Seven Years

Beckett flipped on a small lamp beside the balcony door and I squinted. “By the way, you shouldn’t put your full name in the paper; that’s just fucking stupid.”

 

 

My living room was modest with a cozy sofa facing a small window, two tan chairs, and a couple of end tables. The dining room, bedroom, and kitchen were all connected. You could essentially stand in the living room and see my entire apartment.

 

A chill rolled through my body and I leaned against the cool door. “Where’s the title?”

 

Beckett involuntarily dropped his eyes to my legs. Involuntarily, because Beckett had no self-control when it came to tits and ass. A sign I should have paid attention to from the beginning, but I’d naively thought I could change him.

 

“You look damn sexy in that shirt, Lex. I always liked it when you wore it to bed.”

 

Beckett brushed his hand through his bristly hair. It was dirty blond and styled close to his head. He just got off work because he was still wearing his black work shirt with a logo of a red duck on his left breast. The name of the bar where he worked was Ducky’s Dive.

 

He walked right up to me and intimately rubbed his hands over my bare shoulders. “Let’s try it again,” he suggested in a smooth voice. “I fucked up and I want a second chance, Lex.”

 

Beckett was encroaching on my space and had that look in his eyes—the one that was dripping with lust. Before I could protest, he peeled off his shirt and slid his arm around my waist, grinding his hips against mine. His mouth trailed along my neck and I felt feverish, as if it were a dream. I wanted to object, but the fight was hardly in me.

 

My body trembled.

 

Beckett’s hands slid over my bare hips and his fingers bit into my ass. “Ah, shit, Lex. You feel so fucking good. You have no idea how hot it feels to be near you.”

 

It was a familiar feeling that suddenly made me uncomfortable. I no longer liked the way he touched me, his smell, or even his whiskey voice. My stomach knotted; I was trapped. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want his hands on me.

 

A knock on the door made me jump.

 

“Fuck off,” Beckett yelled out.

 

I flattened my hands against his sticky bare chest and pushed. “Beckett, no.”

 

Sex-filled eyes devoured me as the music from Naya’s apartment pounded like something you’d hear at a strip club.

 

The light knock at the door turned into a hammering fist. “Lexi, open up the damn door,” a dangerous voice demanded.

 

Austin?

 

Beckett’s eyes narrowed. “Who’s that?”

 

“No one.”

 

“Good. Get rid of him. I want to talk, and you don’t look like you’re up for watching an ass-kicking tonight.” His muscles flexed as he laid down the threat. Being a bouncer, Beckett knew how to handle himself, not to mention he loved starting shit with other guys for no reason. All that wrestling he watched had gone to his head.

 

He backed up and stood beside the balcony door with his arms folded in order to draw attention to his thick biceps. I turned around and cracked open the door. “Austin, what are you doing here?”

 

Austin’s eyes hooded as he studied my face. “Are you okay?” His voice maintained a frightening level of control—a little bit like a gun about to go off.

 

“I’ve got a virus. You should go; it might be contagious.”

 

Being that Austin was taller than me, he had the vertical advantage of seeing over my head and into the apartment. When I heard his knuckles crack, I knew he’d caught sight of Beckett, shirtless in my living room with the smug expression he always wore.

 

“Who’s in there with you?”

 

“It’s just my ex. He brought the title to my car and…”

 

“And he decided to mend fences by groping you in your condition?” Austin slid his jaw from left to right, something he did whenever he was pissed. Perhaps it was the slight lift of my brow, but his answer flashed across my face. Austin had a gift at reading people.

 

“I want him out,” he demanded.

 

I tried to shut the door, but Austin wedged his foot in.

 

“Just go,” I whispered. “He’s a big guy with a temper and I’m too sick to deal with a fight.”

 

Austin Cole lowered his head as well as his voice. A muscle tightened in his jaw and I knew he meant business. “You may not realize this yet, Lexi, but you’re in my pack. And nobody fucks with my pack.”

 

The door pushed open and Austin stood beside me. Beckett had never looked so small.

 

“Time for you to get the fuck out of here,” Austin said in a calm voice, the kind that made all my hairs stand on end.

 

Beckett looked intimidated just for a split second before going into stupidity mode. “Says who?”

 

Those two words had started more fights than I could even remember.

 

Austin reduced the space between them to nothing and I became nervous about what was going to go down. All my furniture in ruins, lampshades torn, curtains ripped, tables smashed to pieces…