I almost escaped him. Almost escaped all of them. Every guy who’s ever called me a beast. I’d started letting myself hope I had a shot at something like a normal life. A relationship. Marriage. A family. I’d resigned myself to that blind guy when I was forty, but this new facade transformed my fantasies.
Look at Derek. Even Scott.
Crap. At the prom, Colby hit on me.
Somebody could love me. I’m not repulsive anymore. Meadow’s painful intervention gave me that gift. Kind of amazing.
This death sentence on my unborn slams the door shut. Natural selection wins. I am the Beast. Who could love that? The risks are way too high.
Maybe I can get them to rip it out of me—all of it. Everything that makes me a woman, that makes me yearn to love somebody, everything that makes me cry right now for babies that will never be.Empty.
God, take all these feelings,
Let me just be
A shell
Alone on the seashore
While life swells around me.
Soft tiny fingers,
That sweet baby smell,
Still the dream lingers.
Please, take me from this new hell—
Tears slide down my face. I wipe at them, angry. He shouldn’t have the power to make me cry. My father is a faraway shadow. I never even knew him.
Hot liquid pours out of my nose. Gross. I bury my face in my purse.
Somebody sits down on my bench, hands me a packet of tissues.
Derek.
“Thank you,” I whisper, rip out a soft white tissue, and wipe my nose. I try to hand the package back to him.
“Keep it. I’ve got a suitcase full.”
I clutch the package, fumble to open it up again.
“Bad news?”
“Kind of.” I get out another tissue and sop my face.
“I’m sorry.”
He sounds sincere. I want him to be—desperately need him to be. “Thanks for finding me.”
He puts his hand on my shoulder. “I was watching you. I can’t stop watching you, Beth.” He’s rubbing my back now—like you would a hurt child. “I could tell the call didn’t end well.”
I close my eyes. The tears are coming back.
“Is your family all right?”
I nod, swallow hard. “I had some tests done right before we left. My mom got the results.”
His hand stops moving. “You’re not sick, are you?”
I shake my head.
“You’re not going to die on me?”
“Why do you care?”
“I’m sorry. Do you want me to go?”
“No.” I sit up and stare at the lake, try to get a grip. “I can’t have kids.” Saying it out loud, to this velvet boy, makes it real, seals my fate. I break apart, can’t stop it—even with Derek watching.
“Come here.” He puts both arms around me, tucks my face to his shoulder, and holds me. The sobs win.
He whispers soothing stuff, hums a tune I’ve never heard, and rocks me back and forth. Never once does he say, “It’s okay.” You could love a guy like that. Easy.
I finally get control. His shoulder is wet under my face. I raise up a little. “Crap. I made a mess of your shirt.”
“I have four more just like it.”
“Your pasta will be cold.”
“I like cold pasta.”
I manage a smile. My lower lip shakes. “I’m sorry.” I smooth the wet spot on his chest.
He presses my head back down. “I’m not.”
“I must look awful.”
“I’m not looking.”
“I guess you can let me go now.”
“Do I have to?”
“No.” My throat aches like the tears are going to start again. “If you don’t mind, it helps.”
“Good.” His lips brush my forehead.
“Derek?”
Now he’s kissing my temple.
“I don’t really know you.” Is he taking advantage of me or does he know this is exactly what I need?
His mouth drifts across my face. “Sure you do.”
I close my eyes—can’t breathe.
His mouth finds mine. He kisses me, soft and tender, whispers, “Does this help, too?” And kisses me again. “I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks—since we chatted.” His lips caress and soothe as much as his hands did. “You’ve got me in some kind of spell. Am I rushing you?”
“I think—” My eyes drift open. “I want to be rushed.”
That brings his kiss back. My lips move against its soft touch.
“You’re beautiful, Beth,” he breathes into my ear.
“Don’t say that. Not today. If you knew the real me—inside.”
He takes my face in both of his hands. “What—you’re an ax murderer?”
That distracts me into half of a smile. “How’d you guess?”
“I knew it.” He bites my lower lip and tugs on it. “I love dangerous women.”
His kissing gets faster, more intense.
I pull back.
“Rushing?” He touches my face, kisses me slow and soothing again. “Are you feeling any better?”
I put my hand over his and whisper, “Don’t stop. It’s amazing therapy.”
“For me, too.”
“You need therapy?”
“I’ve had my share.”
Drug habit. Therapy. Dangerous. Genius. Artist. Who is this guy I’m making out with on a park bench in broad daylight on the banks of Lake Geneva in Lausanne, Switzerland? He’s no Colby. Not even Scott could be this understanding. He looks like an angel, sings like an angel. He found my breaking heart and coaxed it into a new rhythm. A rhythm so sweet, so captivating, so enticing, I can’t get enough.
Who is he?
His arms wrap around me, his mouth moves to my neck—
And I don’t care.
chapter 12
WHOLE
“Back off, Meadow.” That’s one good thing about being a beast. I know how to defend my territory—call it animal instinct.
She was on the sofa in the tiny lobby of our hotel watching for me. She’s on her feet and in my face before the door swings shut behind me. Too bad there’s not a window out to the street. She could have seen Derek kissing me good-bye.
“What happened to you. Your face is a mess.”
“I got some bad news.”
“And you had to drag Derek off because . . . ?”
“He noticed and came looking for me to see if I was all right.”
“You are so naive. You should have heard what Blake said about him after you both ended up missing.”
“Blake’s a jerk. Why would I care what he says?”
“Derek plays this game everywhere they go. Picks out a girl beforehand, overwhelms her, gets what he wants, and then the festival is over, and he vanishes on a jet plane.”
“Sounds like somebody else I know.”
“You mean me? Hardly. Ann Arbor isn’t that far from London. I’m after more than this week.”
“Until I got in your way.”
“Exactly. You need to step aside and leave this to a pro. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Hurt? She has no idea what it means to be hurt. “Too late. He kissed me.” We made out until he had to go to practice, and if this week is all there is, I’ll do it again every chance I get. Go home to your boyfriend, Meadow.
“I made you, Beth. Remember that.” Whoa. Now Meadow looks like a protective beast. She holds the dirty look long enough to make me blink.
I really want to pull this fake hair off my head, scrape the makeup off my face, and strip off every Meadow tainted thing I’m wearing. I hate that she’s right. Derek may love my voice, but it was the fake me he was making out with.