Just Watch the Fireworks

by Monica Alexander

  In truth, he was right. Once Ryan was back in Boston, I would probably spend most of my time with him. I just didn’t want to admit that out loud. It sort of made me a weird mix of happy and sad at the same time.

  Beckett gave me a look that he didn’t believe what I’d said either.

  “I’ll make time for you,” I promised. “Although, not next weekend. Ryan’s coming back for the Fourth of July, so I’ll be with him. But we can definitely make plans for next week.”

  Beckett pulled his arms back and crossed them over his chest. “He’s coming back this weekend?” he asked, and I could hear the disappointment in his voice.

  I nodded.

  He didn’t say anything, so I wasn’t sure what was going on in that head of his. Before I could ask, he went back to the bar stool, sat down and poured the rest of the pitcher into his glass. We played the rest of the game in silence, and it wasn’t even that fun when I actually won. Beckett was in a bad mood, and I wasn’t sure how to get him out of it, especially since it was partially my fault.

  As we walked back to his apartment, I took his hand in mine as a way to tell him I wasn’t going anywhere. He didn’t say anything. He just laced his fingers with mine. When we got to his front steps, I waited while he fished in his pocket for his keys. I noticed how the streetlight overhead illuminated his face, his hair framing it like a halo.

  It was then that I lost all sense of reality. It was like I suddenly forgot to think. Reason went completely out the window, as I walked up one step higher than him, so we were face to face, put my hands on either side of his face, leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.

  His lips were warm and so familiar that I fell back three years in that moment as I remembered what it had always been like to kiss him. It had been perfect. It took him a few seconds before he reacted, but then he was kissing me back. I wound my fingers into his hair, as he put his arms around me, pulling me to him. It was pure bliss until he abruptly pulled away.

  “No,” he said firmly, taking a step backward, so he was too far away to kiss.

  So many thoughts were flying through my brain in that moment as the realization of what I’d done and who would get hurt if they found out about it came crashing down on me. But when I opened my mouth to say something, all that came out was, “What? Why?”

  It was like my mouth had a mind of its own. There it was, kissing people it shouldn’t be kissing and asking the wrong questions. I needed it to stop.

  “Because I can’t do this,” Beckett said firmly, shaking his head slightly.

  “But, why? I don’t understand. I thought you liked me?” It was like word-vomit. I couldn’t control it. Why was I saying these things?

  He looked at me exasperated, his eyes flashing. “Are you kidding me?!”

  “Wait. Let’s talk about this,” I said, for reasons unknown to me. “You’ve been flirting with me all night. Shit, let’s try all week. I thought this was what you wanted?”

  Had I been more coherent in that moment, I may have realized what was happening, but it was all so confusing, and I couldn’t think straight.

  “No, that’s not what I want. That was a mistake. You shouldn’t have done it,” Beckett snapped. “It’s obvious that you’ve made your choice, and it isn’t me. You’re engaged to someone else, so you probably want to think twice before you go around kissing other people.”

  His words slapped me across the face, but they succeeded in waking me up. I was engaged. I was engaged to Ryan, and now I was cheating on him.

  “Shit, Beckett,” I said, putting my head in my hands as the tears started flowing. “I’m so sorry.”

  He didn’t say anything for a minute, but then I felt him put his arm around me and pull me into his chest. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice soft. “Shit. I’m sorry, too.”

  “No, I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “I’m just so confused right now.”

  “What are you confused about?” he asked, as he stroked my back.

  “Everything,” I mumbled into his chest.

  It was suddenly like I was spinning, emotions flying out of nowhere. I felt like I couldn’t wrap my head around what was happening. I literally felt out of control.

  “It’s the beer,” he said stroking my hair. “I get it. Come on. Let’s get your stuff, so you can go home.”

  All I could do was nod, as I followed him upstairs to get my laptop. He waited for a cab with me but didn’t even hug me before I got inside. I rode away wondering how badly I’d screwed up my friendship with him. I’d come to rely on him, and I might have just ruined everything.

