Butterfly Dreams (16 page)

“Well, you already know about my old love of photography and my bone-deep hatred of lasagna and herbal tea. I'm not sure there's anything else to tell you.” Beckett finished his fries and pushed his now-empty plate to the edge of the table.

“Somehow I doubt that.”

Beckett tapped his fingers on the table. “Before the cardiac arrest, I was your standard shallow jock. I got drunk on the weekends with my friends and played Call of Duty when I got home from work.”

“And now?” I prompted.

“And now, I'm not sure what I'm doing if I'm honest.” Uh-oh. Existential crisis alert.

“How about we look at this another way? Instead of asking yourself
what
you're doing, think about what you
want
to be doing.” Clearly I had missed my calling as a motivational speaker.

“I'd like to be living on a beach somewhere, taking pictures for a living.”

“That sounds pretty awesome. So what's holding you back?” I asked, taking another bite of my burger.

Beckett looked thoughtful. “I don't know really.” He seemed surprised by his answer.

“What do you do? For a day job I mean?” I swirled a fry in the ketchup, creating circles on my plate. I enjoyed grilling him. I liked finding out tidbits of information about the person that he was. I had a feeling that he let me see more than most. And that was incredibly flattering.

“I'm a sales manager for a software development company. Can we say snoozeville?”

“Okay, yeah, so you're not fighting crime in a red cape, but it can't be that bad,” I reasoned.

Look at me, being all positive and stuff.

“It's mind numbing, Corin.”

“Oh boo-hoo. How many people actually like their job?” I countered.

“You do,” he argued.

Well, he got me there.

“So if you hate it so much, do something about it. Go live on a beach. Become a photographer,” I challenged, wiping my mouth with my napkin and dropping it on my plate.

“You sound like my sister, Zoe.”

“Your sister sounds like a smart girl.”

Beckett laughed. “She'd agree with you. But you're right. I can't just sit around complaining about my life. I need to do something. That's why I'm thinking of taking some photography classes over at the community college.”

“That sounds like a great start, Beck.”

His eyes went soft every time I used his nickname. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy.

When the bill came, Beckett handed it to me. “You're paying, right?” I rolled my eyes and he winked at me, clearly finding himself pretty damn funny.

When we were finished, we walked back to the car.

“So where to next?” I asked, really hoping he wouldn't take me home. I thought dinner had gone well despite my bad case of verbal diarrhea.

“You want to come back to my place?” Beckett suggested.

“Uh…” Back to his place?

Wasn't that code for sex?

Did he want to have sex with me?

Why was I saying the word “sex” so much in my head?

Sex. Sex. Sex.

“I just thought we could watch a movie or something,” Beckett explained.

What I heard was
mumble, mumble, sex, mumble.

“Corin. I see the wheels turning in that head of yours. Is there a problem?”

“Do you want to have sex?” I blurted out just as we reached the car. I said it a little too loud, earning me a few stares from strangers walking by.

Beckett sputtered and choked. “Excuse me?”

“
Coming back to my place
is a euphemism, right? For sex.”

Now I was saying the word
sex
out loud. It was like having Tourette's.

Hey, how are you doing? Sex!

Nice weather we're having. Sex!

“I wasn't using it as a euphemism for anything. I promise! I really wanted to know if you'd like to watch a movie with me. Or we can go to a theater so there's no insinuation.”

“You can have sex in a movie theater too,” I pointed out. Oh my god, when will I learn to shut up?

“Can't say I've had the pleasure. But I'll take your word for it.”

We were still standing beside Beckett's car. He was going to take me home. I was sure of it. And things seemed to be going almost decently.

“So, my place? No euphemism,” he said, grinning at me like I wasn't a complete nerd.

“Sure.” I grinned back.

“Wow, this is your place?” I asked, after Beckett turned on the light.

“Yeah. I haven't lived here that long. I moved in over the summer.”

“No roommates?”

“Uh, no. Not anymore,” Beckett answered, looking uncomfortable.

Oh.

The ex must have lived here too.

That made things a tad awkward.

I walked over to the mantelpiece and saw a couple of framed photographs. I recognized one as a black-and-white picture of the Ash Street bridge.

I picked it up. “Is this one you took the other week?”

Beckett shook his head. “No, that one is from middle school.”

I looked up at him in surprise. “You weren't kidding when you said it was a passion. This is amazing!”

“Thanks.” He seemed embarrassed but pleased. It seemed I wasn't the only one who had a hard time taking a compliment.

“Seriously. You
have
to do something with this. You're wasting your talent otherwise. I'm just blown away here,” I told him sincerely.

