“Sure,” John said, and he proceeded to give me directions before hugging me goodbye.
***
“Julie,” I said, almost smacking into the girl I’d told John I was having lunch with, as I walked into the history building.
“Courtney,” Julie said, a dark look suddenly clouding her face. “What are you doing here?” Her tone had a territorial vibe to it that told me she wasn’t happy I was on her turf.
“I’m actually auditing Beckett’s class,” I said, trying to be cheerful. “Do you work in this building?”
She straightened up. “No, I was actually just talking with Beckett. We were making plans for Friday night,” she said, and I could tell she was trying to get a rise out of me.
I raised my eyebrows but tried to keep my expression neutral. Beckett hadn’t mentioned Julie in a while, but it seemed like they might be seeing each other again.
“Really?” I asked, keeping my voice level.
“Yeah,” she said, haughtily. “We started seeing each other again last week. We’re keeping things casual for now, but we’ll see.”
I was having a hard time figuring out which emotion to go with. On one hand, I wanted to laugh out loud, but on the other hand, I sort of wanted to slap her. She didn’t have to be such a bitch. I’d never been anything but nice to her.
“That’s great, Julie,” I said. “I’m really happy for you guys.”
“Are you?” she challenged, and it took everything in me not to tell her the truth about how Beckett felt about me.
“Yes, I am,” I said, politely.
“Good,” she said, and smiled widely at me. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
With that, she pushed past me, bumping me with her elbow. I spun around and faced her. “Hey, Julie,” I called out.
She turned to face me. “Yeah?”
“It would be great, if you’d stay off my blog. I think you made your point. And now that you have Beckett back, you should really keep your nasty comments to yourself. I’d hate to think what he’d do if he knew it was you who posted those things about me. We’re really close.”
“Huh?” she said, looking sincerely confused. She was a pretty good actor.
“Thanks,” I said, ignoring her feigned ignorance. Before she could respond, I walked into the history building, leaving her outside.
***
“Alright, so talk to me about the reading from last night. The Colonization of North America. What did you think?” Beckett asked the room, as I stepped into the lecture hall.
He looked up and smiled at me as I took a seat in the back, closest to the door, before he focused his attention on a student in the front row who had her hand up.
“Yes, Jenny,” he said, briefly looking down at something on his clipboard.
Jenny, a seemingly eager girl with long blond hair, launched into her theory. It was immediately countered by a heavy-set black guy two rows in front of me. They went back and forth for a few minutes before Beckett took back control over the discussion.
He looked like a professor with his adorable glasses, navy blazer and white button down shirt, although he did have jeans on which made him look like the guy I knew so well. All throughout his class, I watched mesmerized as he lectured without sounding preachy, made the information fun and let his students participate in the discussion. No matter how radical the opinion, he never shut anyone down. He listened, asked thought-provoking questions and challenged them to think about certain things in different ways. I was captivated.
At the end of the lecture, the heavy-set guy who had spoken when I’d first arrived spent ten minutes talking to Beckett about an upcoming assignment while I waited, taking the seat Jenny had vacated in the front row. Beckett patiently answered the guy’s questions and helped him to understand the goals of the project.
Finally, the guy picked his backpack up off the floor and turned to leave the room. “Thanks Mr. Ryland,” he said, turning around before heading up the stairs.
“Anytime Anton. Remember, I have office hours on Fridays from three to five if you need to come by,” Beckett said.
Anton just nodded as he trudged up the stairs.
I stood up and crossed over to where Beckett was standing, smiling at me.
“What did you think?” he asked, and I knew that for all the confidence he showcased, he really didn’t know how good of a professor he was. He was truly asking my opinion.
“Well, I am just about ready to go to Admissions and see if I can enroll here so I can get a degree in history,” I said, as little inappropriate feelings started stirring in me. “You were amazing.”
