Big Mistake Page 13

I reach out—literally reach my hand out as if to catch him, but of course he’s already too far away. In a moment he’ll be out the door, and then what? A madcap rom-com-style car chase back to … where? Would he go home? To Levi’s? Will I have to drive all over town? Pop into all the bars to see if he’s drowning his sorrows somewhere?

  “Beck,” Bri says, interrupting my ridiculous, shocked reverie. “Say something.”

  And I surge up out of my chair, calling his name in a shrill, panicky voice. “Garrett, wait!”

  Chapter 20

  Garrett

  I stop and turn back to see Beck rushing toward me, weaving between tables full of staring customers. She’s wearing a sweet floral top with layers that flutter as she moves, hurrying to my side. Her eyes are shining and she’s smiling, and I only have a second to think how beautiful she is before she throws herself into my arms. I bury my face in her hair and just take in the smell of her, the feeling of having my arms around her.

  “I can’t believe you,” she whispers against my ear. “Are you crazy to come here and do this?”

  I set her back from me a bit so I can look in her eyes. “Probably. Chances are excellent. But there wasn’t any other way. I couldn’t go to your house, I didn’t want to bother you at work—”

  “You’re a lunatic, an absolute lunatic.” There are tears in her eyes, but she’s obviously happy. “This is nuts.”

  “Beck, I—”

  “No, my turn,” she says. “I’ve missed you so much. So much it’s crazy—it’s made me crazy.”

  “Then we’re both crazy.” I kiss her, heedless of the audience of people, uncaring of anything but the way it feels to pull her against me and taste her mouth again.

  She kisses me back, but then pulls away and looks around shyly. “Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

  “Come home with me,” I say. “We can talk about … everything. Just you and me.”

  “I’d love that,” she says earnestly, taking my hand and leading me back to where Bri is sitting with their half-eaten dinners in front of her.

  “Hey, Bri,” I say.

  “Hey,” she says, laughing. “It’s good to see you.”

  “It’s good to be seen,” I say, nonsensically.

  “I want to leave with Garrett,” Beck says, picking up her purse, “but I drove my car.”

  Bri smiles. “Give me your car keys. I’ll handle it.”

  “How? Can you—”

  “I’m an adult, Beck. I can manage this.”

  Beck pulls her keys out and drops them on the table. “Thank you,” she says, and takes my hand again.

  And then we turn, together, and head for the door.

  ***

  I drive us to my house, feeling a bit dazed. Beck’s in the passenger seat, like she has been so many times, but everything is different. I have so many things to say to her—or, honestly, one really important thing, and the rest can flow from there.

  Fortunately, it’s only a few minutes before we’re pulling into my driveway. Both of my parents’ cars are gone, and I breathe a sigh of relief. They give me all the space I need—it helps that my room is set off from rest of the house the way it is—but this would be super awkward.

  I lead Beck inside and down the stairs, and turn to her, opening my mouth to start our long-overdue conversation.

  “Me, first,” she says. “I have to tell you I’m sorry—”

  “Oh my God, Beck, no—”

  “Yes. I only just figured it out tonight, with some help from Bri. I was trying to figure out the best way to tell you, but I would have been here soon, standing here telling you that I’ve been a brat.”

  I reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear. “You have not.”

  “I have,” she insists. “I didn’t tell you how I was feeling, and then I got mad at you for not knowing, and I punished you for weeks for not being who I wanted you to be, but I didn’t even give you a chance.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t want to argue about who was more wrong, Beck, but I did some really stupid things.”

  “Okay, yeah,” she says. “Yeah, we were both dumb. Almost even-steven. But I want you to know, I don’t blame you for any of it.” She tilts her head, considering. “Well, maybe the double date.”

  I groan and drop into the recliner near my bed. Reaching out, I grab her wrist and pull her into my lap, where I kiss her very thoroughly. “I’m sorry,” I say, when we come up for air. “That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I just wanted to get back to where we were—to get back on footing I could understand. You’ve been so important to me my whole life, and I was so afraid of losing that.”