Beckett gave me a shy smile. “Really? You think so?”

“Absolutely! This is gallery quality! The lighting and the shadow are intense.” I breathed, leaning in closer to have a better look.

“That means a lot to hear you say that,” he remarked softly, coming up behind me. His front was practically pressed against my back.

“I say it because it's true. I don't say things unless I mean them. My dad used to say that I was his truth detector. Because I have never been a good liar. I'm horrible at it actually—”

“I'm making you nervous, aren't I?” Beckett whispered into my ear, making me shiver.

I closed my eyes, willing my heart to slow down. It didn't work.

“Yeah. You are.”

Beckett turned me around so that I was now facing him. I liked being able to look him in the eyes. Most of my life I had hated being tall. For once it didn't bother me.

“Why am I making you nervous?” he asked, giving me an amused smile.

“Because I've got sex on the brain. I know you said it wasn't a euphemism. But I'm here and we're alone and I'm waiting for you to make a move. And it's making me jittery, which means I will inevitably start saying stupid stuff. Please tell me to stop talking,” I pleaded.

“You make me nervous too, you know,” he confessed, his voice still barely above a whisper.

“
I
make you nervous? Why?” I scoffed.

Beckett tucked a piece of hair that had gotten loose behind my ear, letting his fingers trail down my cheek. “Because the way I feel when I'm around you is crazy. It's out of control. I just want to touch you. I want to be with you. All. The. Time. That's nuts, right? We haven't known each other that long. But I swear, I feel like you know me better than some who have known me for years.”

I sucked in a breath and bit down on my lip. His eyes dropped to my mouth, heated. “I feel the same way.”

“Good,” Beckett murmured. “I'm going to kiss you. We're not going to have sex. Not tonight. But I want to kiss you. And maybe grope you a little bit if you're cool with that.” He chuckled and I poked him in the stomach.

“Don't make fun of me.”

He pulled me into him, his hands sliding up my arms to settle on either side of my neck. “I wouldn't dream of it,” he said softly before kissing me.

And man, did he kiss me.

His tongue gently pressed against the seam of my lips and I parted them instantly. He plunged his tongue into my mouth, invading me. Taking over.

I could have kissed him like that forever. Forget eating and sleeping. All I needed was this man's lips on mine.

At least until I passed out from hunger or my bladder burst. But until then I'd be pretty damn happy with just the kissing.

“Mmm,” I moaned into his mouth. I could feel Beckett grin and I knew he liked the noises I was making. Which was good because I was vocal when I felt the girlie bits start to tingle apparently.

“You taste incredible,” he murmured, kissing the side of my neck.

“I was worried that I tasted like onions. I should have thought about that when I ordered dinner.” Even with the tingly girlie bits, my mouth spewed all sorts of nonsense.

Beckett's tongue touched the sensitive skin on the underside of my jaw and I quivered. I honest to god quivered from my head to my toes.

He ran a line from my up to my ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth and biting down. But it didn't hurt. Not at all.

“Mmm,” I moaned again, louder this time.

“You taste perfect. I can't get enough of you,” Beckett rasped, and I was pretty sure I was going to melt into a puddle of lady juice onto his floor.

“Well, stop licking me and kiss me again, damn it,” I demanded. Beckett chuckled, working his way ever so slowly back to my mouth.

“I like it when you get cranky.” And then he was kissing me again.

Beckett started backing up, taking me with him, never breaking the kiss. When he hit the couch with the backs of his legs, he sat down, pulling me down on top of him so that I straddled his lap.

Oh. This was interesting.

His arms wrapped around me, his hands going up into my hair. I felt him hard beneath me and I couldn't help grinding against him.

It was Beckett's turn to moan and it drove me completely wild. Things got heated really fast after that.

We were kissing so hard, so deep that I felt dizzy. Then he broke away and started kissing a line from my mouth down my neck again. Sucking, licking. Tasting me like I was a freaking lollipop.

It was unbelievable.

“Oh my god,” I moaned as he started to rock his hips against mine. The girlie bits were on fire. I was wet and aching and damn sure we were wearing way too many clothes.

“Keep doing that,” I rasped, pushing myself down onto his crotch. I wanted to ride him like a bucking bronco. My inner cowgirl was ready to come out and play.

I was Corin,
Wanton Dry Humping Goddess
!

Beckett lifted me up off his lap and I whimpered. Hadn't I made it obvious that I really liked that? Did I need to be more vocal? I thought I had been quite clear. What part of
keep doing that
had he not understood?

He laid me on my back and positioned himself between my thighs, bringing my legs up so they wrapped around his waist. He pulled the top of my shirt down so that he exposed my very pretty bra.

