Chapter 25

I was unable to keep myself from blushing. “I’m not his girlfriend.”

“Yet.” Ryder and Benjamin said simultaneously.

“Oh, so the conceitedness runs in the family?” I asked with a roll of my eyes.

“I’m afraid so. Now, tell me more about yourself.”

“Well, I like playing soccer a lot. And if I were to choose between my books and human beings, then I choose books. Also, I think your brother is annoying and has too big of an ego. But wanna know something?”

He nodded.

I stopped the car at the traffic light and turned back to him.

Leaning into his ear, I whispered loud enough for Ryder to hear, “I think I like him.”

The art of breaking hearts is an inscrutable, prepossessing, abstract art. Never ever will you go through with breaking someone’s heart without having your own broken. And it would be very eccentric if one did not go through the process of having their own heart shattered into millions of pieces when trying to do the same to another.

“I don’t think I’ve ever gone partying with another team after we beat them.”

Being in an actual club was a good feeling. Compared to a frat party, clubs were much more tame and depending on what area you were in, you could actually hold a conversation. I hated raging clubs with music so loud you couldn’t think, but this one was actually pretty nice. Remember what I had said about Beckett not wasting a second off the ice? It seems he was perfectly fine because that nasty gash in his side didn’t stop him from playing hockey or going out after the game.

“Sunshine?” Beck mused, returning to our table with two identical beers in hand. He sat next to me at the booth, handing me a dark bottle. “I believe I still owe you a good beer, if I remember correctly. Kentucky Breakfast Stout, straight from Grand Rapids. Right up your alley.” I smiled, recalling how our first conversation was about having a nice deep beer.

The first thing I noticed was that my bottle was sealed and Beck’s wasn’t.

Beckett offered me a reassuring smile, pulling his keys out of his pocket and handing them to me. I returned the grateful look and popped the top off. It was a small gesture, asking the bartender to keep once sealed, and I trusted Beck impeccably not to mess with my drink, but it still made me feel warm inside. He really did care about me. I took a sip of the chilled liquid, letting the coffee and vanilla notes run down my throat, a hint of bourbon in the undertone. “You definitely know how to make a girl happy,” I laughed. “I like your taste.”

“I knew you would,” Beck offered me a cheeky wink. He leaned over, whispering in my ear with his deep voice, “I like your taste too.” It didn’t take a genius to get what he was insinuating, especially with his free hand on my thigh. I was wearing yet another pair of ripped jeans but this time I paired them with a sheer black top and a black bra with black heels. I looked hot as fuck and Beck was well Aware.

“Beck, you got a girlfriend and didn’t tell us?” Elijah asked with a raised eyebrow, drinking a Long Island iced tea.

“Nah. They casually flirt. You’ll get used to it,” Sebastian jumped in. Axel has stayed at the hotel, but I assume that had more to do with the fact that Coach was riding his ass after getting in a fight on the ice when he was checked without having the puck. I don’t blame him. Besides, he was probably FaceTiming Ken anyway.

“Fuck off, Sebastian,” I playfully punched his shoulder to my left.

“And no, Ben. That doesn’t mean she wants your drunk ass to flirt with her,” Beck laughed at his friend. Ben was an attractive Cambodian but I just wasn’t feeling it. Probably because I was in love with my best friend, but that’s beside the point.

“I’m not drunk,” Ben pointed his finger at Beck from across the table, a dead serious look in his eyes.

“In the time it took for all of us to have one shot of tequila and even start thinking about a drink you’ve had three. You’re well on your way to plastered, Buddy.” Elijah joked, bumping shoulders with his companion. I’d only been with the two of them for an hour but I could already see their similarities to Sebastian, Axel, and I. Our sense of humor was almost identical; it was no wonder Beck fit in with us so well when he moved to Connecticut.

“And are you the poor guy that’s roommates with his sorry ass?” I asked Elijah with a raised eyebrow.

“Sadly,” the blonde muttered in response. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and he'll get drunk and call his girlfriend then she’ll let him stay with her. I could do without the

Sound of him puking his guts out in a few hours.”

