Then Summer Came (21 page)

"No big deal."  His voice was low and sultry.  I looked back up at him and tried to swallow the dryness in my throat.  He was just looking at me, his eyes slowly sweeping over my face.  I stared back at him, trying to remember what I’d gone there for; it was suddenly just gone. I couldn't remember. 

"That dress is…I don't know how but it does you justice." 

"Thanks."  It was hardly a word.  His tongue grazed his bottom lip, leaving it moist and glossy.  The heat rose between us, and I tried to ignore it.  I could feel the small hairs standing on the back of my neck. 

"This is the only bottle I could find," a voice said from the staircase.  We both turned toward the voice, and I saw a young blonde in her bra and some boy shorts, holding a bottle of red wine, awaiting Beck's response.  I looked back to him, but he was just staring at her, not saying a word. 

"Yeah," he finally said, "that's fine." 

The perky random shimmied between us and pressed against Beck as she slid into his room.  "Is she staying, too?" she asked, licking her lips and eyeing me up and down with a wry grin. 

Beck was just staring into my eyes when he finally cleared his throat and said, "No…she's not." 

The girl frowned and disappeared behind the door. 

"Well," I said clearing my throat, "I just wanted to say thanks.  You didn't have to do that." 

He smiled tightly at me.  "You sounded disappointed…on the phone earlier.  I assumed, from what you said, Derek wasn’t coming…"  He fidgeted with the cuffs of his sleeves.  "I just thought it'd make you happy…to have him there…" 

I didn't know what to say to that, so I nodded and turned to leave. I stopped mid-turn to add, "You looked really nice…by the way."  And with that, I jogged back down the stairs and headed to my apartment, thinking about the smokiness of his eyes the whole way.  He seemed so different; no jokes or chipper chats, like usual.  No, he was dark and serious, almost…mysterious.  Maybe it was because he was about to mount a random?  I shoved that thought to the back if my mind and closed my apartment door behind me.

I shimmied out of my dress and into my bed.  It’d been an exhausting night. 

It couldn’t have been but about three hours when a loud sound woke me.

"Hello?"  I answered the phone before I was even fully awake.  I hadn’t even realized that I’d heard it ring yet.

"Hey…"  Beck's voice was cold and raspy. 

"Hey?"  I sat up and shook off the sleep.  My room was pitch-black, and the light from my phone screen was powerfully bright, burning into my corneas. 

"Look, I'm sorry to wake you, but can you come and get me?"  His voice was dry, serious, and maybe a little upset.

"Uh…yeah, where are you?" 

"I have no…fucking idea…”  I heard his ask someone, but didn’t hear their reply.  “I'm at Drown.  It’s a bar in Riverside.” 

“Riverside?  Beck, that’s an hour away.  What happened?” 

“I know, I’m sorry.  I tried calling my mom and Cam and the guys, but no one answered.  I called a goddamn billion times and none of the bastards answered…I lost my shit…I can’t find my wallet or anything.  I just…"  He sounded wasted. 

"It’s okay, I'm coming.  Stay right there.  I’ll be there as quick as I can." 

I didn’t even bother changing.  Matching pajama set it was.  I pulled in front of Drown, an hour later.  I had mapped it before I left.  It was easy to find.  It’d started raining right after I’d left.  It hadn’t rained in a while and I welcomed it, but I hated driving in it.  I eyed the front of the building and saw Beck leaning over on a table, his head in his arms, the rain beating down on him. 

I got out into the pour.  “Beck!” I yelled over the roof of my car. 

He looked up, and I could see it all over his face:  he was freggin’ wasted!  He stumbled out of the metal chair he’d been sitting in and walked a crooked line toward the passenger’s side door. 

“Jesus, Beck!” 

I went around to help him in, but he threw a hand up at me.  “It’s fine.  I’ve got this.”  He sounded drunker now that he had on the phone. 

When he was finally in the car, I got back in and wiped the rain from my face.  I turned back onto the street and headed back to Wilshire.  "What happened?" I asked after a few minutes of silence.

He jerked his head up from the window, like I’d startled him.  "These chicks, they stole my wallet and my phone.  I didn't have a way to pay a cab or anything, and like I said, no one else answered." 

I drove quietly for a second, deciding if I wanted to say it.  Then, I just said it.  "You should really be more careful about the friends you choose, Beck." 

