Sugar Rush
Page 37
The picture is magical in my opinion, because it shows not only how beautiful Beck is, but how much I adore him, even when he’s not aware of it.
“Sela,” he says, his voice a little rough. His fingers brush over the picture of us in bed before looking over at me. “This is amazing. I love it.”
Shrugging with my cheeks feeling a little hot, I said, “I thought you could hang it up in one of your offices or something.”
“The one at Townsend-North,” he says. “As that’s where I spend most of my time. That way I can see it more often there.”
Pushing the box and wrapping paper off his lap onto the couch beside him, he places the frame on top of it and turns to me. One hand curls around my neck in what has now become to me his classic sign of possessiveness, and it makes me completely gooey inside. He pulls me toward him for a kiss. “Thank you. I’m going to have to say, that’s even better than the birthday present you gave me.”
I cock an eyebrow at him skeptically.
“It’s true,” he insists. “Especially because of that photo of you kissing me while I sleep.”
Warmth spreads through my chest and my heart thumps over the gratitude in his voice. I press my lips to his briefly before I say, “Merry Christmas, Beck.”
“Okay,” he says as he pulls away and picks up the small box that was resting on my lap. “Time to open yours.”
I take the present from him and shake it slightly. Something inside rattles and I smile slyly. “Wonder what this is?”
Truth be told, the fact that something rattled inside throws me off a bit. I assumed it was jewelry, but whatever is inside is loose and has some substance to it.
“Only one way to find out,” he chuckles. “Open it.”
My fingers pull at the paper. I’m not one who opens gifts delicately, preferring to tear into them. There’s a small white box inside, and when I pull off the top, I gasp in surprise.
Reaching in, I hesitantly pull out what is clearly a car key fob with a Mercedes symbol on it. My thumb rubs the raised silver emblem for just a second before I turn to Beck and say dumbly, “You got me a car?”
He nods enthusiastically. “A GLK350. It’s a crossover. Smaller than their other SUVs but very safe. Completely sporty. It’s in the garage. Want to go see it?”
“I got you photographs,” I say with a thick tongue as my face turns back to the key fob in my hand. “You got me a car.”
“Oh no you fucking don’t,” Beck says as his hand comes to my chin. He grips it and turns me to look at him. “You do not compare the cost of our gifts with each other.”
My eyes narrow at him slightly. “You got me a freakin’ car, Beck.”
“So what? I’m rich,” he says calmly.
“I don’t need a car,” I point out. “I take public transit.”
“You can visit your dad more often now,” he counters.
“It’s a freakin’ car—”
“Do you love me?” he butts in.
“Yes,” I say, blinking over the change in subject.
“Then do me a favor and graciously accept my gift. And get fucking used to it. I’m going to buy you nice things.”
My mouth falls open. I think briefly about continuing to argue, but then I take in the serious look in his eyes that’s part exasperation but mostly devotion to me sprinkled with a little bit of excitement to show his care for me in this way.
All of the anger and embarrassment over my paltry gift evaporates and I smile sheepishly as I toss the box and key to the coffee table, and then crawl onto his lap. Looping my arms around his neck, I press a kiss to his stubbled cheek and then pull back to look into his eyes. “Thank you. It’s an amazingly extravagant gift, and I’m sorry for my reaction. This will take a little bit of getting used to.”
“I intend to spoil you, Sela,” he murmurs. “I want to give you the world.”
Smiling, I turn my body, pull my arms from around his neck, and curl into him. Resting my head on his shoulder and my palm over his heart, I say, “All I ever wanted was a quiet life. I always thought I’d be alone because of what happened to me. I never thought there was room in my life for anything other than my anger and misery. But now that’s all changed. You’ve already given me the world.”
His lips press onto the top of my head and his arms wrap around me. “Paint a picture for me. What does your world look like with me in it? Tell me where we’ll be in, say, a year from now.”
“Hmm,” I hum low in my throat as I consider his question. “In a small house that sits by the ocean. Maybe a fixer-upper with old linoleum floors we’ll want to rip out but they’re so charming we leave in, and whitewashed cabinets. We’ll have a dog, maybe two, that we can take for walks on the beach. I’ll work as a counselor and you’ll do programming magic, and when we come home from work, we’ll fix dinner together.”
“Sounds nice,” he says in a low voice as one of his hands strokes my arm.
“And we’ll fuck every night, and twice a day on the weekends. We’ll listen to bands in dive bars or we’ll try out various coffee shops in search of the perfect Viennese cup. Oh, and we’ll develop some type of hobby…like maybe collecting antiques or something. You know, so we don’t get so wrapped up in sex that we never leave the house for very long.”
Beck chuckles and squeezes me tight, but then he turns serious. “Do you want kids?”
“I don’t know,” I answer quickly and honestly, but it’s a thought that has plagued me before. “I mean…I never thought I’d have a real relationship before, or that I’d even be living with someone and discussing a beach house and dogs. But yeah…I like kids. I think I’d be a good mom. I had a great role model, after all.”
“Well, I had a crappy role model for a mother,” Beck says, not in a bitter way, but more reflective.
“You’d make an amazing father,” I say softly. “You’re so good with Ally.”
“Yeah,” he says softly. “I think I would too.”
We both fall silent, maybe unsure of what to say after that revelation. I mean, not an hour ago we were declaring our love for the first time, and now we’re discussing houses and children. It’s too fast and it’s overwhelming, and yet it’s also a little bit right too. I know this because the ensuing silence as we contemplate this isn’t awkward at all.