“If you want to make him feel better, I’m a professional at throwing up a bottle of vodka. It’s a talent to even get half a bottle down, really.” Beck nor Sebastian found the joke very funny and both simultaneously kicked my shins causing me to wince and subtlety elbow Seb back in the ribs. I looked at Beck and muttered to him, “You’re lucky Elijah sliced your abs open or you would have a softball sized bruise by tomorrow.”

“I love it when you get aggressive with me, Baby,” Beck teased sarcastically.

“I honestly can’t tell if you two are the type of friends that desperately want to fuck each other or joke around like this because you’d never even think of actually hooking up,” Elijah pointed out with Ben nodding in agreement.

“Knowing Beck it’s the first,” Ben

Snorted.

“Oh, fuck you. Don’t act like you were Saint Mary before you met Ella,” Beck scoffed teasingly.

“I’ll put an end to this argument right now,” Sebastian chimed in, making me nervous. “It’s the first and it always will be. I swear I have to listen before I walk into my apartment, because a few weeks ago I was sure they were having sex.”

“Which we weren’t,” I pointed out, glaring at Sebastian. “I was doing PT for my dislocated hip, so don’t even try it, Seb.”

“That’s what they all say,” he teased. Beck reached his arm around my shoulders and slapped the back of Sebastian’s head. Seb turned and hit his hand away, his eyes stopping in a girl at the bar. “Hey, Danny. You have your own room right?”

Now he wants to be nice to me.

“Yeah,” I exhaled, already knowing where this was going. What are friends for, right?

“Good. I’ll pay you thirty bucks to sleep in Beck and I’s room if you give me your key.”

“Fine. Thirty bucks is half a new pair of shoes.” I pulled my room key out of my front pocket where my ID and credit card where. “Touch my shit and I’ll kill you.”

“Won’t be a problem,” Seb plucked the blue hotel room card from between my fingers and got up from his side of the booth. “See you losers later.” With that the tall figure that was my best friend disappeared to go flirt with the Hispanic woman at the bar.

“I swear his dick is going to fall off, and that’s coming from me,” I said to no one in particular.

“You like to have a little fun?” Elijah flirted jokingly with a raised eyebrow.

“Not with you,” I laughed back when he cracked a smile. I suggestively wiggled my eyebrows, “but if you know any law students besides this asshole, sign me up.”

“What about a doctor?” Elijah joked. I knew I shouldn’t have tensed, but I did anyway. It was subtle, but Beck noticed and gave my thigh a squeeze. Seb was going to be a doctor and he didn’t scare me. Then again, I’ve known Seb for years. It was a gut reaction that I couldn’t help.

Beck nodded at his friend. “He played hockey freshman year then took a two year leave of absence to serve as a combat medic in Iraq and Kuwait. I met him sophomore year when he returned to finish his degree before he goes to medical school to be a trauma surgeon.”

Beck’s touch relaxed me more than his words. At least I knew Elijah’s comment wasn’t malicious. I swallowed the lump in my throat and smiled slightly. “Thank you for your service,” I spoke honestly as Elijah flashed me a smile. Beside him, Ben was looking a little worse for wear and suddenly very tired. “Do you get pushed through medical school faster because of your background?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Sadly not. But it does make the classes easier. I suppose the ‘See one, do one, teach one’ aspect will come more naturally too. Not many freshman in medical school know how to fix a bullet wound or preserve a detached limb,” Elijah shrugged. I could tell there was pain in his eyes thinking about where he hand learned those skills from. Things no one should have to see. I felt bad for him. I knew what PTSD felt like, even if they had different causes. Maybe Elijah was lucky though, and

He was one of the few trauma medics without PTSD. I wouldn’t assume either way, but I knew many of the doctors had it worse mentally.

Luckily, the tension didn’t hang in the air because Ben made a face and stood up suddenly, b-lining from the table toward what I assume was the bathroom. Elijah exhaled and rolled his eyes. “I should go make sure he doesn’t get into a drunk fight or drown in the toilet. I’ll be back,” he muttered to us, standing from the table.

“Good luck,” Beck and I echoed with humor in our tones. As soon as he was sure Elijah was gone, Beckett turned to me and looked me in the eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have mentioned Elijah was a medical student.”

