Page 110 of Changing Lanes

“Why’s that? Who am I to you for you not to leave?” He frowns at the words, watching them stumble around between us, looking for somewhere safe to land.

“You’re just-”

“Don’t say just your roommate.”

“You’re…Beckett.”

How am I supposed to label him? How am I supposed to label this? I don’t even know. But he’s right, he’s not just my roommate. I don’t know if he’s ever been just my roommate. No matter how hard I tried to act like he was, the title never really fit.

“Hey, see you guys back at the site. We’re out of here. Make sure you ditch the stringers first.” Coty gestures to the pesky insects infringing on all of my personal space—even from ten feet away.

Without breaking our connection, Beckett nods easily at his friends as they pass.

When they’re gone, I openly wave at the butterflies, saying, “They’re waiting for you.”

Neither of us blink for a minute then Beckett finally tears his tightened gaze from mine, lingering on the fluttering duo a little too long. His mouth once again sours every last bit of my mood by sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes roam the half-naked pair.

A snarl rips from my throat before I can swallow it fully.

Beckett bows his head, his grip seizing the middle of my back to bring me in as close as our bodies will allow. Still focused on the dancing girls, he says, “if something’s bothering you, all you gotta do is say it,” repeating what he told me the last time I was upset.

My response building—snowballing, really—into an epic spat dies in its tracks when Beckett brings his gaze back to mine making everything else fade away. Harmonic convergence, I think it’s called when all the planets are aligned. There is nothing else in front or behind or even beside me. Nothing but him. He’s all I see.

He’s all I want.

Lips parting, his eyes bore into mine. “Just tell me.”

Tell him what exactly? Tell him I don’t want him to disappear either? That the mere thought of him slinking off with anyone else literally makes my stomach cramp?

Or does he want me to admit I’m falling for him? Because I could. I could say it all and mean it with every cell in my body.

But I won’t. I can’t. He’s not ready for that. I’m not ready for that.

“What do you say, dream?”

Dream?

That ever-present glimmer of mischief only intensifies with his challenging tone. A challenge he’s tossing at my feet while smiling in my face.

My heart pounds in my fucking throat like the clock in Hook’s alligator’s, the thrumming vein in my neck counting out the seconds. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

What do I say? And why can’t I make myself drop my hands from his confident arms?

Just as he begins to turn his head, my hand shoots up, grabbing his chin and holding his face in place with his triumphant stare locked on mine.

Time stops as we wait—him to see what I’ll do next, me to also see what I’ll do next.

I swallow some of my heart back down to where it belongs, safe in its home, surrounded by strong ribs protecting the susceptible organ from any harm—even from me—and without breaking eye contact with Beckett, I say, “find someone else to explore with tonight,” to the pests.

When they make no move to leave, I meet the girls’ disbelieving glares with one of my own, shooing them off, “Run along now. This one’s busy.” For tonight anyway.

A low growl in Beckett’s throat builds, reverberating off my own vocal cords.

“There she is.” A lazy smile curves his lips. “That possessive streak must run deep in your family.”

“You don’t even know my family.”

Beckett flinches but shakes it off before I ask why. They met at Coty and Angela’s briefly but there wasn’t any real bonding. Or talking really. Or general friendliness whatsoever. They just kind of co-existed in the same airspace, like planets in a solar system except without the chance of ever aligning.