Chapter 18

Days had gone by since we"d tried to take Beasty shopping. I couldn"t get out of my head enough to talk to her.

She wouldn"t hold my issues against me. I knew she wouldn"t.

Of anyone, she"d understand that I didn"t like touch and attention. And all of those women would have touched me if given the chance. If I was caught off-guard, it messed with my head.

Still, it was embarrassing how I needed to be out of their sight. Beasty must have understood since she let me stay in her dressing room.

But my brain didn"t know that. My brain said I"d shown weakness to her and now she"d laugh at me. Or worse, be ashamed of me.

So, like any other person with messed up issues, I avoided her. I"d seen her in the kitchen a couple times, and once in the living room, when I came through, but we hadn"t spoken other than a few polite words.

It had been easy.

I"d had a new string of jobs and so did Atlas. She opted to stay home, telling Lake she didn"t fit in and needed a break before she tried it again.

Lake and I walked in the door, and the house was quiet. Almost too quiet.

Atlas and Joaquin were gone. Beasty should be here.

"Do you hear anything?" I asked Lake. He shook his head, then put a hand up, signaling for me to stay by the door as he went to check the apartment.

This was silly. He never found any boogiemen. Except for that one time, but it was just a cum sock of his that got kicked under his bed.

He came back, not alarmed, so he had to have seen Beasty.

"She"s reading in her room." He smiled. "You should hang out with her."

"Why don"t you?" It wasn"t a whine. It was avoidance.

Lake paused, and the look he sent me was nothing short of scolding. Good thing I wasn"t afraid of him like everyone else in the fashion world.

"We"ve had this discussion a thousand times. You're the one who's good for her. You. Not us. We're…" His face twisted up as he searched for the words, but he shook his head.

Lake's sudden foul mood set off a bomb inside me. "If you want someone to hang out with Beasty, you do it!" He was being too much of a martyr for no reason.

Walking toward me, Lake lowered his voice. "Look. This is how it has to be. I love that she's here, but this is as close as I'm ever going to get. Joaquin and Atlas too. This. Is. As. Good. As. It. Gets. For. Us."

"Why? You're not making any sense!" My voice started to rise until I clamped my lips shut.

"What's your fucking problem?" He cocked his head to the side.

I couldn't pull in a full breath. Just like when I was younger, anytime I tried to talk to Beasty, I couldn't think or breath or do anything other than give her a weak smile. "This girl–She tears me up, Lake. I can be whoever I want to be. I can put on any face I need to, but not with her. Literally the only thing I can do is smile because she strips me bare."

Didn't he understand that? He had to have noticed it.

"There's no other choice, Kim. It's you or none of us. Is that what you want?" he whispered furiously.

"No!" I shot back. "Of course not, but I can't be the only one to be friends with her." I was already messing it up. Just look at how I almost had a breakdown in Macy's. I would have if she hadn't let me catch my breath in the dressing room with her.

Lake sighed, glancing back at the hall before completely turning away. "I"m going to go shower. Get Beasty to watch a movie with you or something," he muttered, leaving me standing in the doorway as he stalked off toward his bedroom.

How was I supposed to talk to her when I couldn't even look her in the eyes for more than a few seconds? This was insane. Lake should be the one taking charge. Or Joaquin.

Beasty came out of her room while I flapped my hands like a lunatic. She skidded to a stop, her finger stuck in the middle of a book.

My heart went into overdrive under her scrutiny.

"Are you okay?" She canted her head and peered closer.

"Fine. Just having a conversation with myself." I grinned, clasping my hands together.

The weight of her stare was heady as she shuffled closer. She gave me a sheepish smile as she took in my outfit. "Was the job fun?"

I'd gotten to keep the pieces from the shoot. It wasn't often, but sometimes the designers wanted us to take the items we wore, hoping we'd get photographed in them and give them a boost of free advertising.

Well, not free. They paid me for it. And today's ensemble was a black pair of slacks, white dress shirt, and a black floral scarf tied around my throat. It was masculine while just on the right side of delicate. I hated the job but I loved the spoils.

I laughed, then regretted it when her face fell. I wasn't laughing at her. "It"s a job. A necessary evil to be able to do all the things I want to do." Like take care of you.

"Then why"d you laugh?" Her frown was magnificent. There was just enough fire under the uncertainty, like she wanted to call me out for making her feel bad.

I glanced at her through my lashes.