  “Are you afraid of that now?” she asks.

  No,” I say, “because I’m not letting you go. No matter what. You’re stuck with me.”

  “That sounds great,” she whispers. “I want to be stuck with you.”

  “I’m not playing around,” I tell her. “I realized something really important on the boat that night, Beck. I’ve been going from girl to girl for years, never happy, never satisfied—because they weren’t you. It’s only you, and now that I’ve figured it out, I don’t want anything else. I wish I’d figured it out sooner.”

  She curls into me, wrapping her arms around my neck. “It doesn’t matter.”

  My body reacts about how you’d expect, starting to pay attention to the warm, sweet-smelling woman in my arms. “Beck—”

  “Really.” She kisses me lightly, then again, a little harder. “It doesn’t matter. This is what matters, us here together. Like we’re supposed to be.”

  I run my hands up and down her arms, and feel goosebumps rise under my fingers. “Like we’re supposed to be.”

  She catches one of my hands and presses it against her breast. Her nipple is hard under the fabric of her little fairy shit. “I want you to touch me,” she says, her voice throaty with desire.

  I swallow. “This isn’t why I brought you here,” I say. “I just wanted to talk to you in private.”

  “Then you’re a fool.” She arches her back slightly, and her breast settles into my hand. I run my thumb over that hard nipple, and her breath hitches. “The minute you suggested it, I knew what I wanted.”

  “What do you want, Beck?” I squeeze, watching her eyes lose focus for a moment.

  “I want you to touch me,” she breathes. “I’ve thought about that night in Boston so many times, and I thought you would never touch me again. Please.”

  I stand, swinging her into my arms and carrying her the few steps to the bed, where I lay her down and drink her in with my eyes. Her hair fans out across the pillow, just like it did that first time, in the hotel. There’s no moonlight here, just the dim light beside the bed, but her skin glows in that light as she lifts her arms and I move into them, sinking down on top of her.

  And then my mouth is on hers again, and my cock is straining against the front of my jeans as she wraps her arms around me and arches up to press her body against mine. I slip my hands up under her shirt and cup a breast in each hand, flicking my thumbs over the hard, insistent nipples. She inhales sharply then practically purrs my name on the exhale. All the blood drains out of my head. I push her shirt up and replace my hands with my mouth, feasting on her firm sweet breasts, using my tongue and my teeth until she’s got both hands fisted in my hair and her breath is coming in short, sharp gasps.

  I reach down and unbutton her pants, sliding my hand inside. She moans as I stroke her, and I bring my mouth back to hers and catch her lower lip between my teeth.

  “I like the sounds you make when I do that,” I say, pressing my thumb firmly against her.

  She shivers. “It’s almost too much,” she whispers.

  “You said you wanted me to touch you,” I tell her, peeling her pants down over her long, long legs, “and that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “It’s not just about me,” she says.

  “Yes, it is. Tonight, it is. Quiet down and let me take care of y
ou.”

  Levi was right. The urge to care for Beck, to keep her safe and happy—I can do that, and still have her for mine. Forever.

  And forever starts right now.

  Chapter 21

  Rebecca

  My head is swimming. My pulse is pounding. I’m surrounded by the smell of Garrett, swamped by the sensations of his hands and mouth on me.

  He kisses a path down my body, settling between my thighs. I tense in anticipation; his tongue sweeps across me and I can feel my legs shaking. When he slips two fingers inside me, moving them in tandem with his tongue, I just about explode. My whole body is shaking now, and I can hear myself moaning as though it’s coming from somewhere outside of myself.

  Then he curls his fingers, the same way he did that night at the Monroe, and I come apart at the seams. My body clenches around his fingers and I gasp out his name as an orgasm crashes over me like a tsunami.