“Really?” he asked, a small smile creeping on his lips.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding vigorously. “I paid attention the whole time, and you know how I am with history. It is not my subject of choice.”
He just laughed. “Wow, thanks,” he said, finally. “That means a lot to me, Court.”
I folded my arms across my chest, swallowing back the urge I had to express the inappropriate things I was thinking in that moment. Part of me wanted to ask him to tutor me privately, but I bit my tongue. I did not need to be thinking things like that. Instead I just smiled back at him.
“You hungry?” he asked then.
“Starving,” I said. “Learning always makes me hungry.”
He laughed.
“So you’re seeing Julie again,” I asked as we walked to a nearby restaurant for lunch.
“Yeah,” Beckett said, and I could hear the guilt in his voice. “How did you know?”
“I ran into her,” I said. “She was more than happy to tell me all about how you’re back together. Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged. “It didn’t come up. We’ve only been out twice.”
“I thought you weren’t interested in her?”
“Look,” he said, turning to face me. “She’s a sweet girl. She’s smart, and she’s fun, and she doesn’t have a fiancé. Maybe I was a little hasty in not wanting to give her a chance before, because I thought I might have a chance with you, which I know was incredibly stupid.”
My face flushed red at his statement. “I’m sorry I led you on.”
He shook his head, dismissing my statement. “It’s fine. We can just be friends. I just want you to know that I’m not holding on anymore. I’m going to start dating.”
“Good for you,” I said, knowing it was the right thing to say.
“I figure, I’m young, I’m good-looking, and the ladies love me. I should be out there getting laid,” he said, and I burst out laughing, glad he had taken the conversation to a lighter place.
“That’s the spirit,” I said, giving him a light punch to the arm.
“I plan on having a lot of sex,” he said, as he put his arm around me. I just laughed, knowing he wasn’t serious.
Twenty-Six
Beckett and I met on Saturday morning to go running at the footbridge halfway between our apartments. I got there a few minutes early, so my eyes kept scanning the distance, waiting to see him. It was the first time I’d seen him since we’d had lunch after his class on Thursday. I’d worked all day on Friday and had been too exhausted to do much else besides order Thai food and watch TV with Summer that night, but I kept thinking about Beckett and how impressed I was by his class. I loved how passionate he was about his job and his students. He’d been on my mind a lot since Thursday.
When he finally appeared, jogging steadily toward me, I felt my adrenaline kick in, and I ran toward him.
“Hi!” I said, giving him a hug.
“You’re very energetic this morning,” he said, removing his ear buds.
“Yeah, well, I went to bed at nine o’clock last night, so I’m well-rested.”
“Not me,” he said, coyly. “It was date night with Julie.”
“Oh yeah,” I said, remembering his plans. “Did you get lucky?”
He just raised his eyebrows a few times. “Wouldn’t you love to know,” he teased, and I
just rolled my eyes.
“Come on, let’s run,” I said, feigning exasperation, as I put my ear buds back in.
He poked me in the ribs once, before putting his own ear buds back in and falling into step beside me. As we ran, I looked up at the sky as it stretched out in front of us. It was a brilliant blue to the south, but to the north, there were dark storm clouds threatening the city. It looked like my bright sunny day would turn out rainy after all. It was probably better that way. I did have laundry to do. I was in danger of running out of clothes to wear for work since it had been so long since I’d washed anything.
Running was easy that day, as I was in such a fantastic mood that I couldn’t explain. I’d just woken up happy, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was because I had plans to hang out with Beckett all day or if it really was because I was well-rested.
At our normal turnaround spot, Beckett asked me if I wanted to get breakfast at the same place we’d stopped when we’d first gone running. I told him I did, as it was a great excuse to spend more time with him, so we kept running until we got to the turn-off at BU. Beckett slowed to a cool down walk when we hit the sidewalk, so I followed suit. I was dreaming about peach pancakes when I felt his hand reach for mine. The gesture felt natural and I welcomed it, even though I had told him we needed to cool things off.
