The Arrangement (A Real Man, #23) - Jenika Snow Page 0,11

from me as if I’d burned his skin. “Just stay away from us,” Beckham said with so much hatred I couldn’t keep myself from crying out, the tears a steady flow down my cheeks.

“Beckham,” I whispered. What in the hell was going on right now?

The way he looked at me… it was as if he stared at the one person who ruined everything. My mother. He saw her in me. In this moment, I knew he was blinded by the hurt and betrayal, and I was the easiest target.

“Ah, fuck, Lenora,” Beckham said, pulling me back to the present and from my thoughts.

I realized I’d totally disconnected right then and there. I felt the tears sliding down my cheeks and quickly brushed them away. He moved closer, and I took a stuttering breath.

“You broke my heart, Beckham,” I finally admitted. I’d never spoken those words out loud.

He was by me a second later, embracing me. I didn’t stop him, didn’t push him away.

“I know,” was all he said, his arms wrapped tightly around me as he pulled me impossibly closer. “I fucked up so badly, Lenora. So badly.” His words were so soft I almost didn’t hear them. “I fucked up.”

Chapter Seven

Beckham

God, I’d forever regret how I hurt her.

I was the reason she was like this, crying, her body leaning against mine, the desperation and sadness in her voice all because of me. And it had taken her contacting me and six long damn months for me to try to rectify this. But she wasn’t pushing me away, didn’t tell me to fuck off. She let me hold her, and God it felt incredible.

I didn’t know how long we sat there, her leaning against my chest, seeking support, comfort, my arms around her body, listening to her start to calm down. But I’d hold her forever if that’s what it took, if that’s what she wanted.

It was only then that I pulled back slightly, looking into her face. I didn’t stop myself from lifting my hand and running my thumb across her cheek, wiping away her tears. I wanted to kiss them away. I wanted to be the man who made sure she never felt like this ever again.

“I’m so damn sorry, Lenora.” Those words seemed so inadequate, so insignificant and tame in comparison to how I actually felt. “I regretted what I said as soon as it came from my mouth, as soon as I saw the hurt I caused you. I didn’t mean one goddamn fucking word I said that day.”

She wiped the remaining wetness off her cheeks and nodded, but she wasn’t meeting my gaze. “Why didn’t you ever reach out to me? Why didn’t you ever contact me if you were so sorry?”

I didn’t know what to say. But I couldn’t leave her wondering, couldn’t let that question hang between us. “Stupidity. Embarrassment.” I cleared my throat. “I picked up my phone so many times, Lenora. So. Many. Times. I wanted to call you. I’ve driven by your place more times than I can count, more times than I even want to admit. But in the end, it was fear that kept me away.”

She looked up at me then, and I saw the confusion on her face. “Fear?” She exhaled slowly, and I waited for her to continue, because honestly I had no idea what else to say. I didn’t know what to say or do to make things right. “Why would you possibly be afraid to reach out to me?”

It was my turn to exhale as I shifted on the couch and leaned against the cushion, putting a little bit of distance between us so she could breathe, so she didn’t feel like I was crowding her. “Because I was sure I had done irreparable damage. For the last six months, all I’ve done is think about what I said to you, how I looked at you. None of that was your fault. I projected my anger for your mother, the hurt I knew my father felt, onto you. I’d seen my father’s heart break, and because you were there, trying to reach out to me, trying to make things better… I just lashed out.” I felt so many emotions right now. So many they were drowning me. “And I’ve regretted it every fucking minute of every day since then, Lenora.” My chest hurt, my heart aching. I lifted my hand and rubbed my sternum, wanting nothing more than to pull her close and embrace