  I’m still spasming as he kisses his way back up my body, finally reaching my mouth. I can taste myself on his lips, and it’s impossibly erotic.

  He reaches over and opens the drawer in the nightstand, pulling out a condom and setting it on the bed beside us.

  “Might be best to keep that away from me,” I say.

  He laughs, a genuine roar of laughter. Leaning his forehead down to rest against mine, he says, “My God, I love you.”

  My mind reels; the enormity of that statement absolutely floors me. I mean, when he showed up at Manetti’s like something out of a romantic comedy, obviously this was in my mind. But he didn’t say it, and neither did I.

  We’ve each said “I love you” to each other hundreds of times—maybe thousands of times. But this is different. This is real, and it matters. I push him up to give myself room and prop myself up on my elbows.

  “I love you, too,” I say, earnestly. “I love you so much, and it’s better and bigger than I could ever have imagined.”

  “I know,” he says. “It’s huge.”

  “That’s what she said.”

  He laughs again. “I’ve never laughed in bed with a woman before,” he says. “I can’t imagine I ever would have. I think … I think that night, in Boston, when we laughed together in bed and we were having so much fun, I think that was the scariest thing that ever happened to me. Because it felt so right, Beck, and I was convinced it was wrong.”

  “A big mistake,” I whisper.

  “Not even a little one,” he says. “It’s the smartest thing I ever did. I should have known what it meant—that you were the one. The only.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down on top of me. He slips between my legs and reaches for the condom beside me, tearing it open and putting it on quickly.

  “I’m going on the pill the instant the doctor’s office is open,” I say, arching up to meet him.

  “That sounds fantastic,” he says. Then, hitching my hips up, he sheaths himself inside me.

  I shudder, from head to toe, and wind my legs around his waist. It feels amazing to be full of him; I’m so sensitive from my orgasm, and right away I’m climbing toward another. He moves against me in exactly the right rhythm, as if we’ve been together forever, as if we’re made for each other. Which I guess we are.

  Together. Me and Garrett.

  “Beck,” he murmurs in my ear. “So beautiful. You feel so good.”

  I gasp as he thrusts even deeper and pull him close against me, turning my head to find his lips. We kiss, and his tongue slips into my mouth just as his cock is slipping into me; the sensation is exquisite. He moves faster, goes deeper, and the muscles in his back are tense under my fingers as I hold on tight and let myself go, welcoming that second crashing wave of pleasure. Garrett buries himself deep inside, all the way, and I feel him pulsing as comes with me.

  He drops his forehead to mine again. “I love you,” he says. His voice is ragged, his breathing uneven. I can feel the sweat on his forehead, the sheen of sweat along the planes of our bodies where they are pressed together. I can feel everything, so acutely that it feels supernatural.

  This is what perfection is, I think, dreamily. Blissfully.

  He rolls to the side and pulls me against his chest, and I just rest against him, shocked and satisfied in every cell. I drift a little, just enjoying the sweat cooling on my body and the feeling of his body next to mine.

  After a bit, he gets up and goes off to the bathroom, but he comes back immediately and slides back into the same spot, holding me close—cradling me like I’m something precious.

  I think I can live with that. He can treat me like I’m precious, as long as he’s not trying to protect me from himself.

  “Hey,” he says. “Question: have you decided about grad school?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “In the end, there was only one choice.”

  “So where are we going?”

  I tilt my head back to look at him. He looks down at me solemnly.

  “What?” I say.

  “I’m going wherever you go. So I’ll have to figure out where I’ll finish school.”

  “Garrett, you can’t just up and change schools—”

  “I’m going where you go.”

  “It’s a moot point,” I tell him. “I’m going to Colby.”

  He grins widely. “Beck! That’s amazing! How? I thought they didn’t come through with the money?”

  I tell him about Eileen’s offer, and he pulls me into a hug. The weirdest part is that, even though we’re naked, it’s not a sexy hug, or a prelude to anything; it’s just the same sort of hug Garrett has given me our whole lives—warm, supportive. The hug you give your best friend.