"They weren't friends," he sighed and dropped his head back against the window.   

"Well, then watch who you date because they'll be exes one day.  And angry exes do crazy shit." 

His breath fogged the window as he retorted, "They weren't my exes either!  I don't even have exes." 

"None?"  I looked from the road, to him, and back again. 

"Well, you can't have exes when you don't date anyone," he slurred. 

"You don't have
any ex-girlfriends
?"  The scrutiny was clear in my voice.

"No, I'm not really
boyfriend material
, Lissa.  I'm…fuck-buddy material, or in your case, a replacement for self-centered fiancés." 

I gripped the steering wheel and focused on the road, not wanting to respond to his remark.  I knew it was true, but it sounded differently when he said it out loud.  It stung a little.

We didn't talk the rest of the drive.  When I stopped the car, he stumbled out of it and onto the sidewalk.  I jerked my seatbelt off and jumped out into the rain.  "Beck, wait.  Let me help you." 

He fell back against the wall and slid to the ground.  I watched as his head sank between his knees and the rain eased, drizzling over us. 

"Beck?"  I was almost worried.  I knew he was drunk, but he couldn’t sit there in the rain all night?  "Beck?" I said, again, and then I sat down beside him, against the wet brick wall. 

After a few minutes, he finally spoke up.  "There was one girl…" 

There was
? I thought.

"Her name was Erin.  I met her when I went to Florida a few summers ago."  He spoke quietly; I almost couldn't hear him over the buzzing of the cars passing and the light pattering of raindrops.  "We were great together, and she told me she loved me after two weeks.  It was a new feeling for me, and I really liked it.  I'd never had anyone tell me that before.  So, I said it back.  About six weeks later, I went to her apartment and caught her bent over her dining-room table, some long-haired, tan bastard fucking her brains out.  She found me later and we talked, but all she really said was that she’d been doing it for months."  He shrugged.

At first, I couldn’t believe he’d never had a girlfriend before, but now I just couldn’t believe that he had, or that he was
in love
with someone.  It threw me off, and I didn’t know what to say, so I just listened. 

"After that,” he sighed, “I decided that I wouldn't let another woman fuck me up like that again.  So no, I don't have exes.  Just her…" 

"Sorry, Beck…I didn't know." 

"Well it's not something I advertise," he said, his face in his hands.  "I was pretty stupid, and it's not something I intend on ever doing again." 

I raised my hand idly and brushed my thumb over his cheek.  "Not all women are like that." 

It almost hurt to think that I was one of them.  I told Derek I loved him every time I talked to him, but then I just cheated on him when he wasn’t around.  In some ways, my head tried to justify it for me, but I knew how awful I was.  I was just so jaded by Derek's broken promises that I couldn't help but enjoy the comforting feeling of the arms of the man who looked exactly like him. 

"I just mean…I'm sure you'll find someone one day…" I clarified.

His eyes were glossy from his night of drinking.  They burned into mine, and I couldn't find my breath. 

"Maybe…" he breathed.  My heart stopped at the sound of his throaty whisper.  I wanted to hold him, tell him that "Erin" was an idiot, and tell him that he was too good for anyone like that, but someone cleared their throat beside us, interrupting my thoughts. 

I dropped my hand from his face, and we both looked over.  Joy Easton, in all of her precisely-done-up glory, was regarding the two of us with wide eyes. 

"I got your voicemail,” she said in her delicate voice. “I came to make sure you made it home.  You didn't answer your phone when I called back." 

I stood, feeling uncomfortable and wondering how much of our conversation she'd heard, and I smoothed out my pajamas. 

“Someone stole my phone,” he explained. 

"Can you walk?" she asked her inebriated son. 

He braced himself and tried to stand, and I caught his arm to help. 

"I'll help you get him upstairs." 

Mrs. Easton helped me get him into bed.  He was
sort of
able to walk.  He face-planted into his mattress and he was out, just like that. 

I walked back downstairs to get ready to go back to bed. 

"Call me if he needs anything," Joy said as she came down behind me. 

"I will." 

She stared at me for a minute and then blinked away.  Her hand on the knob, she froze and said, “Can I tell you something?" 

I nodded, rubbing my eyes, and tried to act interested in hearing what she had to say, but I was exhausted. 

