‘And I hope you see my determination to prove to you that I’m a better man than you think. So, please. Let me do that, princess.’
Oh wow.
I draw breath and hold it until my stressed lungs are screaming for oxygen. God, never have I wanted anything like I want Becker Hunt. It’s uncontrollable, unexplainable. Maybe even crazy. But I want him. All of him – his secrets, his passion, his words.
Yet, amidst the realisation are errant wisps of wisdom. Mr H’s certainty that I am not different. Mrs Potts’s unwavering assertions that Becker will always remain aloof to true and deep affection. There is no happy ending here. He says he’s brought me into his circle of trust, but I’m not really sure he’s opened that door. And, if I give him my heart, there is no guarantee he’ll put it back in one piece when he’s done with it.
He could ruin me. But he could also fix me. To a certain extent, he’s already repaired my broken spirit. Every minute I’ve spent with him so far has been memorable. A new drive consumes me; a new, unquenchable thirst for life impels me. Saint Becker Boy Hunt and his enthralling charisma is slowly taking over my heart. He’s stealing it, no matter what I do and what I tell myself to try and stop it. Today has been amazing, wonderful, crazy good. The guilt I feel I’m constantly battling seems like a tiny smudge on the horizon of my existence whenever I’m with Becker. Whether that time with him is driving me around the bend or driving me to unimaginable depths of desire. It’s all explosive. Every moment is consuming. I’m taken by him. Completely taken. It’s like a fog has evaporated. He’s right. I can’t live on what ifs. I can’t live my whole life so cautiously. It’ll defeat the whole point of me breaking away from the constraints of my old life in Helston. What if this could be something fucking incredible? What if this is where my life’s journey was meant to take me? To him?
I look Becker in the eye, and something happens. The level of understanding that slowly creeps on to his face makes me believe he’s read my mind. Absorbed my thoughts. Comprehended them all. I hope he has. His eyes roam my face in wonder. ‘You’re not and never will be nothing to me, Eleanor Cole. You, I need to keep close. You, I want to see every day. I’m hungry for your smiles. I’m desperate for your smart mouth. I feel amazement and deep respect for your knowledge, talent, and love of all things at The Haven. And all who live there. I’m in awe of your talent for winding me up. You keep me on my toes, and I love it. Every minute is a surprise with you, I never know what to expect, and for a thrill-seeker like me, that’s really saying something.’ He reaches for me and wraps his arm around my shoulders. He holds me tightly, like he’s found something he never wants to let go of. ‘I’m fucking addicted to you. I need to understand what this is.’
‘That makes two of us,’ I murmur, staring ahead to the window where I can see the picture of Mum and me. I’m fucking addicted to you, too, Becker. And all those words just now have floored me.
I absolutely need to understand what this is too.
Chapter 23
I pack a few sets of clothes to take to Becker’s, unsure of how long I’ll be staying at The Haven, at the same time wondering how long it might take him to understand what’s happening. And what happens when he does? Do I even understand myself? Of course I do. I’m exposing myself to the potential of falling for someone I shouldn’t be falling for.
I leave Becker on the couch, engrossed in his phone, and spend five minutes in my bathroom sitting on the toilet looking at the photograph of Dad and me. Words run riot in my mind. So many words, but the strongest one is sorry. I’m apologising to him, but for what I don’t know. Abandoning his shop? Abandoning Mum? For loving my new, thrilling life in London? Or for getting caught up in Becker’s web of corruption?
Who knows. But I’m sorry.
Once I gather the strength to leave the bathroom, I grab the picture of Mum and me, checking for cracks on the glass before putting it safely in my