  He’s still in there, my best friend; there’s just more now. We’ve loved each other forever, and now we can have it all.

  My eyes fill with tears. How am I this lucky? Garret and I are together, I can go to the school I want, I get to keep my dream job and it’s going to get even cooler… I can hardly believe any of this is happening right now. My life could literally not be any better.

  “This is wonderful,” he says. “You’ll have to commute up to Colby—we should look for someplace a bit closer, so you don’t have to drive quite as far. Maybe right between there and Portland; we can both commute. And we can—”

  “Are you asking me to move in with you?” I ask.

  “Not really,” he says, grinning. “It’s more like assuming.”

  I kiss his shoulder, since it’s right there and easy to get to. “That’s very bossy. So, pretty much par for the course.”

  “I can ask, if you’d rather.”

  “Nah, I’m good.” I stretch a little. “We can hardly keep living with our parents now.”

  He sits up, swings his legs over the side of the bed, and turns to face me. His expression is suddenly very, very serious. “Your parents will be upset.”

  I shake my head. “No, they won’t. They just want me to be happy.”

  “My dad—” He pauses, seems to be collecting his thoughts. “My dad was really mad at me, after that night on the boat. He took me into his study and told me your dad had called, and gave me a pretty serious lecture about toying with your feelings. He was mad, your dad was mad—I’m not sure it’s as simple as telling them ‘Hey, everything is great now!’”

  I shrug. “They’ll deal. I’m a grown-up, Garrett, and I make my own choices. I’ve already given my mom that speech, and I’ll give it to anyone else who might happen to need it. I don’t need to be protected and taken care of and cherished.”

  He reaches out and lays a hand on my face, then leans over to kiss me, very slowly, very expertly. “Yes, you do,” he says. “That’s my job now, to cherish you. How’s it go? Love, honor, and cherish, right?”

  I go still all over.

  “Yeah,” he says, and there’s something like wonder on his face. “That’s how it goes. That’s what I’m going to do.” He looks into my eyes, runs his hand down my arm and takes me by the hand. “Beck—”

  “You don’t—”r />
  ”Hush.” He brings my hand to his lips and kisses the back of it, gently. “I’m sorry. You’re naked. This is a weird time. As usual, I’m doing everything wrong. But I want you to marry me.”

  I just blink at him. “I’m sorry?”

  “I want you to marry me. I’m never going to stop loving you. We’re it, Beck. We’re forever. Why wait?”

  For possibly the first time in my entire life, I’m completely speechless.

  “This is the part where you say yes,” he prompts me.

  And he’s right. This is the part where I say yes. Because why would we wait? Why would we impose some kind of waiting period on ourselves when we’ve been lucky enough to find each other now?

  Who else would I ever marry, if not Garrett?

  He’s always been so many things to me. And now he’s everything.

  “Yes,” I say. Just that. Yes to him, to us, to forever.

  To everything.

  Epilogue

  Rebecca

  One Year Later

  I peer into the mirror and adjust the sky-blue sash around my waist. The hand-sewn pearls on my heart-shaped bodice catch the light and glow in understated way, and my satin skirt drapes down to the floor elegantly. I’m not a vain person, but I think it’s probably impossible to look at yourself on your wedding day and not think you’re beautiful.

  And my wedding day is finally here.

  My mom steps into view behind me and reaches out to touch the ends of her fingers to my hair. “You look so gorgeous, honey. He’s going to fall over.”

  “I hope not,” I say. “He needs to stay upright at least through the ceremony.”

  Bri laughs and hands Mom my veil. Together, they nest it in the curls piled on top of my head, getting the little tiara just so, and draping both layers to fall down my back.

  “Are you sure you don’t want this in front, baby?” Mom asks.

  “Garrett knows what I look like,” I say. I don’t want to walk down the aisle with a veil over my face; I don’t need to be unwrapped.