Rules of a Rebel and a Shy Girl(73)

Care.

Care.

Care.

He cares about me.

My mom was wrong.

Maybe she was wrong about everything. Maybe not all guys bail.

Beck hasn’t bailed, and he saw me at my worst. And I didn’t break when I thought he left. I picked myself up off that bathroom floor.

I want to kiss him so badly I can barely breathe. The only way I can think of to get the air back into my lungs is to seal my lips to his.

So, I do.

His lips part in shock, and I almost pull back, fearing he doesn’t want this anymore after what I told him. Then his arms loop around my waist, and he presses me so closely there’s no room left to breathe. Air doesn’t seem so important anymore. Just kissing him. Touching him. Feeling safe.

He always makes me feel so safe.

Tears burn my eyes as I realize why that might be.

Overwhelmed, I pull back enough to get air. Beck rests his forehead against mine, his erratic breathing caressing my cheeks.

“Are you okay?” he whispers, grasping my waist.

I shake my head then nod, so unsure of everything. “I don’t really know …”

He tucks my head underneath his chin and picks me up in his arms. “Everything’s going to be okay. We’ll get you through this.”

The “we’ll” part breaks something inside me, because it makes me realize I’m no longer alone in this—that I’m choosing not to be. I latch on to him, holding on for dear life. And he does the same, maybe even holding on more tightly.





The end of the list…





Chapter Twenty-One



Beck



I didn’t expect today to go down like it did. Sure, I knew Willow had secrets, but the weight she was carrying around was heavier than I thought. How she even managed to carry all of that shit around with her is mind-boggling. What’s even more astonishing is how much she blames herself. Seeing the pain connected to her nearly tears my heart in half.

As she grasps me like I’m her lifeline with her legs and arms wrapped around me, I hold on to her with everything I have in me, afraid to ever put her down again. When a woman enters the bathroom and starts having a shitfit over me being in there, though, I know it’s time to leave.

That doesn’t mean I’m letting Willow go anywhere.

“Will you come back to my place with me?” I whisper in her ear.

She bobs her head up and down. “O-okay.”

The woman shoots me a nasty look as I pass by her, heading for the door with Willow in my arms.

“You’re lucky I don’t get the manager,” she sneers with her hands on her hips. “It’s so disrespectful for you to be in here.”

“Oh, no, not the manager.” I slip my arm underneath Willow’s butt and hold her against me while I maneuver the door open.

“You little punk,” the woman snaps. “What’s your name so I can go report you?”

“It’s go-fuck-yourself-and-leave-me-alone. I’m trying to help a friend,” I retort back before stepping out and letting the door shut.

Willow chuckles with her face pressed against my shoulder. “That was kind of rude.”

“No, what was rude was her making a big deal when it was clear I was in there helping out a friend who is having a really hard time.” I make my way past the tables, disregarding the stares we get.

“Yeah, I guess you might be right.” She lifts her head, her muscles tightening. “Maybe you should put me down. People are staring.”

“Well, people need to mind their own business,” I say loudly enough for everyone to hear then smile when some of them look away.

Willow rests her head on my shoulder with her face turned toward my neck. “You know, I’m always saying you’re my hero, but you really do feel like one right now … carrying me out of here like this. It seems very hero-ish.”

“That’s because I am secretly a hero. A superhero, actually.” As I reach the front doors, I turn around and walk through backward.

When I step outside, I head for the crosswalk. Neither of us speaks, we only hold on to each other as I cross the road and hike across the grass toward the parking lot. When I reach my car, I open the passenger door with one hand then set her in the seat and place her bag on her lap. Keeping my eyes on her, I close the door then hurry around to the other side.

Once I get in and start up the engine, I back out of the parking space and steer out onto the road. The longer we drive in silence, the more I want to say something. But I’m not sure what to say, and honestly, I want her to talk first so I know she’s ready to talk.

“She broke my snow globes,” she says so abruptly I jump.

Gripping the steering wheel, I let my heart settle before I speak. “Who did?”