Page 109 of Changing Lanes

My eyes travel over Beckett, his damp shirt glued to his tense body like a second skin and I know without a shadow of a doubt I’d join the horde. I’ve not only seen what all of Beckett’s rippled, glistening muscles look like up close, but I’ve felt them, so I understand what the others circling our personal watering hole are thirsting for. And Beckett’s body, it goes on for miles.

Clenching my thighs together, I squeeze my eyes shut, inhaling deeply.

Shit.

When I reopen them, Beckett’s watching me with something unidentifiable prowling in his gaze. Something primal. Something urgent and not open for debate. Whatever it is, I’m almost positive my eyes are its mirror image right now.

Coty hooks an arm around Angela’s neck, keeping her secure in the crook of his elbow as he whispers in her ear. With a shaky exhale, he kisses her with a need so bright it forces some to look away. Angela relaxes into his chest, swaying seamlessly to the song in the distance and, noticing the way her face lights up when she closes her eyes, breathing in his nearly visible love for her, I can’t help but wonder what that must feel like. To trust someone with your heart that’s not even pumping the same blood in theirs?

I know from experience family betrayal can cause the worst pain imaginable but Angela’s somehow found the one makeshift family that won’t break hers.

They talk in hushed tones while Cruz busies himself checking over Cynthia like she couldn’t out-nurse his ass if she wanted to. Some, if not all, healthcare professionals have a nasty habit of putting their own needs last and Cynthia’s one of them. She could use someone fawning over her for a while.

It helps. Helps remind us of our own humanity. Helps remind us we matter, too.

It definitely helps.

“I’m out.” Marc backs out from underneath the water, droplets falling from his furrowed brow, and says, “Hit me up if any more shit goes down. I’ll be around.”

I consider my secretive roommate as his lithe body saunters toward a Cuban food truck, hands in his pockets, probably digging for a cigarette. If anyone needs to let loose, it’s him. I’m not sure what he actually does for fun aside from disappearing to unknown locations whenever the mood strikes but I imagine it involves scaring small children or winning staring contests with pit bulls. Although, he didn’t scare off those kids at the park last weekend. Not in the slightest.

“I couldn’t get there in time.”

Beckett gives up his pseudo shower to press into my back, getting me wet, too. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Probably won’t be the last either.

I shake my head at myself and Beckett. Mostly Beckett.

“I told you we had it covered, so just stop already. I don’t buy the prince act and you’re not charming.” Maybe a little. Sometimes.

“I don’t give a baker’s fuck if you had it covered,” he growls, his voice skating over my skin like a wintry morning draft.

Slowly, oh so slowly, I turn to peek at him over my shoulder bringing our mouths inches apart.

“I didn’t like his hands on you. I hated him touching you.”

Finally, Beckett and I agree on something.

“You do know we didn’t want that, right? I didn’t want him.”

Beckett’s large hand spread wide on my stomach, he yanks me back into his toned middle, dropping his lips to the shell of my ear.

The tips of colorful wings dancing closer to our mister catch my eye.

“You’re wanted though,” I tell him with a nod that he ignores, grazing his lips along the sensitive skin that was just mistreated by another’s. Shots are in order after this. Medical, alcohol, I’ll take one of each.

“So are you,” he whispers.

The poke to my backside proves he’s telling the truth, but so was I. Splashes of color fill my peripheral as I turn in Beckett’s arms coming face-to-face with him and essentially killing the sarcastic response on my tongue. It’s been almost a week since he was wrapped around me like this and I forgot how imperfectly perfect he is.

I take a moment to run my gaze along his achingly beautiful face. How can someone that looks the exact same from only a short while ago appear so different all of a sudden?

His eyebrows almost meet in the middle. “I wasn’t sure I’d get to you in time. I thought he was going to try to take you.”

Away. He thought I was going to be taken away.

I study his eyes, dropping my voice for his ears only. “I’m not like your mom. I’m not going anywhere.” And surprisingly, I mean it.