  Twenty

  What the hell was I thinking? I asked myself a hundred times after Sunday night. I had kissed Beckett. I’d crossed that invisible line that I swore I wouldn’t cross. What the hell was wrong with me? To make matters worse, I had been right in assuming that I’d killed my friendship with him. We hadn’t talked all week which was not like us at all. Since we’d started hanging out again, we hadn’t gone twenty-four hours without speaking. I missed him so much, but I wasn’t about to call him.

  On Friday night I was sitting on my couch wondering what I would tell Ryan when I saw him the next day. He would be home for our Fourth of July party, and I fought with myself whether or not I should tell him what had happened with Beckett. I’d kept quiet about the kiss all week when we’d talked, but I knew I needed to tell him in person. I needed to come clean, regardless of the outcome. I couldn’t very well marry someone I’d been dishonest with. I was terrified of what the overall conclusion would be once he found out that what he’d suspected all along had come true.

  As I sat there pondering my future, my apartment buzzer went off, pulling me out of my thoughts.

  “Hello?” I asked into the intercom, wondering who it could be coming by my apartment at ten o’clock at night. Summer was at Patrick’s house, so it wasn’t him.

  “It’s me,” Beckett said into the speaker box.

  “Hey,” I said, and knew how surprised I sounded. My heart started to pound when I heard his voice, and I realized how nervous I was to see him.

  “Can I come up?” he asked. He sounded like shit.

  I didn’t answer. I just buzzed him up, then paced anxiously as I waited for him to knock on my front door. When he knocked, I opened the door, stepped back and let him walk into the apartment. Neither of us said anything for a full minute. I finally sat down on the couch as he paced in front of the muted TV. Then, after the suspense nearly killed me, Beckett broke the ice.

  “I have a paper due on Tuesday,” he said. “But, I can’t concentrate on anything right now. I brought movies. Do you want to watch one?”

  “Ok-ay,” I said, drawing out the word, confused by his question.

  We hadn’t spoken in nearly a week, and he just wanted to watch a movie? I watched him walk to the couch and sit down at the opposite end. He set three movies down in front of him.

  “You can pick,” he said, and I could see the agitation in his body language.

  As I watched him, I realized my heart was almost pounding out of my chest. I couldn’t remember a time when I had been this nervous around him. I watched him run his hand through his hair and take a deep breath, waiting for me to choose between Sideways, Signs, and Swingers.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. He was really out of sorts. “You okay?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Nope. Definitely not.”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, getting up and sitting across from him on the coffee table. I knew what was wrong, but I needed to hear it from him. Consider me a glutton for punishment.

  “You kissed me,” he said, his eyes fixed on a point on the wall behind my head.

  I swallowed hard. It was different hearing it said out loud versus in my head. It made the whole thing seem more real. In response to his question, I just nodded.

  He brought his gaze back to me, looking me in the eyes. “Where you just drunk or did you really want to kiss me?” he asked.

  I bi
t my lip, not sure how to respond. All week I’d asked myself the same thing. After a few seconds of pondering, I said, “A little of both?”

  He nodded. “I know I’ll probably regret saying this, but honestly, I’m not sorry you did it. That probably makes me a shitty person because you have a fiancé, and I shouldn’t want to kiss you, but I did. I do. You were right. I’m an asshole.”

  He stared at me, waiting for my reaction.

  “You’re not an asshole,” I said, taking his hand in mine. “You are incredibly sweet and funny and smart and–”

  “Sexy,” he said, and I could tell he was trying to lighten the mood.

  “Yes, sexy,” I said, and he smiled.

  He took my other hand, laced our fingers together and pulled me toward him so our knees and thighs wove together.

  “I made a huge mistake,” he said, looking at me intensely. Then he gaze dropped to his lap, and my heart started to ache for him. I could literally see the pain on his face.

  “Beck, it’s okay. We kissed. It’s not a big deal. Please don’t beat yourself up over this. We can still be friends.”

