Page 26 of Slow Burn (Driven 5)
The name falls out before I can even process my thoughts properly and get a handle on what I’m about to say. And of course I really mean that I understand why Becks was angry at me—I want to explain Dante’s presence properly—but my brain is scrambled with whatever jacked-up hold he seems to have on my coherency.
Becks’s brow furrows immediately in response, and before he can voice the question I can see on his tongue, Maddie makes her presence known.
“What do you call a bad popcorn joke?” her high-pitched voice asks to my right.
His eyes narrow at me momentarily before darting over to Maddie. To the little girl I should be answering, but my eyes are fixated on Becks’s face and the range of expressions that are playing over his features: confusion, interest, amusement. His smile spreads wide and genuine on his face as he steps toward her and lowers himself onto his haunches so that he’s about eye level.
“Hm,” he says, and then purses his lips in thought. “I think I have an answer but I’m not supposed to talk to strangers … so I’m sorry but you’re a stranger.” He just keeps his eyes focused on her as she erupts into a fit of deep giggles from her belly.
She angles her head and rolls her eyes at him, the laughter still bubbling up as she forgets all about the popcorn and falls under Becks’s charm. “I’m Maddie,” she says.
“Ah … you wouldn’t be half of that fabulous duo Haddie Maddie would you?” he asks, and my heart immediately swells, watching him engage with her—and at the knowledge that he remembers who she is from overhearing my past conversations with Rylee, knows how much she means to me. And then of course, I don’t want my heart to swell because how can it swell if I don’t like him in that way? Maddie’s giggle pulls me from my overanalysis, which seems to be the norm as of late around him.
“Yes,” she says.
“Oh, well, in that case, I do know you,” he says, holding his hand out to her. “I’m Becks. Your aunt Haddie’s friend.”
Friend. Hm. I mull the word over in my mind, wanting to like the sound of it but at the same time wanting to reject it immediately. Lover of hot monkey sex with strings tying me to the headboard sounds so much better.
Maddie’s voice pulls me back again as she shakes his hand. “So, what’s the answer?”
“What do you call a bad popcorn joke?” Becks repeats as he stands up and grabs a handful of popcorn from our bag on the table in front of him. “I’d call it corny.” He chuckles as Maddie’s jaw falls open momentarily in shock that he guessed the answer correctly. Then she grins ear to ear.
Question answered, Becks turns his body toward mine, and I find myself standing without thinking, like he has some kind of magnetic pull on me I can’t resist. He angles his head to the side and just stares at me for a moment. “Hey.”
“Hi,” I say, my body thrumming instantly from his attention. Nipples tight, pulse racing, body flushed.
“Dante?” he asks, and I immediately cringe that he remembered my greeting to him. “Am I missing something here?”
I sigh and shake my head. “Yeah. I just wanted to explain who answered your phone the other day. Dante is—”
“Not my business.” His matter-of-fact tone stops me momentarily, but I want him to know the truth.
“He’s someone from my past. He needed a place to stay,” I tell him, but he just quirks his eyebrows at me. I glance over to see Maddie watching our exchange with amused curiosity, popcorn in hand for the show.
“You can say ex, Had. No strings, remember?”
I swear to God if I never hear that term again, I’ll be a happy woman. He taunts me with it every chance he gets, a verbal assault on my conscience. A way to let me know that … what? If I wanted strings, then maybe he might too? I mean that’s just not plausible.
“Becks, it’s important for you to know that I didn’t hop from being with you to being with someone else. Nothing is going on between Dante and me.”
“Just like nothing is going on between you and me, right?” he asks, suggestion in his tone and the question hanging in the sexually charged air between us. I avert my eyes as I sigh, my gaze dragging down his T-shirt and board shorts to flip-flops as I try to find my footing in this world, which is continually tilting beneath me.
And shit, I hate earthquakes.
“Becks …” My voice trails off, and I’m not sure what to say because he’s right. There is most definitely something here between us. Something that I don’t want but can’t seem to stop thinking about. Maybe we should just hook up one more time, flush this need from my system once and for all.
I start to think it’s a brilliant idea. I’m already mentally undressing him when his name is called out over the hum of the market’s activity. “Becks?”
And I’m instantly bristling at the accented voice calling to him. He stares at me a moment longer, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip while his eyes dare me to question him. “One second,” he calls out to Ms. Exotic, holding a finger up to her before turning his attention back to me, challenge back in his gaze. It’s almost as if he’s taunting me, wanting me to ask him to stay, to explain who or what she is to him.
As desperately as I want to know, I settle for smiling subtly and shaking my head in response. When I shift my gaze, I meet Ms. Exotic’s eyes, and she smiles genuinely at me, making me hate her on the spot. Can’t she be some superficial catty bitch so that I have reason not to like her? And I hate that I hate her for it, but she has no clue who I am. Or how expertly Becks has handled my body.
And now holds my emotions.
Maybe it’s her presence that has me immediately wanting Becks all that much more. Makes me wish that easy smile he’s giving her was directed at me instead of the one that always seems to taunt me. The one that says you know you want this—want more of whatever this is—so why are you fighting it?
“Haddie?” His voice fortifies my obstinacy, but the gentle probing in it tugs on my resolve.