I was extremely proud of my pretty underthings. I was glad they weren't going to waste.

Beckett was still kissing me and now his hands were squeezing my breasts. Fucking hell, that felt good!

“Come on, baby. Squeeze those suckers like a stress ball,” I groaned.

Cue the inner face palm.

But Beckett didn't laugh. He seemed to be way past all that. He was entirely focused on the Corin goods. “Yes ma'am,” he panted, squeezing my boobs harder before tweaking my nipples.

“Whoa!” I screamed, arching my back off the couch.

“Too much?” Beckett asked, looking worried. His face was flushed and his chest was heaving.

He was the hottest man I had ever seen in my entire life.

And he had an erection because of
me!

That was a powerful realization.

I pulled him back down and wiggled my chest. “It was just right,” I hummed, licking my lips.

Beckett didn't need any more encouragement. He attacked my mouth again, both hands on my breasts. Then he was rocking against me. It was full on grinding. We were totally having sex. But with our clothes on.

“I told you it was a euphemism,” I said against his mouth.

“Stop talking about euphemisms,” Beckett shot back, pinching my nipple again. I yelped but then I started purring like Mr. Bingley when I scratched behind his ear. Because whatever Beckett was doing with his hands and my boobs was really, really nice.

We could have gone on like that indefinitely. Dry humping and groping and kissing like mad.

But then Beckett pulled away, sitting up and repositioning his crotch. “What are you doing?” I whined. I was enjoying that. A lot.

“I told you that I didn't bring you up here for sex,” he explained.

“So?” I sounded petulant. Well, I was feeling petulant! I wanted his hands back on my breasts!

“This is our first date, Corin. I don't want you to think that's why I asked you out.”

Stupid chivalry. I thought it was dead, damn it!

I let out a sigh and fixed my shirt and straightened my ponytail. My lips felt swollen, which actually felt nice. Like a trophy from a hot make-out session.

“So do you want to watch a movie?”

“If we have to,” I pouted. Beckett laughed, kissing me again, and got up to put something on.

I don't remember what movie we ended up watching.

Because I got my way in the end. Beckett lasted a whole twenty minutes before his tongue was down my throat and his hands were up my shirt.

And this girl got some boob action.

It was the best first date ever.

I held my phone in my hand, wanting to call her.

Would that be too pushy?

Was I being desperate?

Probably. I had become a giant pile of vagina where Corin Thompson was concerned.

“Man, seriously, either make a call or put the thing away.” Aaron and Bryan had talked me into going with them to the park. I hadn't wanted to, knowing how much it sucked the last time I had gone, only to sit on the sidelines watching everyone else do something I used to love.

“Shut up. Just give me a minute.”

I dialed her number and held it to my ear, trying to be cool. Trying being the operative word.

“Wow, texting
and
calling. To what do I owe the honor?” Corin said by way of greeting.

“Keeping tabs, are you?” I joked in return.

“I'm not the one with the stalker tendencies,” she teased, and I could hear some noise in the background.

“I know you're at the shop, I just wanted to call and tell you again that I had a great time last night.”

“Me too. A lot more than I thought I would,” she admitted, and I laughed.

“Did you think it would suck? Why in the world would you agree to a date if you thought it was going to blow?”

“Eh, I wanted to put you out of your misery.”

“Beck, hurry up! The guys are here!” Bryan yelled, and I flipped him off.

“It sounds like your presence is being requested.”

“They can wait,” I muttered.

“I feel special,” Corin remarked.

“You
are.
” I couldn't help being a total sap with her. It made my teeth hurt but the cheesy romantic lines just sort of slipped out. I was never like this with Sierra. Not in the almost two years of being together.

“I think I threw up in my mouth a little, Beckett.”

“You love it, don't pretend otherwise.” I enjoyed our banter. It kept me on my toes. Corin wasn't like other girls with flirty eyes and fake giggles.

I had a feeling she didn't even know how to be that way.

“There was another reason I called,” I began, waving Aaron away when I saw him approach. He grabbed his crotch and stuck out his tongue. My friends were really mature.

“Oh yeah? Well, don't leave me in suspense here,” she said.

“Candace called to tell me Geoffery's service is tomorrow evening. Do you want to go over together?”

There was silence on the other end. A very prolonged silence.

“Corin?”

“Uh…”

Crap. She had told me about her parents. I knew they had both died when Corin was younger, even if I still didn't know the specifics.

Way to be sensitive, Beckett!

“If you can't, that's fine—”

“No, I'll go. We can head over together?”

“Of course, Corin.” I liked saying her name. It sounded
right
on my tongue
.