  He looked up at me again. “Friends. Great. Just what I want – to be your friend. Thanks.”

  I reached out and ran my fingers through his hair. I wasn’t sure where the need to do that came from, but suddenly it felt so natural. He leaned his head to the side, so it was resting on my hand. His eyes were closed, but I could still see the hurt all over his face.

  “I miss you,” he said.

  “Beck, I’m right here,” I said, scooting closer to him, so he would know I was there.

  His eyes flew open and his head snapped up. He looked at me, fire in his eyes. “No, Courtney. You don’t get it. I miss you. I miss us.” He shook his head again. “I feel like I made a huge mistake. I get that you weren’t ready to get engaged when I asked, but I never should have ended things with us. That was the stupidest thing I have ever done, and I’ve regretted it every day since.”

  I could see his eyes well up with tears.

  “What hurts the worst,” he said, wiping under his eyes, “is that you got engaged to someone else. So now it makes me think that it was me, and maybe I wasn’t enough for you or maybe you just didn’t love me enough and that just sucks, because I fucking love you, Courtney. You are the only girl who has ever meant anything to me, and I’m so pissed that I screwed up what we had.”

  I reached up and wiped away one of the tears that had fallen down his cheek.

  “I don’t know what you see in this guy, but I can tell you that he doesn’t get you like I get you. He doesn’t love you like I did – like I do. As much as it kills me to do this, I don’t think we can hang out anymore. I can’t stand by and be your friend while you marry someone else, because being your friend will never be enough for me. That kiss the other night brought back too many memories that I tried so hard to forget, and I can’t go through that again. I can’t do it.”

  I took a deep breath as everything he said sunk in, and I realized how he felt about me. He sniffed and wiped the back of his hand across his cheek.

  “Please say something,” he said.

  I didn’t say anything. I just took his hand in mine and laid it over my heart that was still pounding wildly in my chest. I wasn’t sure why I did it, or where my logic went in that particular moment. Maybe I wanted him to know that he wasn’t alone in the way he felt and that the kiss had reignited something in me, as well. I didn’t know for sure. I just reacted. Beckett looked at me as if he was unsure what I was doing. I met his gaze, locking my eyes with his, a serious expression on my face.

  “This is what you do to me,” I said. “I’m engaged to someone else, but this is the effect you have on me.”

  In that moment, I knew I was putting everything on the line. What I was doing went against everything I had ever promised Ryan. It challenged everything I had ever felt for him. If I hadn’t been before, I was at that moment an active, willing participant in whatever was happening between Beckett and me. I was totally conscious and aware that by taking this step, I was possibly changing the course of the future that I’d laid out for myself when I’d said yes to Ryan.

  I locked eyes with Beckett, reached over with my right hand and pulled my engagement ring off of my finger. I slowly set it on the coffee table next to me, my eyes never leaving his. It was then that Beckett leaned over so slowly that at first I didn’t realize what was happening, but even after I did, I didn’t stop him. I let him lightly touch his lips to mine. I didn’t protest when his kisses got hungrier and more passionate. I never once told him to stop.

  Then in a flash Ryan’s face suddenly popped into my head, and I sprang back from Beckett like he’d shocked me. My gaze shot to my ring, sitting on the coffee table, so sad and alone. What would Ryan say if he knew what I was doing in that moment?

  “Shit,” I said, burying my face in my hands.

  I could feel Beckett watching me for a few seconds before he said, “Okay, so I guess that’s my cue.”

  I felt him get up as he stepped over my legs. He was halfway across the room when I looked up and said, “Don’t go.”

  I knew it was wrong. I knew what I was getting myself into and how wrong it was on so many levels, but I couldn’t just let him leave. I couldn’t let him walk out the door.

  “Okay,” he said hesitantly, stopping in mid-stride and turning to face me. “Are you sure?”

  I looked up at him and nodded. “This is so wrong,” I said. “But I don’t want you to go.”