"A long time ago, I was in love with Cliff's best friend, Tripp."  She seemed to be gathering her thoughts, and I waited patiently, wondering why she'd tell me such a thing.  "Tripp loved me, too, and he always made me feel like I was the most important thing in the world.  It's a nice feeling, isn't it?" 

I nodded, still confused at why she'd be telling me that, and what her point could've been.

"Tripp moved away, and he asked me to go with him.  He wanted me to tell Cliff about us, so we could be together.  But I was frightened…I was afraid of what my life would've been like without Cliff in it.  I was already engaged to be married, and I thought that meant no turning back.  So, I stayed with him and let Tripp go.  For years, I was heartbroken, but when I married Cliff I dedicated myself to him, and I did my best to forget about Tripp.  And, Lissa, it gets easier over time, but…
you never forget
."  She scanned my face for a reaction—
I think
—but she wouldn't find one other than confusion.  "When you marry someone, you make a promise, but that promise only comes into play
after
you've said your vows.  You can turn back if there's something else you want…
someone
else." 

I stared hard into her tired eyes.  I could feel the furrow between my brows. 
What was she saying
?

"Derek is a good man, Lissa, and he means well, but being the wife of a business man isn't easy."  She said the words and immediately opened the door to leave.  "And Lissa…" I waited as she turned back to me.  "Just so you know, my son isn't broken.  He's just a little lost." 

She closed the door and I just stood there. 
Lost
?  That’s what she thought Derek was, lost?  Preoccupied was more like it.  I was in a stupor.  What the hell had she meant by all of that?  I had no idea why she’d tell me such a story, but I was so tired I didn’t even care to ponder about it.  I just wanted to sleep.

Chapter Twenty

I drug my feet into the kitchen.  It was early, and I was still sleepy.  Beck was slouched over onto the kitchen table, his chin in his hand, his other hand stirring his coffee.  I walked straight to the refrigerator for my juice, and I tried to avoid eye contact with him. 

"Sorry, about last night."  His voice was calm and quiet.  My eyes found his, and I smiled.  "Thanks for coming to get me." 

"It's not a big deal.  I was awake," I lied. 

"And if—"  He was going to add something, but my phone, buzzing across the marble countertop, interrupted him. 

"Sorry, it's Derek," I said as I grabbed the phone. 

"It's cool. Go ahead." 

"Derek?"  I sounded surprised. 

"Hey babe!"  His voice was loud and lively.  He sounded excited.  "I’ve cancelled on you a lot lately, and I miss you.  What would you say to a whole night together?  Just us, your apartment, whatever you want to do, I'm game?" 

"Really?"  I asked, a little thrown off. 

"Yeah, Walden is back and he’s going to take care of everything.” 

"You're serious?" 

"
Dead
serious
.  I miss you." 

"I miss you, too." 

"I'll be there around six.  I can't wait to see you, babe.  I love you." 

"Love you, too.  I'll see you at six."  I tried not to glow, but I was so ecstatic. 

"Ah, he found time for you,” Beck said, hovering over his steaming coffee. 

"Yeah…"  I always felt uncomfortable talking to Beck about Derek.  "He's coming here to stay with me tonight." 

"Oh," he nodded.  "I'll make sure to be out by six then." 

"You don't have to—" 

"Nah, it's fine.  I can find something to do for the night." 

"Thanks."



It was six-thirty and Derek wasn’t there.  I sat on the sofa by myself.  Beck had gone out, like he’d promised, and the apartment was eerily quiet…like a stark winter. 

I wasn't going to call him.  I wouldn't.  If he couldn't make time for me, or even find the time to call and let me know he couldn't make it, then I wouldn't call him either.  I tried to stay positive; it was only thirty minutes, so maybe he was just caught in traffic, but I also wasn’t an idiot.  He cancelled on me all the time, lately.  I knew when he offered, there was a chance he’d not show.  My chest felt emptier by the minute, hollow. 

Nine o'clock came, followed by nine-thirty, and I began to cry.  Why couldn't he keep a promise?  Why couldn't he make time for me?  The tears kept coming, despite my effort to be strong and not let it bother me.  Derek had talked to me about taking over his father's company.  He'd explained to me that it was going to take up a lot of his time, so how could I be mad?  I knew what I was getting into when I said I'd marry him.