“Sela,” he says, his voice a little rough. His fingers brush over the picture of us in bed before looking over at me. “This is amazing. I love it.”
Shrugging with my cheeks feeling a little hot, I said, “I thought you could hang it up in one of your offices or something.”
“The one at Townsend-North,” he says. “As that’s where I spend most of my time. That way I can see it more often there.”
Pushing the box and wrapping paper off his lap onto the couch beside him, he places the frame on top of it and turns to me. One hand curls around my neck in what has now become to me his classic sign of possessiveness, and it makes me completely gooey inside. He pulls me toward him for a kiss. “Thank you. I’m going to have to say, that’s even better than the birthday present you gave me.”
I cock an eyebrow at him skeptically.
“It’s true,” he insists. “Especially because of that photo of you kissing me while I sleep.”
Warmth spreads through my chest and my heart thumps over the gratitude in his voice. I press my lips to his briefly before I say, “Merry Christmas, Beck.”
“Okay,” he says as he pulls away and picks up the small box that was resting on my lap. “Time to open yours.”
I take the present from him and shake it slightly. Something inside rattles and I smile slyly. “Wonder what this is?”
Truth be told, the fact that something rattled inside throws me off a bit. I assumed it was jewelry, but whatever is inside is loose and has some substance to it.
“Only one way to find out,” he chuckles. “Open it.”
My fingers pull at the paper. I’m not one who opens gifts delicately, preferring to tear into them. There’s a small white box inside, and when I pull off the top, I gasp in surprise.
Reaching in, I hesitantly pull out what is clearly a car key fob with a Mercedes symbol on it. My thumb rubs the raised silver emblem for just a second before I turn to Beck and say dumbly, “You got me a car?”
He nods enthusiastically. “A GLK350. It’s a crossover. Smaller than their other SUVs but very safe. Completely sporty. It’s in the garage. Want to go see it?”
“I got you photographs,” I say with a thick tongue as my face turns back to the key fob in my hand. “You got me a car.”
“Oh no you fucking don’t,” Beck says as his hand comes to my chin. He grips it and turns me to look at him. “You do not compare the cost of our gifts with each other.”
My eyes narrow at him slightly. “You got me a freakin’ car, Beck.”
“So what? I’m rich,” he says calmly.
“I don’t need a car,” I point out. “I take public transit.”
“You can visit your dad more often now,” he counters.
“It’s a freakin’ car—”
“Do you love me?” he butts in.
“Yes,” I say, blinking over the change in subject.
“Then do me a favor and graciously accept my gift. And get fucking used to it. I’m going to buy you nice things.”
My mouth falls open. I think briefly about continuing to argue, but then I take in the serious look in his eyes that’s part exasperation but mostly devotion to me sprinkled with a little bit of excitement to show his care for me in this way.
All of the anger and embarrassment over my paltry gift evaporates and I smile sheepishly as I toss the box and key to the coffee table, and then crawl onto his lap. Looping my arms around his neck, I press a kiss to his stubbled cheek and then pull back to look into his eyes. “Thank you. It’s an amazingly extravagant gift, and I’m sorry for my reaction. This will take a little bit of getting used to.”
“I intend to spoil you, Sela,” he murmurs. “I want to give you the world.”
Smiling, I turn my body, pull my arms from around his neck, and curl into him. Resting my head on his shoulder and my palm over his heart, I say, “All I ever wanted was a quiet life. I always thought I’d be alone because of what happened to me. I never thought there was room in my life for anything other than my anger and misery. But now that’s all changed. You’ve already given me the world.”
His lips press onto the top of my head and his arms wrap around me. “Paint a picture for me. What does your world look like with me in it? Tell me where we’ll be in, say, a year from now.”
“Hmm,” I hum low in my throat as I consider his question. “In a small house that sits by the ocean. Maybe a fixer-upper with old linoleum floors we’ll want to rip out but they’re so charming we leave in, and whitewashed cabinets. We’ll have a dog, maybe two, that we can take for walks on the beach. I’ll work as a counselor and you’ll do programming magic, and when we come home from work, we’ll fix dinner together.”
“Sounds nice,” he says in a low voice as one of his hands strokes my arm.
“And we’ll fuck every night, and twice a day on the weekends. We’ll listen to bands in dive bars or we’ll try out various coffee shops in search of the perfect Viennese cup. Oh, and we’ll develop some type of hobby…like maybe collecting antiques or something. You know, so we don’t get so wrapped up in sex that we never leave the house for very long.”
Beck chuckles and squeezes me tight, but then he turns serious. “Do you want kids?”
“I don’t know,” I answer quickly and honestly, but it’s a thought that has plagued me before. “I mean…I never thought I’d have a real relationship before, or that I’d even be living with someone and discussing a beach house and dogs. But yeah…I like kids. I think I’d be a good mom. I had a great role model, after all.”
“Well, I had a crappy role model for a mother,” Beck says, not in a bitter way, but more reflective.
“You’d make an amazing father,” I say softly. “You’re so good with Ally.”
“Yeah,” he says softly. “I think I would too.”
We both fall silent, maybe unsure of what to say after that revelation. I mean, not an hour ago we were declaring our love for the first time, and now we’re discussing houses and children. It’s too fast and it’s overwhelming, and yet it’s also a little bit right too. I know this because the ensuing silence as we contemplate this isn’t awkward at all.