Maybe Lake was right. I should hang out with her. Not avoid her because I was hung up on my own embarrassment.

"Do you want to watch a movie with me?" It was the hesitancy in my voice. The vulnerability that drew her in.

It was a gift in my personality to appear meek and sweet. I could be. When I wanted to be. It conquered the fashion world, and now I"d use it to conquer Beasty. But I didn"t want to own her.

I wanted her to own me.

As soon as I had her under my spell, I"d wrap up the singed and damaged pieces of my heart in a big navy bow and gift it to her.

Her entire demeanor softened, from the set of her wide lips, to the slack in her shoulders. Even the skin around her eyes seemed to melt with the effect I had on her.

"What did you want to watch?"

"A Disney movie?" We"d never really watched them growing up. I"d seen some since Rosie had played them on holidays, like they added a little extra cheer, but I experienced most of them as an adult.

And there was a darkness to them that I didn"t think others saw. It fascinated me.

"Okay." She mashed her lips together. "I can make the popcorn if you put on the movie. Or you can make the popcorn?"

"I"ll make it and you pick something. Doesn"t matter what." I almost skipped to the kitchen, all the anxiety that had festered under my skin for days suddenly gone, as if a bubble popped, leaving behind a lavender mist of giddiness.

I turned the stove on and added the oil. I couldn"t cook, but I could make popcorn. And making it ourselves was better for us. Less calories and bad stuff.

I hated that I couldn"t see the living room from where I was. Every second the kernels didn"t pop, I got deeper and deeper into my head.

What if Beasty changed her mind?

What if she didn"t want to watch a movie anymore? I couldn't even change out of my work clothes in case she disappeared while I was locked in my bedroom. Even my magnificent efficiency with changing outfits took time.

I poked my head around the corner and sighed. There she was, sitting on the couch, her back to the arm with the lamp turned on behind her, reading her book.

Atlas had never told me she liked to read. It made sense though. She spent enough time in the library to get away from her fosters.

The popcorn finished popping and I seasoned it to perfection before balancing the bowl and a couple waters in my hands.

"It"s ready," I said quietly as I came around the corner.

Beasty sat up, set her book on the end table, and pulled the blanket off the back of the couch. She held it up like she was waiting for me to sit.

My heart thumped erratically as I took the cushion next to her, close but not touching.

She dropped the blanket, covering both of our legs, and then grabbed one of the waters from my hand. All without touching.

I hated touch. I always had.

It tore at my skin like a rusty cheese grater, leaving behind a slimy residue that never seemed to wash off.

Yet, Beasty"s touch didn"t.

Hers felt so good, it was like a balm to my soul. I craved it.

She seemed to want to respect my space, maybe because of what she'd seen others do? I wanted her to forget all that. To touch me like she wanted me.

To touch me like I was hers.

"Are we sharing?" Her question jolted me out of my thoughts.

"Yeah, I thought we could." I settled the full bowl between us, half on my thigh and half on hers, although she was sitting crisscrossed. "What did you pick?" I asked.

I glanced at the screen and laughed. This time, Beasty shared the humor with me.

"Beauty and the Beast?" I asked, deadpanned.

She grinned, a mischievous glint lighting her eyes. "Yep. I thought it was fitting. Remember when I first met you? I asked why you all were so pretty. You still are, you know. You four are the most handsome men I"ve ever seen."

The glow from her words suffused every cell in my body. "You"re biased because we grew up together."

"Nah." She shook her head. "I"m being honest. You"re all crazy attractive, but in different ways. You all always stood out."

I raised a brow. "That"s because there weren"t many ethnic people in West Virginia."

She snorted. "Yes, there were, just not as many as the big cities. You still stood out. And my nickname is Beasty." Beasty playfully tapped my shoulder, then pulled back her hand as if she startled herself.

I caught it, and pulled it into my lap, careful not to knock the popcorn on the floor.

Her fingers were long and slender, and her skin a little chaffed, but soft, like she"d started applying lotion recently. So different from my own.

"Is this okay?" I whispered.

Swallowing hard, her gaze locked on our intertwined fingers. She didn"t answer, just turned on the movie.

Cheerful notes from the opening song started to play. Beasty clicked the lamp off and we were left in the dark, with only the light from the TV.

I wanted to stare at her so bad. I ached to turn my head and look.

