Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Savelina shot a look toward the edge of the park. “They must have figured out your location pretty quickly, thanks to the live stream.”
“But fear not.” Vance waggled his eyebrows. “We have an idea.”
Beat watched as both groups of friends, nerds and preppies alike, moved in a big herd and blocked them from view of the camera. Meanwhile, Vance and Savelina hurriedly removed their outerwear. “Quick,” said Melody’s boss. “Swap jackets and hats with us. We’ll lead them one direction, you guys run in the other.”
Melody pushed up into a sitting position but remained on Beat’s lap. “Really?”
“Hurry,” Vance prompted. “I have to pee.”
Savelina giggled, throwing her orange beanie at Melody, shouldering off her black parka. “We have to hang out again,” she said to Vance.
“What are you doing tomorrow?”
“What else? Watching these two pretend they wouldn’t die for each other.”
“Oooh. Viewing party?”
“I’ll bring sangria.”
“We can hear you guys,” Melody murmured, casting Beat a fleeting sidelong glance.
He took her chin before she could look away, holding her stare, smoothing his thumb across her plush bottom lip. “I’m not pretending,” he said firmly. “You know that, right?”
A shudder coursed through Melody. She nodded.
“Good,” Beat said, releasing her chin to unzip his coat.
The clothing trade took under a minute. Beat put on Vance’s jacket, though it was a tight fit, and donned his flannel ski cap. Melody pulled Savelina’s orange beanie down low over her ears and buttoned up the black parka. It was going to be a tough sell that Vance and Savelina were Melody and Beat, but maybe from a distance?
Didn’t matter. He would have taken any odds in the hopes of being alone with Melody right now. Tonight. Something inside of him had changed and he didn’t know what it meant for him. For them. He only knew Melody would be there while he figured it out—and that made everything okay.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Melody took Beat’s borrowed jacket and hung it on her coatrack, studying his face as he saw her apartment for the first time. Having him there didn’t feel real. Especially after running six blocks in disguise to ditch two pissed-off producers and avoid a mob of people who knew way too much about them. The direction in which Melody’s life was headed remained unclear, but she was allowing herself to settle into this state of limbo. The unknown.
It wasn’t scary when her best friend was beside her.
Right. Best friend.
She could still feel his fingers clasping her chin. I’m not pretending. You know that, right?
He’d been referring to the implication that they would die for each other.
These were big feelings, big declarations. Big things happening under the title of friendship that she wasn’t sure belonged there. Or maybe she and Beat had their own category of relationship that wasn’t discovered yet. Was that arrogant? Maybe. She was really leaning into the whole jock vibe, apparently.
“It’s exactly what I pictured,” Beat said. Was his voice deeper than usual?
“Which is to say . . .”
He hummed while choosing how to respond, his steps carrying him into the living area. “Everywhere I look, there’s something that feels like you. That string of yellow yarn holding back the curtain. Colorful ceramics, but simple white flowers. The fuzzy sock sticking out from between those couch cushions, your nightshirt on the coffee table.” He ran his index finger along the back of the piece of furniture in question and cast her a sidelong look. “You fall asleep on this couch a lot, Mel?”
She was still watching that sensual finger where it dragged side to side on the leather. Her leather. Up and back on the seam. “Every night, actually. I finally gave in and bought a huge couch. It takes up too much space, but it doubles as a bed.”
“I fall asleep on the couch every night, too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” He was using his thumb on the cushion seam now, raking it up. Down. “The attic at Trina’s house was the first time I’ve fallen asleep in a bed in years.”
Words spoken so casually about the night they’d had sex were like a velvet punch to the belly, followed by a long, slow twist. “Imagine that.”
Beat’s thumb dug into the cushion hard. “I do, Peach. All the time.”
The air was growing thicker by the second, Melody’s pulse traveling lower, lower, to a dangerous region of her body. It would be so easy to pretend she hadn’t set a boundary between them in New Hampshire. But she had and she would be doing herself a disservice by ignoring it. “Beat . . .”
“Something feels different tonight, Mel. Different from in the attic or any time before.” A line ticked in his cheek, his gaze more intense than she’d ever seen it. “I have no right to ask. You can tell me to fuck off right now, but . . . I want a lot more than friendship with you.”