“Seb’s a medical student too. It’s not your job to protect me from every little thing that might impact my feelings. It’s just life, Beckett.”

“I know,” he spoke softly, but still loud enough for me to hear. I was so lost in his icy blue, almost grey looking eyes under the dim light that I almost missed what he said to me. “I just don’t like to see you in pain. You’re an amazing woman that’s been through enough; you don’t deserve it.”

“No one deserves it, Beck.”

“I know. But it hurts my heart a little extra when it’s you.” Beck looked away from me and took a sip of his beer. I watched intently as he swallowed the chilled liquid, suddenly being way too turned on just by looking at his tanned neck and sharp jaw. This man’s profile was amazing.

I tried to shake off the feeling inside of me by changing the subject, “How’d you know I’d like this?” I gestured to the bottle in my right hand before bringing it to my lips.

“You’re addicted to coffee, you only ever eat vanilla flavored yogurt and ice cream, and you like dark drinks. It was a win-win situation,” he shrugged like it was no big deal. A man that knows you taste is everything. God, I wanted Beck so bad but I couldn’t fucking have him. There was too much riding on my career. Besides, we have less than four months until graduation. That’s not enough time to build a stable relationship that’s ready to go long distance. Beck was as close to me as Seb and I couldn’t lose him. Not after everything I’d told him and everything he’d helped me through. A breakup would hurt too much and I honestly don’t know if I would eve survive it. I still had a vodka problem, if you didn’t notice.

“Well, you have good taste in food.”

Beck laughed and shook his head. “I just have good taste in women.” When he turned and looked at me, I became keenly aware that his hand was still on my right thigh. Beck’s intense gaze

Made it impossible for me to look away all over again. I felt like he could read my mind and see how conflicted I was. “Let me kiss you, Danny,” he murmured, his other hand coming to cup my jaw.

“Beck, we can’t-“

“You have yourself convinced you don’t want me, but that changes as soon as my head’s between your legs,” his deep voice vibrated through my ears, ringing in my brain over and over again like a fire alarm. I wasn’t convinced. I knew I wanted him, but I couldn’t have him.

Beck just wanted me for sex, anyway. All we did was have sex, he never hinted that he wanted a date or a relationship, even when we first talked about fateful night. “Not everything is about sex, no matter how much I like you between my legs.”

“Says the girl who sleeps in my

Arms every night to feel safe,” Beck murmured. His fingers along my jaw cupped my face, holding me close to him. “We’re in a dark nightclub in a different state at midnight, surrounded by people dancing or too plastered to stand. Let me kiss you, Danny. No one has to know.”

I was only making this harder for myself in the long run, but I couldn’t control myself. I put my hands around Beck’s strong neck and pressed my lips to his without hesitation. My mouth craved Beckett’s like it was an addiction; no matter how bad I knew it was for me and how much pain it caused, I had to have it or I would explode in frustration and angst.

I moved my lips feverishly against Beck’s at first, tasting the delicious beer on both our lips as Beck’s hands creeped to my hips, pulling my leg over his own so I was straddling him. ‘I shouldn’t be doing this’ echoed in my head, but I easily ignored it, too drunk

On Beck’s touch to be bothered. The kiss slowed into a more seductive and passionate one almost instantly as I cupped the smooth sides of his jaw.

Beck’s teeth held my bottom lip playfully as I pulled my head away slowly, looking down into his eyes. He was looking back at me like he thought I was going to pull back, but was pretending I wasn’t. He was wrong; I had a taste of my weakness but I haven’t had my fill yet.

I kissed him again, with more intoxicating body movements. My hips were pressed against his waist, my breasts against his chest and my knees on the booth. I felt his tongue in my mouth as I made a delight filled sound, too quiet to be considered a moan. Beckett’s hands lowered slightly, gripping my ass as he kissed me. I loved the feeling of his hands on my ass more than any guy I had ever been with. Something about it got me excited in a way that probably wasn’t healthy.

I was going to pull back, but was pretending I wasn’t. He was wrong; I had a taste of my weakness but I haven’t had my fill yet.

Beckett Sampson was going to be the death of me, but I had already accepted me fate.