When Xan was gone, Beckett jerked his chin at me. “Let’s talk.”
I thought nothing could cut me deeper than the injured look on his face, but the sound of his pained voice pierced me to the bone.
“Beckett…”
“Not here.”
Although we were alone in the aisle, anyone could walk around the corner at any moment—as Beckett had just proven. I’d already revealed too much to the public. I didn’t want to advertise our private conversation all over the internet too.
I got up and walked across the main floor, through the café, and to Thatcher’s office. Beckett followed me and closed the door behind us. There was only one chair in the room, and neither of us took it. I forced myself to look up at Beckett. I wished I could slip my arms around his waist and bury my face against his chest. I wished I could go back in time and stay in bed with him this morning instead of coming in to work.
“I’m sorry.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew they were wrong. They weren’t enough, not for what I’d done.
“I can’t believe it.” Beckett looked at me as if I’d just spoiled the ending of his favorite book.
“I didn’t know anyone was filming,” I said. “I didn’t realize…”
“Have you been talking to him this whole time?”
I frowned up at him. “What?”
Beckett’s presence was enormous in the tiny office. He stalked two steps forward and was nearly on top of me. He placed his hands on the desk on either side of my hips, trapping me in place. “Answer me.”
My poor brain struggled to keep up. “Wait.” I pulled in a breath, my eyes flashing up to his. “What?”
“Are you seeing him?”
“What are you talking about?”
Beckett made a noise in his throat that sounded more animal than man. He bent his head, and his hair flopped onto his forehead. He seemed so much bigger than me. So broad and intimidating. So intense. “Tell me the truth,” he growled.
I couldn’t resist touching him. I lifted my hand to trace the hard flex of his jaw, but he jerked away. He paced a few feet to the door, giving me his back.
“I said I was sorry. I would take it back if I could. I would take back this entire day.” Well, except the shower. “I didn’t mean to expose your secret.”
Beckett turned back to look at me. His face was pale except for the two bright splotches that colored his cheeks. “I was willing to wait for you to come around,” he said. “I thought deep down you loved me, and you would realize it.” He pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re always saying I should be authentic, pushing me to own my work. But you’re the one who has been lying to me.”
“What?” I took a step towards him, but he raised a hand as if to ward me off. I laced my fingers together to keep from touching him, heart beating frantically in my chest. “I never lied to you.”
“That scene I walked in on was…” He shook his head, glaring at me.
“What scene?” My mind struggled to keep up. Beckett wasn’t making sense. “Me and Xan?” The angry look on Beckett’s face helped me piece things together. “You’re jealous of Xan?”
Beckett’s mouth thinned to a line. “Don’t say his name.”
I stepped closer. If I could just touch him, maybe he would feel how much I meant it. I was horrible with words. I wasn’t a writer like him. I couldn’t bend words to make them sound pretty. I couldn’t even find the right ones to express my feelings.
“How could you even talk to him after what he did to you?”
“I told you that was a misunderstanding.” Frustration burst inside me. “Xan didn’t drug me.”
Beckett threw his hands up in the air. “I swear if you say his name one more time, I’m going to lose my mind.” He turned and paced one step to the other end of the room, ripping off his glasses to rub his eyes with his balled-up fists.
I came up behind him and touched his shoulder. His muscles stiffened beneath my hand, but he didn’t pull away. “I’m so sorry. I didn't mean to tell your secret. I was so angry…”
He shrugged my hand away from his shoulder. “How can you have this power over me? You’ve just ripped my heart out and I still want you. I still love you with everything I am.”
Tears ran down my cheeks. I didn’t bother to wipe them away. I hugged my arms across my chest to keep my emotions inside. “Beckett…” My heart slammed against my ribs. Why was love so much easier in novels? The real thing was messy and scary, and there were no guaranteed happy endings. “I’m sorry.”