“All right. Yeah. I should go. Geoffery was a nice man. I should pay my respects.”

“Okay. Well, I'll pick you up around five-thirty? The service starts at six.”

There was another silence. “Maybe we can do something afterward. Go see a movie or you can come over to my place and we can watch a movie,” I suggested. I didn't want her to be upset.

I hated the thought of it.

“Are you euphemizing again? Because I liked the way that turned out last night,” she replied, her voice pitched low and husky.

And now I had a semi that I was going to have to deal with.

“We can do whatever you want to do, baby,” I said softly. The things this woman did to me…

“Sure,” she said finally, and I groaned.

“You just ‘sured' me again, Corin. You really need to come up with a better response when I ask you out.”

“Sure, Beck,” she repeated, and I knew she was messing with me.

“Beckett, I'm going to come over there and dry hump your leg! Get off the fucking phone!” Aaron hollered.

“That was a serious threat. I think you should go.” Corin laughed.

“I wouldn't put it past these guys. So I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” she agreed.

“Bye, Corin.”

“Bye, Beck.”

“Was that a
girrlll?”
Bryan sing-songed, grabbing my phone after I had hung up.

“Give me my phone, or I'll knee you in the junk. You may be bigger than me, but that just means you'll go down harder.” I tried to swipe my phone out of his hand but he held it out of reach.

“Corin? Who's Corin?”

“She's a woman, obviously.” Just great, I had opened the door on this one. My friends weren't known for their maturity. I prepared myself for at least fifteen minutes of debased humor and high school antics.

“A woman you're totally boning,” Bryan guffawed, and I rolled my eyes.

“I'm not
boning
anyone. Grow up, Bry.” Bryan was laughing so hard that he had doubled over. At least he was amusing
himself.

I walked over to the soccer pitch with my friends, seeing the rest of the guys from our parks and rec team warming up. I hated the stab of jealousy I felt at seeing them running laps and kicking the ball around.

Watching instead of doing was going to suck. But I had told Aaron I'd come. I couldn't become a shut-in. I'd lose my fucking mind.

I had taken my camera out during my lunch hour today, and it had been pretty great. I got some amazing shots of the skyline.

But photography was a solitary hobby. I still needed to interact with other people.

Bryan jogged over to a few of the others, bouncing a ball off his head when they threw it in his direction. Maybe circus seal could work for him if all of his other life goals didn't pan out.

“So now that dumbass is gone, you wanna tell me who this Corin chick is? And more importantly, is she hot?” Aaron asked.

“Are you up for a heart-to-heart? I don't want you hurting yourself,” I remarked blandly.

Aaron made a face. “I wasn't aware we were heading into feelings territory. If that's the case, let me back up a sec and rephrase. Is this Corin chick hot and if you're not banging her, can I?”

“You don't even know what she looks like,” I protested. Even though my friend was fooling around, the thought of him, or
anyone
, with Corin made me want to hit something.

Really fucking hard.

“You're not the kind of guy to waste his time on fuglies. I trust your judgment.”

“Seriously, Aaron, shut up,” I bit out testily.

Aaron punched me in the shoulder. “Shit man, you're getting pissy. She must be grade A ass. So you
are
boinking some new meat.”

I should have known that I'd never be able to talk about Corin with my friends in a way that didn't involve the words
ass, tits
, or
boinking.

“Forget it. I think they're waiting on you.” I pointed toward the two teams congregated on the pitch.

“Yeah, I should get over there. God knows without you, we don't have a fucking prayer of winning. You gonna hang around for beers afterward?” he asked.

I shrugged. “We'll see how bored I get watching you lose.”

“Trash talk. I like it. Pop a squat and take it all in, my friend. See how badly we suck.”

I laughed and sat down on the bench off to the side of the soccer field. It was chilly today so I blew on my hands and tried to warm them up.

My friends started kicking the ball around in something that resembled soccer. Aaron was right. They sucked.

But man I missed it. My feet itched to run. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my body.

I bounced my legs up and down and I became fidgety and restless.

Sitting and watching other people play sports was my version of hell.

I ran my hand along the bump under my skin, hating it. Wishing I could claw it out.

But after a while I was able to get into spectating. I yelled at my buddy Sam, who was the ref. I whooped when Aaron actually made a goal and cursed three ways to Sunday when Bryan missed a pass and all but handed the ball to the other team.

By the time they broke for half time to take a water break, I found I was actually enjoying myself.

Sure I was wistful and still felt way too sorry about my situation, but I didn't feel depressed the way I had a month ago.

I walked over to my former team while they talked strategy and guzzled water.

