Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
I can’t ask him without giving away that I was listening, but everything suddenly makes a great deal of sense.
Beckett is in love with a woman he’ll never be able to please.
He has to know that, right?
Love, though.
It does stupid things to you.
Ten minutes later, Beckett walks in and opens the bathroom door. I act like I haven’t moved a damned muscle.
“Am I free now, Captain?” I ask, flicking him a smile. “Because a girl could eat.”
He studies me, and the exhaustion in his eyes makes me want to hug him.
But that wouldn’t go down well.
“Yeah.”
I follow him out and down to the kitchen where he begins preparing some breakfast.
“Want to tell me why you locked me in the bathroom?” I ask, sitting on a stool by the counter and watching him.
“No,” he mutters.
“Girlfriend?” I pretend to guess.
“No.”
“Oh, secret lover?”
He shoots me a glare.
But he doesn’t say no.
“Mind your fuckin’ business.”
Moody.
I’ll get to the bottom of this little affair.
Oh yes.
Yes, I will.
“I CAN’T,” I MOAN, STARING at the bleach solution and forcing the contents of my stomach to stay where they are.
“We gotta fuckin’ work,” Beckett orders.
“I literally can’t, Beckett. I will vomit if I go closer to that solution. I already feel like I’m going to die.”
“Then you should learn how to handle your alcohol better,” he fires at me.
I cross my arms, taking another step away. “Thank you for your wonderful advice, but I’m telling you, I’m not going to be able to do this right now. Let me sleep, then I’ll be good this afternoon.”
“I have shit to do. I’m not here to fuckin’ wait for you.”
“God, you’re such a giant penis,” I snap. “Can’t you be nice for two seconds?”
He glares at me. I raise my brows and cross my arms.
We have a stare off.
“I’ll keep workin’, you lay down,” he begrudgingly mumbles.
“Thank you,” I say, turning and walking over to the sofa where I lie down after taking two Tylenol.
God.
I feel horrible.
I fall asleep quickly and nap for what seems like minutes. When I wake, though, the warehouse is quiet. I rub my eyes and feel something warm at the end of the sofa. I look over to see Beckett sitting beside me, his head tipped back, eyes closed. Oh, so someone needed a nap too, did they? My heart feels a little warm when I see my feet are on his lap. He squished in beside me, when he could have gone to my bed if he really wanted a decent nap.
I watch him for a second, taking in his calm face as he sleeps. He really is something else. So incredibly gorgeous, and when his face isn’t tight from his troubles, he looks even better. His hand moves to rest on my foot and my tummy does a little flip. God, stop it, Poppy. You’re better than this. I let my eyes flutter closed again, and before I know it, I’m asleep once more.
The next time I wake up, Beckett isn’t on the sofa anymore, but back to work. When I drag myself up to help him, he acts like he was never near me. Like he hadn’t stopped at all. What is he so afraid of? Us actually getting along if he’s nice to me? Me becoming more than just a prisoner?
I walk over to where he’s working on the money and begin helping him without a word. He doesn’t look at me, which is kind of rude, but I let it go.
We work in silence for a few hours, until finally the quiet is broken up when Riggs, Eve, Hugh, and Remy all walk into the warehouse carrying bags of food. I could run and hug them, I’m that hungry, but I try to act cool. I try to act like the waft of burgers coming from that bag isn’t making me want to throw myself at their feet and beg for just one bite. My stomach rumbles, and Beckett gives me a side eye.
“Keep your judgy glances to yourself,” I murmur, before stopping what I’m doing and walking over to greet my new favorite humans.
“A sorry meal,” Eve says, holding out the bags. “I’m so sorry I left without you last night. I was so drunk and Riggs took me home. I completely forgot I promised you could stay. I’m a terrible friend, it’ll never happen again. Can you forgive me?”
Friend.
Now there’s a word I haven’t heard in a long time.
Eve knows when the club is done with me I’ll be on my way and yet, still, she refers to me as her friend.
I could cry.
But I’d rather eat.
“You’re forgiven,” I say, opening the bag and pulling out the delicious, greasy burger, and sitting cross-legged on the ground, toss the other one at Beckett.
I don’t wait.
I eat and oh, god, it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.