Page 26 of Fake It Til You Break It

eight

~ Jasper ~

Westoppedonourway back to Beckett’s apartment to pick up an early dinner of burger and fries. He had even talked me into a chocolate milkshake, which I sipped happily while we walked.

Conversation flowed naturally, and we talked about inconsequential things as we rode the elevator to the thirty-eighth floor of his building. Entering his corner apartment, my immediate thought was that it absolutely matched the man I had come to know.

A little messy, a little chaotic, but filled with personality.

A stack of unopened mail had been piled onto the built-in counter in the entryway, while three pairs of shoes littered the floor under the shelving. The door to the laundry room stoodopen, giving me a clear view of the overflowing basket beside the washer, and a couple of empty beer bottles occupied the counter in the galley kitchen.

The space didn’t appear dirty or neglected, though. Just…lived in.

A ribbon of vertical windows had been set into the exterior walls, and the abundance of natural light that spilled into the apartment made it feel open and airy. Beckett had taken a minimalistic approach when it came to furnishing and decorating, with only an L-shaped sectional and a wall-mounted television in the living room.

No potted plants. No framed art on the walls. Not even a decorative pillow. Just an untidily folded fleece blanket and a purple area rug that matched nothing else in the room.

Everything about the apartment was so unapologetically him, and I couldn’t help but smile as I took it all in. I also appreciated that he seemed so at ease with me being there. He didn’t act like my presence was a bother or an invasion. In fact, I got the impression that I could have emptied his fridge and rearranged his furniture, and he wouldn’t even flinch.

We ate our meal at a circular table in the dining room, surrounded by a spectacular view of the Dallas skyline. Beckett told me a little more about growing up in Tampa. Apparently, he had been an only child like me, and he spoke fondly of his parents, who still lived in Florida. And like the good son he was, he tried to make it out there at least twice a year to visit them.

When we finished, I helped him clear away the remnants of our meal, then we retreated to the living room to settle down on the suede sofa. Not on opposite ends. Not with a cushion between us. We sat side by side, shoulders touching, legs brushing together, while Beckett scrolled through one of his streaming channels.

“What are we thinking?” he asked. “Comedy? Drama? Mindless action flick with a questionable plot but badass fight scenes?”

“The last one,” I said, placing my hand over my mouth to stifle a yawn. “I don’t want to think.”

“Say less. I’ve got you.”

He threw on a movie I hadn’t seen, but judging by the giant ape in the opening frame, it definitely checked all the boxes. Even the loud music and multiple explosions couldn’t compete with only three hours of sleep and overstimulation, though. By the mid-point of the movie, I couldn’t stop yawning, and every blink was a little slower, a little longer.

Beckett didn’t ask if I was okay, or suggest we reschedule our impromptu movie night. He just slid his arm behind my back, encouraging me to lean into him. Too tired to overthink or argue, I rested my head on his shoulder and sighed as I sank into his embrace.

God, he was so warm, and he smelled like home—soft like fresh laundry with a hint of spicy drama. It reminded me of being at SafeHouse.

I didn’t remember falling asleep, but when I came to, the movie had ended, the sun had set, and I had made Jasper my own personal bolster. Draped over his chest with my arm stretched across his stomach, I had practically crawled on top of him in my sleep. And he had seemingly made no move to stop me.

At least I hadn’t drooled on him.

Sitting up, I pushed my hair out of my face and gave him an apologetic grin. “What time is it?”

“A little after nine.”

“Oh, no. Are you serious?” My pulse sped as the heat of embarrassment crept up my neck. “I slept for four hours?”

“You clearly needed it. In fact, I’m kind of reluctant to let you go home.”

“No, no.” I held a hand up and shook my head. “I’m okay now. I promise.”

A slow, devilish smile stretched his lips. “I never said you weren’t. I just said I was reluctant to let you leave.” Sliding closer, he tucked a strand a hair behind my ear, then left his hand there to cradle my cheek. “Stay, Jazz.”

It would be disingenuous to say I hadn’t considered this when I had agreed to dinner at his place. Maybe not getting naked with him specifically, but definitely somewhere adjacent.

I wanted it. Wantedhim. I didn’t even have to ask for it, either. All I had to do was accept.

Tilting my head, I pressed into his hand and nuzzled against his palm. “I will stay, but I’m going to be weird and awkward about it. I just need you to know that now.”

“I’d be disappointed if you weren’t.”

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