Page 41 of Promise To Marry You
Then I walk out on my very naked, very baffled best friend.
Chapter twenty
Beckett
I expected the freak-out. I did. I’m not an idiot, or a lovesick fool. Granted, I did think I would get a few more minutes to come down from the exceptional high of morning sex with Cambeforeshe freaked out.
As I stare at my bedroom door that she closed as she basically took off like hellhounds were at her feet, there’s no denying it fucking hurts to have her walk away so quickly.
I fall back on the bed and stare at the ceiling, listening to the sound of the shower turning on across the hall.
Wonder what she’d do if I just walked in there and joined her, lifted her against the wall, and fucked her.
Before this morning, I never would have allowed myself to even think that. But now, a small, depraved part of me wants to see what she’d do. Whether she’d push me away or let me take her. I don’t doubt she liked what we did. Hell, the evidence was clear in her body, her words, everything.
But responsibility wins out. I have a full day at the office; if Cam needs some space to process everything, I might as well try to keep my mind busy so I don’t spend the entire day overthinking her running away right after we have sex for the first time.
Knowing I’ve got some time before the shower is free, I pull on some shorts and go to the kitchen to start some coffee.
Once that’s brewing, I scramble up some eggs, adding extra pepper because that’s how Cam eats them, and pop some bread in the toaster. By the time breakfast is ready, the shower’s off but there’s no sign of Cam.
I eat my food alone, then move to my room and gather some clothes for the office. Still no sign of her. When I close the bathroom door behind me, the scent of her bodywash still lingers in the air. My dick responds instantly, and I frown down at it as I step into the shower, keeping the temperature on the cool side to try and settle myself.
It doesn’t work very well.
The house is empty when I emerge, ready to go to work. I’m a little disappointed if I’m being honest. Avoiding me so completely is quite the rejection. It’s a little too reminiscent of all the other times a woman has decided I’m not worth sticking around for.
Granted, more often than not, I’ve been the one ending things for one reason or another, but I’ve internalized the fact that I’m the common denominator in every scenario.
When I get to the office, I’m not in a great headspace. Jonas, my partner at the firm, takes one look at me, raises his eyebrows, and turns back into his office. He’s not a fan of emotions, good or bad. And my poker face is shit right now.
“Hi, Beckett. Your ten o’clock appointment cancelled, so your morning is free. There are some messages on your desk but it looks like a light day overall.” The cheerful, yet no less organized sound of Colleen, our administrative assistant, comes from the doorway of my office. I glance up, and her face falls into a concerned expression. “Oh dear. Is everything okay?”
“Yes. Fine. Thanks, Colleen.” My tone is brusque, probably a lot more than usual. Taking a deep breath, I try again. “Sorry, didn’t sleep well. But I don’t mean to take that out on you. Thank you for the update, I’ll catch up on some things before my afternoon appointments.”
She nods slowly. “Alright. Would you like me to hold your calls so you have some time uninterrupted?”
This time, my grateful smile is easy. “Thanks, that would be wonderful.”
She closes the door behind her and I let my head fall to my desk with a thunk. I’m meant to be the levelheaded one. The calm, practical, considerate one. That’s my role, in my family and in life. The peacemaker, not the troublemaker. And here I am, snapping at the best administrative assistant I’ve ever come across, all because my secret wife is avoiding me.
The morning drags. Around noon, I make myself leave the office to grab some lunch. I don’t know why I held any hope that I would be able to avoid seeing someone I know in a town like Dogwood Cove and with a family as large as mine; it’s basically impossible.
“Hey, Beckett.” My older brother Jude strolls over to the bench I’m sitting on in the town square, a paper bag in one hand.
I give him a nod but take a bite of my sandwich, hoping it dissuades him from sitting down to chat. No such luck.
“How’s it goin’ with Cam?”
I arch a brow at him, then look pointedly at the bag in his hand. “Is Lily waiting for her lunch?”
“Are you avoiding my question?” he fires back. This is what made him such a talented hockey player before an injury took him out of the game. The man has laser fucking focus and doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants. Whether it’s a win, or in this case, a brotherly interrogation.
“It’s going fine. Everyone keeps asking, and I keep answering — it’s fine. She’s here, she’s figuring out her life, and we’re just friends.”
Jude lets out a low chuckle. “And pigs can fly. I don’t buy it, bro, not for a second.”
Dropping my head into my hands, I try to stifle a groan. “Why do I have to be surrounded by observant and way too fucking nosy brothers?”
