“Okay. Punch it in,” he agreed, nodding to his GPS. “What is it?”
“It’s an old factory. I think they made car parts or something, but the office building that it’s attached to looks pretty creepy. Let’s go see how many doors are unlocked.”
“You’re crazy. You do know that, right?”
“Yes. I do,” I admitted happily.
I had so much fun with Becker. I was sure I hadn’t gut-wrench laughed like that since I’d done it with my mother as a little girl. Becker was so funny without meaning to be. I guess I was, too. We just got each other’s trivial sense of humor.
Becker ran out of the car and unlocked the gate that we were supposed to stay behind. “If I go to jail, you’re bailing me out,” he teased, jumping in. We parked around the back of the building and got out, walking the parking lot where grass had taken over and leaving little in the way of pavement. The weeds were grown waist high along the row of windows. I tried the door first, not expecting it to open.
“Come on. Let’s try the window,” I whispered.
“Okay, but why are you whispering?” Becker asked.
“It’s an exclamation mark. It makes it more exciting and creepy.”
“Okay, let’s keep doing it then. Your ass looks yummy in jeans, by the way.”
I smiled, happy he was behind me. “So does yours,” I whispered. I even peeked over my shoulder with a smile. I was proud of that milestone.
“WA-LA,” I said the magic word when I kicked a basement window and it opened.
“The basement?”
“What’s the matter? Chicken?” I taunted, kicking the window more. I sat on the ground and scooted myself through the window, turned on my belly, and slid in.
Looking around, I determined we were entering through some sort of lab, probably where they did testing on parts or something. Becker slid down next. I was glad I went first. He would have been the one standing there, watching my ass slide down. My eyes moved to his bulge when he pulled his jeans down, adjusting his package.
We didn’t really find anything exciting. It was dark and creepy, that’s about it, but nonetheless, it was fun. We stopped whispering and raced down the halls, laughing. I didn’t even realize we spent three hours there. Time seemed to stand still when I was with Becker. I could spend hours and hours with him. That’s what I did. I didn’t let myself think about what he had at home, my dad murdering him, or that it was all going to end. I spent the entire day in the moment.
“I want to come in,” Becker said at the curb.
“Um, maybe next time.”
“Why?”
“Snowball doesn’t like guys.”
“I’m sure I can handle Snowball. I’ll order us some supper.”
“I have to work tomorrow.”
“So do I.”
“Yeah, but…”
“No, buts. I won’t stay long.”
I was panicking when he got out and walked around to let me out. I didn’t want him to go in my house. It didn’t look like his at all.
“Beck, I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Why?” he asked, standing in front of me. “Is it because you’re a—how should I say this? Slob?”
My eyebrows frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I fixed your camera on your laptop to always be on.”
I gasped, thinking about one thing. “Oh my god. You saw… Did you… Oh my god, Becker. You watched me last night didn’t you?” I stepped around him. I was mortified. He watched and he knew how messy I was. I could never look at him again.
“I watched, but you were under the covers. We need to do that again without the concealment.” He grinned.
I turned my red face away from him and he led me in. I wasn’t getting out of it. He was coming in. Shit. He was coming in.
Chapter 9
First step in the door I picked up a shirt and then dropped it. Looking around at the clutter, I decided it was useless. How embarrassing was this? “Do you want something to drink?”
“Now this. This here confuses the hell out of me,” Becker ignored my question, holding his chin and pointing down to Snowball doing the crazy eight around his legs. Snowball always deserted my legs for someone else. I thought it was Justine, but it was anyone in general. “Why do you name a jet black cat Snowball?”
I smiled and tilted my head. My god. What was it about Becker Cole that made me want to climb the Empire State Building? “It was Blackie,” I admitted.
“That makes more sense. Why’d you change it?”
“My neighbors are black. It didn’t go over so well when I walked the neighborhood calling for Blackie.”