Nothing in the movie registered, although this was one of the few I"d seen before. Instead, I focused on her breathing, on the feel of her skin against mine.

Every sensation was so vivid and electric, I clenched my teeth.

I was sitting here with Beasty. She was holding my hand. Spending time with me.

She fidgeted just enough that I allowed myself to turn my head.

At first, I studied her profile. The different light played over her features, highlighting different micro-expressions.

She cut her eyes at me and froze.

A slow smile took over my mouth as she shifted enough to face me.

"What?" she whispered.

"I really like you, Beasty," I blurted it out. Just spilled my guts right there on the couch. I got so hot, I started to tug on the scarf with my free hand.

Her eyes widened to round moons, and then she swallowed again.

"Do you like me too?" I asked. Her cues filled me up with golden courage.

Beasty's lips trembled and her tongue snuck out to lick across the bottom. Orange and blue light flickered across half of her face, reflecting from her eyes.

It never made sense before. Our obsession with this girl who saved us.

It did, but it didn"t.

Right then, gazing into her eyes, everything clicked into place.

She was mine. I wanted her to be only mine and I would be only hers.

"Do you like me, Beasty?" I asked again, leaning in the barest amount. Her reactions said she did, but I wanted to hear her say it.

"Yes."

My eyelids fluttered closed. That one word washed over me, pushing away so many of my hurts.

"Can I..." I shivered. "Can I kiss you?" I looked deep into her eyes.

Beasty bobbed her head, meeting me halfway.

There was no rush. No pressure. Just a gentle brush of lips that turned into more.

I tingled where our skin touched. Little fireworks exploding inside my chest and mind. Using my thumb, I rubbed circles on her inner wrist, just as captivated by her warmth as her taste.

My first kiss. It was perfect.

She grew bolder, leaning deeper, sliding her tongue along my lips until I opened my mouth and let her in. Pulling the scarf from my neck, I slid it around hers, holding her to me. It smelled of me and I wanted to claim her for my own.

I groaned as my dick hardened.

Then she jumped and tried to lean away. Letting go of the scarf, she moved back at least a foot from me. It took a few seconds to catch my breath.

What had just happened? The first crushing thought was that she regretted the kiss. But she wasn't looking at me at all.

Beasty stared at the door, biting her lip. A key scraped against the lock, then Joaquin walked through the door.

My pulse pounded in my ears and I swallowed the sand in my mouth.

She acted like we"d been caught doing something wrong. Hell, I felt like we"d been caught doing something wrong. But we hadn"t.

This was the most right thing that had ever happened to me in my life.

I"d live every single moment over again, a hundred times more, to reach this moment.

"I"m sorry. I need to go to the bathroom. I think I should just go to bed," she stammered as she knocked the bowl into my lap. I caught it before it spilled, but she was already gone.

Glancing up, Atlas and Joaquin were in front of me, fury and desire etched into their faces.

"You were making out?" Atlas" voice was gravel. Yearning. Desperate.

I shook my head. A denial was on the tip of my tongue, but squeezed my eyes shut.

There was nothing wrong with kissing Beasty. Nothing shameful in it.

It was beautiful.

"We kissed," I croaked. Knowing it was okay and confirming it, putting it out in the universe, were two different things.

Atlas dropped to the floor, sitting in front of me, and Joaquin raked his hands through his hair as he glared at the hallway.

He wasn"t angry though. He was tipsy. The alcohol leaked from his pores.

"How did it happen?" Atlas watched me with serious, unblinking eyes.

My mouth suddenly watered from my nerves but I ignored it. Nodding, I took a breath and reminded myself of who I was.

I was Kim. A master of expressions. A great storyteller. The calm in the middle of a raging storm.

"She told me all about her childhood. We traded stories, the light ones. We started with looks, until she reached out to hold my hand." I set the bowl of popcorn on the end table. "And when the movie was playing, we turned toward each other, like we were on the same page. Completely in sync. And we kissed."

"Kim," Joaquin groaned.

"You"re going to make me install cameras." Atlas" brows pulled low over his eyes. "That"s not a bad idea anyway."

"What else do you want me to say?"

"Does she like you?"

I nodded, bringing one hand up to touch my smiling lips. "Yeah. She does."

"Does that mean you"re together? Does she want that?" Joaquin squinted at Atlas as if to gauge his reaction to my answer.

"I hope so." I really, really did.

"We need cameras," Atlas muttered to himself again.