  “I don’t want to go either,” he said, as he stared at me from across the room.

  “Then stay,” I said, getting up and crossing the room to him. “Please.”

  I looked up into his warm brown eyes and saw a guy that I knew better than I knew myself, whom I had loved for so many years. He put his hands on either side of my face, cupping it as he brought his lips down to meet mine. This time neither of us pulled away.

  He kissed me gently, again and again until I felt his intensity increase. I kissed him back hungrily, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing against him. When he finally broke the kiss, both of us were breathing rapidly. I smiled up at him as he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, leaned down and kissed me again.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, his mouth against my lips.

  I pulled back and looked up at him. “I’m not sure of anything anymore,” I said, and then I took his hand and led him back to my bedroom.

  I sat down on the edge of my bed. When he sat beside me it felt so much like when we were in high school that it felt normal. The only thing missing was Counting Crows playing in the background. I had half a mind to turn on my iPod, but I didn’t want to break the spell we were under. Instead I reached over and took Beckett’s hand in mine, lacing our fingers together. He looked over at me, and I could see on his face how cautious he was being. I knew he wouldn’t do anything that I didn’t initiate.

  That was my moment. I could tell him to leave, and no more harm would be done. I could tell him I needed to be faithful to Ryan. Or I could jump in with both feet and hope I landed on soft ground. Before I could think, I took his face in mine, and looked into his eyes. His expression was so intense, and I could see how raw and exposed he felt after telling me everything he was feeling. All I could think about was making him feel secure and helping him to know that I wasn’t going anywhere. I kissed him softly on the lips a few times as his hands moved to my waist, holding me tight. I ran my hands through his hair, and he smiled.

  “I really do love your hair this length,” I said.

  “I’ve been thinking about cutting it,” he said.

  I shook my head. “Don’t you dare. It is incredibly sexy.”

  Then I crushed my lips to his and pushed him back on the bed. I trailed kisses all the way down his jawline and heard his breathing quicken as his hands moved under my shirt and up my back, his hands on my skin.

  “What if Summer comes home?”
he asked.

  “She won’t. She’s at Patrick’s for the night,” I said breathlessly, as I kissed his neck. “But, just in case.”

  I got up, shut my bedroom door and locked it. I smiled at Beckett as I made my way back to him. He was propped up on his elbows, watching me the whole way. I lay down next to him, my left leg draped over his, as I traced his jawline with my index finger. I ran my finger down his chest to his stomach, lifting his shirt, so I could tuck the tips of my fingers just underneath the waistband of his jeans. He responded by bringing his lips to mine, as he rolled us over so he was on top. I reached up and tugged at his t-shirt, lifting it up over his head, exposing his bare chest and stomach.

  “Damn,” I said, taking in his half-naked body that was bathed in the moonlight coming in through my open window.

  He just laughed as he bent down to kiss me again. I hadn’t realized how quick my breathing had gotten, or how fast Beckett was breathing, until he pulled up. His forehead was slightly damp, and he was trying to bring his breathing back to normal.

  He touched his forehead to mine, his hair tickling the sides of my face and asked, “What are we doing, Court?”

  “I don’t know,” I said softly.

  “I really should go,” he said then, rising up slightly.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I said, as I pulled him back down, so I could kiss him again.

  He didn’t resist. Ever so slightly, he moved his lips, so he was kissing my jaw, my neck and my collarbone. I breathed in deeply. I missed this. I’d missed him.

  He brought his lips back to mine and kissed me deeper than he had before. I wove my fingers into his hair in an attempt to keep his lips on mine. After a few minutes, he pulled back and looked at me again. This time, he wasn’t smiling. His expression was grave.

  “I’m going to regret this,” he said. “I know I’m running the risk of getting hurt again, because there’s going to come a point where you’re going to push me away. It’s inevitable, but I can’t stay away from you any longer.”

  I didn’t know how to respond to that. I wasn’t ready to respond to that, so I just kept kissing him.