason, she is.