I must have looked over at him with a slight look of question on my face, because he asked, “Is this okay?”
I nodded and smiled at him. “Yeah, it is.”
The restaurant was crowded that morning, so we had to wait ten minutes for a table. While we waited, Beckett stood behind me and lightly rested his hands on my hips. It seemed that his usual need to be connected to me at all times matched the way I was feeling that morning. I felt like I couldn’t get enough of him. He took my hand again, when the hostess led us to our table, but let it go when we were seated.
I had just pulled out my menu when my phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID and felt instantly guilty. It was Ryan. I ignored the call. I hated to do it, but I just couldn’t talk to him then. I would call him back later when I was home. Beckett glanced up when he heard the phone ringing but didn’t say anything when he saw me hit the button to ignore the call. I was pretty sure he knew who it was, and I’m sure it didn’t feel good to him. I tried to push the thought from my mind, as I kept my eyes on my menu, reminding myself that he’d had a date and possibly sex with Julie the night before. He didn’t have a lot of room to talk.
Beckett took my hand across the table and linked our fingers together, playing with the palm of my hand, making me laugh. “So anything exciting happening with you next week?” he asked.
I took a deep, raggedy breath, thinking about what I really wanted to say, but ended up keeping those thoughts to myself. “Um, not really. Just work stuff. You?”
He didn’t answer. His gaze drifted over my shoulder, so I was inclined to turn around. My stomach lurched into my throat.
“Stacey,” I said, as I came face-to-face with my stepmother.
I immediately yanked my hand away from Beckett and leapt to my feet. I wondered if I’d moved quickly enough for her to miss the fact that we were holding hands.
“Courtney,” she said, as she hugged me. “And Beckett. You two sure look cozy.”
“Nothing’s going on,” I said quickly.
“Okay, whatever you say,” she said, her voice full of false cheer, and my heart sank. She knew I was lying. Of course she knew. She’d snuck around with my dad for a year before he told my mom he was cheating. Not that I was still cheating, but now she would think I was. Shit.
“Is Dad here?” I asked, looking around her to see if I could spot my father’s salt and pepper hair.
“No,” she said. “I was just getting brunch with a girlfriend.” She gestured to where her friend was sitting in the front corner of the restaurant.
“I . . . we’re . . . we were just,” I stammered, not able to make full sentences.
Stacey put her hand up to stop me. “No judgment, Court,” she said, and I knew she meant it. “I just wanted to say hi.”
“Please don’t tell my dad,” I said, and I wasn’t sure why. Was I afraid he would be disappointed in me? Pot/Kettle anyone?
“I won’t,” she said, “but call me later. You know, if you want to talk about anything.” She smiled at me. “Good to see you, Beckett.”
With that she went back to her friend.
“Busted,” Beckett said, and I just looked at him.
“Shut up. We weren’t doing anything wrong. We have nothing to get busted for.”
Beckett burst out laughing. “Is that honestly how you feel? Because if it is, you’re delusional.” He leaned back in his chair, appraising me. “If I was engaged to you, and you were holding hands with another guy, I probably wouldn’t be okay with it.”
I felt my shoulders sink. I was deluding myself. “I feel like such a jerk,” I said.
Beckett didn’t say anything. He just looked at me, letting me process what had just happened.
“I can’t believe I cheated on my fiancé,” I said, putting my head in my hands and then lifting it back up quickly. “I suck.”
Beckett just looked at me, and I knew he had something to say.
“What?” I asked, not wanting him to hold back.
He took a deep breath. “If you really wanted to be with him, you wouldn’t be here with me,” he said, matter-of-factly.
