Chapter Twelve

Reed

"Lucy seems to be doing all right."

I catch the mention of her nickname, and my ears perk up. It's hard to make out the conversation from where I'm sitting in the living room, killing time until everyone takes off for Greencastle.

Tatum is upstairs, and with our roommates all home, sneaking away is proving to be more difficult than I hoped. The thought of possibly managing to steal her away later tonight is the only thing keeping me from going out of my mind.

I carefully push myself to stand and creep down the hallway. This house is older, and the floorboards creak, and the last thing I want is to give myself away.

"Any word?" Beckham's voice carries through the hallway.

It's hard to pick up anything from a one-sided conversation, but I have no doubt it's Tatum's brother, Talon, on the other end.

"Honestly, she seems good. She got a job at a bakery in town. Colter's sister, Wyatt, works there with her. She mentioned her first full week of classes went well, minus having assignments she has to make up. I've been keeping an eye on her, though."

I knew she was dealing with drama when we met at the hockey game, but that was a few months ago now. I would've thought shit would die down over the summer.

It's making me wonder if there is more that happened aside from a rough breakup.

"You said she deleted all her social media, though, right?"

My eyes narrow. I mean, I already figured she wasn't active on her socials. She hadn't posted, at least on her public profiles, in months.

"Well, I'm not gonna tell her. Plus, she changed her number, so unless she goes online or she finds out from Kara or Blake, I'm not gonna tell her. There's no sense in putting her through it again."

I make a mental note to do some digging tonight. I'm so absorbed in running through possibilities that I don't notice Beckham ending the call until he's standing at the end of the hallway, catching me off guard. His jaw is set, and he glares at me with a piercing intensity.

"Can I help you?" His voice drops.

"I was just going to use the bathroom," I lie. Beckham eyes me, knowing it too. "What was your conversation about? Tatum?" I shake my head. "My bad; I mean Lucy?"

He presses his lips together at the mention of her name.

"Her brother called to check in, wanting to see how she's doing. That's all."

We both fall silent, each of us waiting for the other to say something.

"Is something going on between you and Tate?" he presses.

"You mean Lucy?"

He clenches his jaw.

"I get the point, man. It's a fuckin' nickname. What's this about anyway?"

I shrug, crossing my arms over my chest. The floor upstairs squeaks, and I pause, straining to hear the familiar sound of her jogging down the stairs, but there's only silence.

"She all but packed up in a matter of hours and was moving in and enrolling at Braysen. I'm supposed to believe there isn't something more going on?"

"Well, have you tried asking her about it?"

"I'm just trying to figure out what all the whispering is about. Why is it like you're talking in some code I can't decipher?"

He chuckles, but it's not in amusement. "Listen, I know you get your rocks off by snooping around, but this is one of those situations where you need to mind your own."

"What would Hallyn think if she knew what you were up to?"

Beckham steps toward me, gripping the front of my shirt, and jerks me closer. We stand toe-to-toe, and I don't flinch, meeting his glare with one of my own.

"I said back the fuck off," he grits out.

I grew up getting knocked around. You could swing on me, and I bet I wouldn't flinch. After a few lost teeth, countless bloody noses, and more black eyes than I can count, you learn to stay unfazed.

I'd never lay a hand on Beckham. At the end of the day, even though I want to know why, I trust he's only doing it to protect her. At least we have that in common.

Nothing good could come from fighting with him anyway, but it doesn't stop me from wanting to know why he's being so damn suspicious.

"All right." I hold my hands up. "All right."

He lets go of my shirt, and I take a step back, giving us both some space. Beckham clenches his fists at his sides, his expression hardening.

"I don't know what you assume is going on, Reed, but I can assure you, whatever you think it is, you're probably wrong."

The footsteps I heard track down the stairs, and we both stop, exchanging a look that says let's drop this. For now.

"Just tell me this. She's not in any danger, is she?"

"Here? In the house with the four of us? Nowhere else she could go and be any safer," Beckham says, his voice firm.

It's not the answer I was hoping for, but he's right.

Just then, Tatum appears around the corner, her smile lighting up her face and hitting me like a punch in the gut.

"Hey?" She glances between the two of us. "I thought you guys were heading out to Greencastle?"

"We are," Beckham says, slipping past me. "You can ride with me and Halls, if you want."

"Are you planning on going?" Tatum turns toward me, and I fight against the urge to let this grin take over my face.

We had planned to stay in and enjoy the night to ourselves, but Everly convinced her to stop by for a while.

"I am. You can ride with me too, if you want."

"Yeah, that sounds good." She turns back toward Beckham. "If you don't mind, I mean?"

Beckham's eyes are fixed on me from behind her. "Of course, we'll see ya out there."

He jogs down the stairs, snatches his keys from the hook by the door, and waves at us before heading out, leaving Tatum and me alone again.

I've been dying to have her all to myself since we got home.

Tatum spins around, her eyes wide, brows arched, and a playful grin stretching across her face as she bites her lower lip.

I pull her toward me by the front of her pants, and she stumbles into my chest with a surprised yelp. Without hesitation, I lift her chin and kiss her fiercely.

She moans against my lips as I push her gently until she's pinned against the wall.

"I've been going out of my mind thinking about touching you again," I mutter when we break away from each other.

