If anyone could understand the falsity of rumors, it was Kenna. Her rep had been just as tattered as Harlow’s. More so, even. After one drunken night at a party, she’d gotten pregnant and had instantly become the town man-eater. But look at her now. Engaged to one of the richest men on the planet.
“Does Beck know you haven’t yet played your V card?” Jessie Kay asked, as if they were discussing a diagnosis of cancer.
“No.” Unless he’d guessed last night, which was totally possible. As experienced as he was, he could probably count how many men she’d kissed. “I’d prefer it if you guys weren’t the ones to spill the truth to him.” In high school, boys had reacted one of two ways. In challenge, wanting to be the one to win the prize, or in amusement, wanting to shame her into finally giving it up.
But again, Beck wasn’t a boy. He might decide to have nothing to do with her.
Hadn’t he already?
“Don’t look at me,” Jessie Kay said, holding up her hands. “I don’t plan to tell anyone. I’d laugh so hard I’d puke before I ever even got the V word out. Not because of the V thing, of course, but because it’s you.”
Thanks. “That’s great. Wonderful. Meanwhile you guys haven’t helped me at all.”
“Well, when I wanted to get Beck into bed,” the blonde began, “I just—”
“Argh! No. Getting him into bed isn’t the problem. It’s keeping him there.” Though, if he went out with another woman tonight, slept with her after kissing Harlow, would she still welcome him there?
No. Of course not.
Probably not.
“Then I’m out,” Jessie Kay said. “Though I did go on a date with Daniel Porter the other night and he asked me out on a second.”
“He’s hot,” Kenna said, giving her friend a thumbs-up.
Pulling teeth would be easier than getting answers from these girls. “Enough about Daniel!”
“Someone’s a she-beast today.” Jessie Kay nudged her sister. “How’d you keep Jase?”
“He says I am the sunshine in his darkness. What? I am.”
“That’s great for you, but I’m not exactly anyone’s idea of radiant.” Harlow’s shoulders slumped.
“You could try cooking and cleaning for Beck,” Jessie Kay suggested. “Guys love that kind of thing. Or so I’ve heard.”
She shook her head. “I firmly believe guys should clean the messes they make, without help from a girl. Amen.”
“All right. How about you, Ken,” Jessie Kay said. “How’d you keep Dane?”
“According to him, I breathed.”
That. That was what Harlow wanted. To be special. Treasured. Beck made her feel that way, of course, but only in spurts. And spurts just weren’t good enough. “Clearly, breathing isn’t going to be enough for me.”
“Then allow me to be a voice of reason,” Kenna said. “Be yourself. Do and say what comes naturally to you, what is right to you and for you. If he isn’t what you need, if he won’t step up to the plate, then he’s not the one for you, and he’s not worth your time and effort. Move on.”
Finally! Advice. And it was good. The kick in the pants she’d needed. But it worried her, too. Was she what Beck needed? So many questions had come to light during the conversation. Too many, it seemed. Why he was the way he was, and if the guy who so obviously hated change would ever be able to change himself.
Unfortunately, there was only one thing that would answer them all: time.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BECK STOOD IN a back corner of the hotel ballroom, surrounded by the very definition of luxury. Multiple chandeliers, each boasting thousands of heart-shaped crystals, were framed by an elaborate tin ceiling. The walls were draped with plum-colored velvet and twinkling lights, the floor a spectacular though dizzying pattern of ebony and ivory. There were twenty-five tables placed throughout, bouquets of roses and candles for centerpieces. Classic elegance, Brook Lynn had called it.
The kids on his soccer team gazed around with wide eyes, muttering “ooh” and “ahh.”
Tonight they were celebrating a winning season, and despite ranging in age from eight to twelve, each of the team members was dressed in formal attire. Something he, West and Jase had arranged and Brook Lynn had overseen.
Beck wore a tux tailored to fit him exclusively, and yet the tie felt like a noose around his neck. He wanted Harlow here, with him, but he was glad she wasn’t anywhere nearby. A terrible tug-of-war had erupted inside him, each side pulling him in a different direction.
He couldn’t have her without committing to her. He had to have her, but he couldn’t commit to her. It was the surest way to lose her forever. Already she suspected he wasn’t good enough or stable enough for her. And when she realized she was right, that he wasn’t, nothing he did or said would convince her to stay with him.
If he even wanted her to stay with him.
Damn it! If he made it through the banquet without punching a wall, he’d consider it a win. He shouldn’t be thinking about her. Shouldn’t care that she’d ended things before they’d even begun. He could move on, finally go back to the way things were. But he didn’t want to go back. Somehow she’d become his new normal. And oh, shit, he was going to punch a wall.
Jase stepped to his side, stopping him, and handed him a glass of champagne. “You look like you could use it.”