I just closed my eyes and shook my head, wondering how right he was and wondering what it meant for me and Ryan. In truth, I wanted to kiss Beckett. I wanted to do much more with Beckett, but I was afraid of losing Ryan. I was afraid of being with Beckett, who had left me in pieces before. I wasn’t sure I trusted that he wouldn’t do it again if things didn’t go his way. What if I picked him and one day, down the road, we decided to get married and he wanted kids, but I didn’t or wasn’t ready. Would he leave because he didn’t get his way? I didn’t think I wanted to put myself in a situation where there was a greater risk of that happening. Ryan loved me, he was safe, and he’d never left me.
“Hey, you know what,” Beckett said, sensing my change in mood. “Forget I said anything.”
It was then that Beckett started talking, telling me stories about his friends that got me laughing and sharing what he’d talked about during his lecture on Friday. By the end of breakfast, he had me smiling, and I’d forgotten why what I was doing with him was so wrong.
***
As soon as we hit the Esplanade after breakfast, Beckett took my hand. He continued to keep the conversation going as we walked, sharing some historical facts about the surrounding area. I was starting to find it just a little bit endearing, falling back under his spell that had captured me during his class. As we walked, I noticed that the storm clouds that had been threatening the city earlier were now right over the Charles River. We were in serious danger of getting soaked if we didn’t hurry up. I said something to Beckett, but he didn’t seem to think the clouds were heading our way. He just shrugged and asked me about the upcoming weddings I was planning. I loved that he showed interest in my job. Point for Beckett, I thought.
It wasn’t until we felt the first raindrops, that Beckett looked at me and said, “Uh oh. I guess I underestimated that one.”
The rain started falling steadily a few seconds later. We took off running toward the shelter of one of the footbridges up ahead. Beckett still had my hand as he tore through the drops. He reached the underside of the bridge first and yanked me under. I tripped slightly from the force and fell into his chest.
“Whoa,” he said, putting his arms around me to help brace me a little better. “Are you okay?”
I burst out laughing, so he joined in. I turned around to assess the situation once I was in control of myself again. The rain was pouring down all around us. It was hard to see ten feet outside of our hiding spot. It didn’t look like it would be slowing down anytime soon. I inhaled deeply. The smell of rain in the summer alw
ays got to me. It was one of my favorite seasonal smells, next to a wood fire in the winter and the leaves in the fall. I turned around and smiled at Beckett. He was looking down at me in wonder.
“The rain still gets to you, huh?”
I nodded, still smiling at him, loving that he remembered that I loved the rain. “I love it. It smells so clean and fresh.”
“You’re different today,” he said, stepping closer to me.
“How so?” I asked, looking up at him.
He shook his head, like he couldn’t pinpoint what he wanted to say. “You don’t like that I’m dating again, do you?” he asked, changing the subject.
I shook my head. “Not really. I’m sorry. I know that’s incredibly selfish, I can’t help it.”
I looked up at him, hoping he wouldn’t judge me too much. Water dripped from his hair. I reached up and ran my fingers through it. He smiled at me.
“I’m not a big fan of it either,” he said softly, as he smoothed some of my drenched hair off of my face. “But the girl I love doesn’t want to be with me.”
“I think you’re wrong,” I said quietly, locking my eyes with his.
“Really?” he asked, but it was a rhetorical question since he already knew the answer. “For the record, I didn’t sleep with Julie last night.”
I nodded, relief flooding through me with the knowledge that I hadn’t lost him. I smiled. “I’m glad.”
His hands cupped my face, and he lowered his lips slowly toward mine. I didn’t know if it was the rain, or how cute he looked all wet, or the fact that he’d said he loved me, but I didn’t stop him. Worse than that, I was all over him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, jumped up and wrapped my legs around his waist, kissing him all the while. His strong arms held me up, as he leaned against the wall of the bridge for support. His kisses increased with intensity, as he realized what I was doing. I ran my hands through his hair, tightening my grip on him. All I could think about was being with him.
He pulled back for a second and looked at me. He was wearing a crooked grin that said he both liked and questioned what we were doing.
Just Watch the Fireworks Page 24