Page 52 of Changing Lanes

He still hasn’t released my face, or my lip, or my interest. Why is he so concerned all of a sudden?

“Honestly, I’m surprised you even noticed I was gone. I thought I wasn’t worth your attention.”

Gaze solely on my mouth again, he lowers his head and on instinct I flinch backward. Beckett’s unpredictable on a good day, today he’s out of his fucking mind. I wasn’t cast aside by the beast himself just to fall back into his ruthless trap.

He hovers there, saying, “I notice everything about you.” His eyes meet mine again, reminding me to breathe and he asks, “Why did you leave?”

Under his penetrating stare, I swallow thickly, huffing out, “I needed a break.”

I need a break.

“I didn’t like it.”

Only child syndrome strikes again.

“That’s not my problem.” But also…what? This is about the complete opposite of what he was saying before I went to stay at Dixon’s. I thought he wanted me gone. I thought he would’ve been celebrating my absence, not pouting again. Was he pouting over me?

“What about Marc?”

Finally releasing my lip, his eyes narrow, something unreadable passing them.

“What about him?”

“Doesn’t he deserve to know where you were?”

That’s the weirdest shit I’ve ever heard. Why the hell would Marc, of all people, need to know where I was? My rent is paid up and that’s all either of these two deserve to know.

“I don’t answer to Marc any more than I answer to the apartment manager. If it affects rent, then maybe, otherwise I don’t see why it’d matter to him where I went.” He said it himself that I’m free to come and go as I please.

He loosens his hold on my face, his fingertips now brushing my cheekbones like an artist painting a masterpiece with careful strokes and intense focus. The tingle against my skin reminds me of riding a motorcycle for the first time. With the wind teasing my face from the visor being left open, I relished feeling as much of the elements as possible. To be one with nature instead of being boxed up in a metal cage.

Beckett’s touch is like being freed all over again. Being shown what I’ve been missing. What I suddenly crave more than my next ride.

“There’s nothing going on between you two? At all?” He watches me carefully.

“Marc’s easy on the eyes,” my shoulders lift and fall in the same breath, “but that’s it. I don’t sleep with my roommates.”

The declaration tastes foreign. Like a lie. A lie I’m trying to convince myself along with the beautiful boy standing in front of me.

Beckett’s gaze drops again just as his lips meet mine.

Stunned, I freeze in place, my eyes still open and everything. He lazily closes his like he’s cherishing what he sees first. Gentle and sweet, his mouth caresses mine with such care I melt. Melt into him.

I didn’t think at his size he’d have a gentle bone in his body. I figured his affection would be like a bull in a china shop—clumsy and hurried. Yet, his kiss has a sensitivity I’ve never known. One I never even believed could exist.

The rawness almost overwhelming, I close my eyes, ready to ride the wave of crazy I must’ve been swept away in.

Beckett kisses and kisses and kisses, content in bathing my lips in careful touches, never once pushing for more.

Even as my mind warns of the danger in provoking Beckett—mess with the bull, get the horns—I grow downright impatient. How can pain scare me anymore? I’m fucking choking on it and I’m still pulling air in my lungs. It’s grueling and burns my insides like inhaling salt water but it’s there and it hasn’t killed me yet.

Gripping my towel, I slip my tongue past my lips, tasting the surprise on his instantly.

His body stiffens and he pulls back, pinning me with dusky blue eyes. “You’re sure? What about your lip?”

A smile falls over my face. Such an innocent question from a not so innocent man. On a very long list of troubles plaguing my every waking moment, my lip is the least of my worries. In fact, it doesn’t even register at all, so I nod my head, giving him the permission he’s asking for.

Ruin me, Beckett. See if I notice.