got to the kitchen, I was blown away. He had a gourmet stainless steel oven with a six-burner gas cook top and an extra-large refrigerator. The pots and pans were on a hanging rack above a butcher-block island, and I could imagine myself cooking in that room for hours on end. With wonder in my eyes, I turned to him and said, “This kitchen is spectacular!”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“I’ve always wanted a kitchen like this. It’s like you read my mind.”
A strange look crossed his face as he said, “You know, it’s getting late. I better take you back home.”
“Okay.”
I knew he was right. I had to be at work the next morning, so I needed to get some sleep. When we arrived back at my place, Beckett asked, “You good tonight, or would you like me to stay?”
“I’m good, but you know you’re welcome to stay.”
“Appreciate that, but I’m gonna head on home. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”
“Okay.” When he turned to leave, I called out to him, “Hey, Beckett.”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime, freckles. Anytime.”
He gave me a wink, then turned and walked towards his bike. I waited until he’d started the engine before I closed the door and locked it, then I headed to bed.
The next few days had gone pretty well. I was actually starting to feel like things were going to be okay, and then I saw Lucas again. While I was on the way to my car, I noticed him walking across the Peabody’s parking lot with a woman. I assumed she was his wife, but I could’ve been wrong. It didn’t matter. The fact was I’d seen him, and that was enough to put an end to my good days. That night when Beckett came to check on me, he didn’t have to ask if I needed him to stay. It was written all over my face. He gave me a hug, then sent me to bed as he headed over to his spot on the sofa. My mind was reeling with thoughts of Lucas as I drifted off to sleep, so it was no wonder that I had a bad dream. Apparently, it was really bad—bad enough to wake up Beckett and have him come rushing into my bedroom. He pulled me into his arms and held me close as he whispered, “You’re okay. I’m here.”
“He was here, Beckett... He was in my bedroom.”
“No one’s here, Lyssa. It’s just us.” He ran his hand down my back. “It was just a dream—a really bad dream.”
“It seemed so vivid. It was as if he were here, on top of me, and I couldn’t breathe. I was so scared.”
“You’re okay. I’m right here.” Beckett’s voice was calm and reassuring as he whispered, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“You promise?”
“You have my word. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.” He eased me back off of him so he could see my face. His expression was marked with concern. “I think it’s time you told me what the hell is going on.”
“I can’t. If I do, it’ll change everything.”
“I have no idea what you mean by that.”
“I know, but you’re just going to have to trust me.”
His dark eyes narrowed in confusion. “What exactly do you think is gonna change?”
“You.” Over the past couple of weeks, Beckett had been my one true constant. He anchored me, made me feel like everything was going to be okay, and even if we were just friends, I liked the way things were between us. I was afraid if I told him what had happened with Lucas, he would treat me differently—like I was broken or damaged beyond repair. “You’ll change.”
“I’m sorry, freckles, but I’m not following.”
“Something happened to me, Beckett. Something that was out of my control”—I lowered my head—“and if you knew what that something was, you wouldn’t think the same way about me as you do now.”
“Are you kidding me?” He brought his hand up to my chin, gently lifting my head, and when my eyes met his, he whispered, “I think you’re an incredible woman, inside and out, and nothing you could ever tell me is gonna change that.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Try me.”
“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I let out a deep breath. “I was sixteen when Lucas Brant asked me to go to Homecoming …”
I spent the next half hour rehashing everything that had happened that night. It wasn’t easy. No one knew except Clay and I hadn’t spoken about it since. I