Her chest heaves, her eyes heavy with desire.

"About what?" She exhales heavily. "Tell me what you're thinking about."

My nostrils flare.

"I'm thinking about how damn bad I wish I could get you alone. I'm wishing we didn't have so many fuckin' people coming and going, living in this house. How I want to taste you and make you come on my face. We'll have to be alone because when it happens, I want you chanting my name so loud it'll be impossible for anyone not to hear you."

Her eyes flutter, her tongue darting out across her lips.

"What else?"

Mmm. I think my girl likes a little dirty talking, doesn't she?

"Right now, I want to unbutton your pants and see if you're as wet as I think you are. I won't be able to resist slipping my fingers inside you and see if I can get you off that way. I want you to come on my hand and then walk into the party, knowing your thighs and panties are wet from me."

"Reed," she exhales.

"Is that what you want, sweetheart?"

"Right here?"

"Yes, baby, right here. Right in the middle of the hallway, where anyone could walk in at any moment and catch me with my hand rubbing your sweet pussy."

Her hand darts out, gripping my forearm as if she's trying to steady herself but also desperate for me to touch her. To give her what I've promised.

"Unzip your pants and push them down to your thighs for me."

She releases her hold and does as I ask, her hands fumbling as she does.

"I want to see your pussy, Tate. Is it bare for me, or do you have any hair?"

"Reed," she repeats again.

"How about I see for myself," I suggest, and she nods.

When I kneel on the floor in front of her, her mouth drops open, her body trembling as I slip my fingers into her waistband and tug them down until they're around her ankles.

I wish I could say I took it slow and kept my cool, but when has that ever happened with Tate?

She moves her hands to cover herself, and I pull them away, lifting her palm to my mouth and pressing a kiss to the center.

I'm unable to resist any longer, my eyes flicking over to her pussy, and a low groan escapes my lips.

"Oh God." She shuffles her feet like she's seeking out some sort of friction. The scent of her sweet arousal hits me, and I'm a fuckin' goner for her.

I have been from the second I laid eyes on her.

When I lean in and swipe my tongue over her clit, her hands slide into my hair, holding me to her, and I don't let up. Not until she tells me to, until she begs for me to put her out of her misery.

My hands move blindly to her pants gathered on the floor, moving to free her leg and adjust her position so it's draped over my shoulder. The move opens her up for me, and I trail my tongue lower, alternating between fucking her with my tongue and flicking it over her clit.

Each swipe up and back down takes her higher until her body rocks in time with me, grinding against my face like she's desperate for more.

When I moan against her, she tells me to do it again, so I do. That's all she needs to send her reeling.

I grip her hip with one hand, holding her thigh with the other, not letting her fall. Over my dead fuckin' body.

The taste of her cum is the sweetest fucking reward too. She exhales a heavy breath and sags against the wall, her hand pressed to her chest as she stares down at me, struggling to catch her breath.

"What the hell was that?" she mumbles.

"That good?"

"Are you kidding me?" Her eyes close again when she says something under her breath I can't quite make out, but it sounds like, "You know where the clit's at, all right."

I help her step into her pants and pull her panties and jeans back into place.

"What about you?"

"What do you mean ‘what about me'?" I grumble.

She shakes her head. "I mean, don't you want me to, ya know?"

When I stand, she points at the obvious bulge in the front of my jeans. I smirk, adjusting it while shaking my head.

"Give me a few minutes, and it'll go down. This wasn't about me, though; this was about you. Trust me, it was everything I pictured and more."

"You're gonna be okay, though? You don't mind?"

My brows deepen, and I shake my head. "What do you mean by I don't mind?"

She appears to struggle with how to answer the question.

"It's just, it's not like I've been with many guys because, well, I haven't." This isn't where I thought the conversation was going. "I guess I would've thought you'd want me to return the favor because I will, ya know?"

I take a step toward her, crowding her space. I lift her chin until her eyes meet mine, wanting her to hear and see me, believe me , with what I'm about to say.

"I'm about to walk out that door with the taste, the scent of your cum on my lips. You think that isn't enough for me? You think that doesn't satisfy me as much as it satisfies you?"

She folds her hand over her eyes. "It's not what I…"

"Stop, move your hand, and look at me, Tate. Please."

She drops her hands to her side, and I lace my fingers with hers, linking them together.

"Trust me, I'm not saying I don't want you. Okay? The thought of you on your knees for me, taking me in your mouth?"

I stumble back a step, trying to shake myself from the thought.

"Fuck." I point down at my hard-on again. It was starting to simmer down, but it's once again showing off how very much awake it is. "Look at me and believe me when I say I want that. I want it so damn much. We have time, though. If we do this, whatever this is between us, I'm not trying to rush things. I want to take my sweet time and savor every inch of you."

Her eyes drop to my lips, and she nods.

"Come here," I reach for her, wrapping my hand around the back of her neck and pull her into me, kissing her again.

She hums, likely tasting herself on my lips, and I love it. Fuck, I love that she's right there with me.

"Let's get out of here. We should at least make an appearance, but if you want to leave early, we can."

Tatum nods. "As long as I'm hanging out with you, I don't care where we go or what we do."

Fuck, sweetheart, me too.