“Not bad, guys,” I said as I approached them.

“Beck! Man, it's good to see you!” Cameron said, patting me on the back.

“Sorry I haven't been around,” I apologized.

“We get it. No worries. Just glad to see your ugly mug back on the pitch. Even if it is just to play cheerleader. Though you could try wearing a cute little skirt next time. Show off those legs,” Jimmy goaded, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Next time, man. Promise. I know how you like to check out the goods.” I made a kissy face in his direction and he grabbed his nuts.

A guy named Justin kicked a ball at my feet. “Come on, Beck. For old time's sake.”

Aaron glared at Justin and kicked the ball across the pitch with force. “You know he can't, ass wipe. You don't need to rub his fucking nose in it.”

I was feeling pretty good. Better than good. Better than I had in a long time. What would it hurt?

I jogged across the grass and dribbled the ball back to my former teammates. “I'll take you on, fucker.” Justin gave me an uneasy grin and Aaron frowned.

“Dude, that's not the smartest thing I've ever heard you say. It's definitely up there with just one more tequila shot from between the stripper's tits.”

“I'm fine, man. Stop being a grandma. I haven't done anything in months. A quick kick around the pitch won't kill me.”

At least I hoped not.

Aaron didn't look convinced but Bryan let out a whoop and thumped me on the back. “All right! Let's go!”

He took the ball from between my feet and sped off toward the goal. I ran after him. I didn't go all out the way I would have before, but I was still pushing myself more than I had in a long time.

Soon my face was flushed and my heart was beating in overtime. I caught up with Bryan before he reached the goal and effortlessly took the ball, heading toward the opposite side of the pitch.

Damn, it felt good too. The burn in my calves. The air freezing my face.

I was rusty. I fumbled the ball a few times and Bryan swooped in and took it from me effortlessly.

After a few minutes, when I didn't keel over, the others joined in and soon we were all playing together the way we used to.

Aaron passed me the ball and I took off running.

And this time I punched it. I ran hard. I ran fast. I started to wheeze and black spots swam in front of my eyes.

I was ridiculously out of shape.

A sharp pain in my chest brought me up short. It wasn't like last time. It didn't bring me to my knees and knock the air from my lungs. But it hurt and served as a reminder that I lived my life in limitations now.

I stopped running and braced myself on my knees, getting my breathing back under control. I could hear the wheeze in my chest and knew I had overdone it.

“You okay, Beck?” Aaron asked, looking worried.

I held my hand up, telling him to give me a minute. The rest of the guys came over, not crowding, but watching me closely.

“I know I'm good looking, but stop staring at me,” I rasped, rubbing my chest.

The shadow of pain was still there but finally my heartbeat slowed and I was able to get a deep breath into my lungs.

I had lasted a whole five minutes before my body shut down on me.

The disappointment and regret were almost debilitating.

“I'm fine, seriously,” I told my friends sharply when they wouldn't stop staring at me.

“Good, because as much as I love ya, man, I was not putting my mouth on yours to give you CPR,” Aaron stated, gagging.

I tried to smile but it wasn't much of one.

“I think I'll go return to my trusty bench,” I said, feeling like an idiot.

The last few minutes had put the nail in the old Beckett Kingsley's coffin. It was official. I would never be
him
again.

I sat down heavily, struggling not to let depression take over.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and read the text that came in from Corin.

So can I send you dick pics now that we're dating?

I chuckled out loud. How did she know I needed to laugh right now? How did she know I needed to remember my life wasn't over just because I couldn't do the things I used to?

I tapped out a response.

If you're sending me dick pics, then we need to have a very serious conversation.

The guys were yelling on the pitch and I looked up to see Bryan run into the goal, tearing a hole straight through the netting. I shook my head. What a dumbass.

My phone chimed in my hand and I looked down at a picture of a nerdy-looking guy wearing a nametag that read, you guessed it—Dick. It was followed by another text.

Get your mind out of the gutter, Beck.

And just like that I wasn't thinking about my body that had failed me. I wasn't thinking about how I couldn't play soccer or go jogging.

I was laughing my ass off because of a girl who made me forget about all the bad stuff.

She made living easy.

“You're late,” Zoe said, letting me into my parents' house.

“Nice to see you too,” I replied blandly.

“Mom's complaining that the sauce is
ruined
. Ruined, I tell you!” Zoe shook her fist in the air.

I ruffled Zoe's hair because I knew she hated it. “She can't stay mad at me. I'm the kid that almost died.” I batted my eyelashes.

Zoe dug her finger into my chest. “You can't use the whole cardiac-arrest thing forever, Beck.”