I can feel the confusion from earlier this morning returning to my stomach as she stands close to me, her head tilted to one side exposing the soft skin of her neck as she quietly nods along with Collin’s responses. In this moment, the only damn thing I want to do is protect her. No matter the cost. No matter what I’ll lose.
“I gotta say I agree with Maverick on this one, Collin. Don’t you think taking her to court is too much of a ballsy move considering what we are trying to get away with?”
“I understand what you’re both saying, but I need you to trust me. A restraining order would affect the credibility of anything she says against your marriage if you can show that she’s willing to go to such great lengths to move against you guys.”
“Who says she’ll say anything bad?” I interject.
“She might be angry now,” Collin says, “but once she’s had some time to sit down and think, she might start putting different pieces to a very dangerous puzzle together.”
Beth purses her lips and nods. “Even if her credibility is shot, whatever she has to say might make them want to dig deeper.”
“Sure, but at the very least, it’s a bullet in your gun. Don’t be fooled, Maverick. If she goes public with this, everything afterwards becomes war. You will have to fight to prove your innocence. Please promise me you’ll both consider it.”
“We will.” Bethany nods, bringing the phone call to an end.
Offering me a smile as forced as it is small, Beth takes off her shoes and walks over to the edge of the pool. I know better than to give her time to spin that pretty little brain of hers around all the reasons she should go running for the hills and so I make my way over and take a seat beside her.
“I’m sorry, Beth,” I say. For the first time in my life, I know just what it feels like to really mean something by it.
She turns to look at me with a questioning look on her small face.
“Why are you apologizing?” she asks quietly.
“Your violin,” I start, and my throat tightens as I recall the way the wood had exploded into tiny irreparable pieces. “I know how much it meant to you.”
She looks across at me and nods, the sadness in her eyes penetrating the last layer of resistance around my heart.
“I’m sorry too.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” I assure her.
“I named my violin after your mother, Maverick. What Jessica did couldn’t have been easy on you either.”
Her most prized possession gets smashed to shit and she still somehow manages to be concerned about me? I’m only slightly aware of how foolish I must look to her now as my face contorts into a sort of confused reverence.
I despise how undeserving I feel as she looks up at me with kindness and a trace of something I don’t dare to name. She stares at me silently, as though studying the contours of my face for a few beats before she speaks again. Her voice is low and melodic, and I find myself leaning into her.
“You do that a lot, don’t you?” she asks quietly.
“Do what?” I sigh, feeling the electricity buzzing between our hands without them touching.
“Blame yourself for things that aren’t your fault.”
Her words slice through me like sharpened knives and I feel completely and utterly exposed.
“No,” I say, more confidently than I probably should.
Beth turns to face me, her fingers lightly passing over mine, sending jolts through me before they fall softly beside my hand.
“No? Are you sure about that?” Her voice isn’t accusatory and the more she stares at me, the less in control I feel. The beating of my heart picks up by a fraction and my breathing comes out like jagged rocks as I look into her eyes. This is the part of relationships that I’ve spent my entire life avoiding. Not that we’re in a relationship – marriage and all that aside. If Beth were any other girl, questioning me the way she is, I’d have two choices.
Kick her the fuck out of my condo.
Or, 2. Bend her over the edge of the pool, plant my hand firmly over her lips, and pound her hard enough for her words to turn to screams.
Except, Beth isn’t any other girl and so I keep my hands to myself and try with all my might to hold onto my composure.
Silently she dares me to unravel. To expose my heart. In silent defiance, I refuse.
“I only blame myself for the things that are my fault,” I say, my tone clipped, my eyes not even considering looking into the depths of hers.
She nods, contemplating. “How is this your fault Maverick?”
“I broke her.” The admission feels like a weight released as well as a burden on my shoulders all at the same time. All of it made harder when, stupidly, I look over at Beth to see her shoulders dancing and her lips spread thin as she chuckles softly.
A part of me feels like I should be upset, and maybe I am, but I haven’t quite got the strength to show my anger towards her and so I push down on the side of the pool, intent on walking away.
As I start to move, however, Beth breaks the invisible barrier between us and grabs my hand.
“Beth,” I sigh.
“Don’t run away from me,” she whispers, and I close my eyes, shaking my head at the ridiculousness of her request and the even more absurd desire in my chest to comply.
“Today was supposed to be a good day,” I say.
Her expression looks pained, but her fingers still linger gently over mine. Her face becomes a mirror and all I can see is my own reflection staring back at me with the kind of compassion I had always longed for. I don’t know how, but I know she sees me.
I should hate it. I want to hate it, but something about the way her eyes shine free of judgment despite seeing behind my first mask leads me down the tunnel of hope that I shouldn’t dare to reach for. She will hate me the same way my father does if she ever finds out the truth about me. And if, by some miracle, her self-righteousness doesn’t allow her to sink as low as that, she’ll pity me, and I cannot decide which one is actually worse.
The silence between us stretches on into the night around us. Her breathing remains even, though I can see a subtle change in her eyes. Slowly, her hand moves away from mine and it feels like I’m getting paper cuts all over me.
She smiles at me and then stands.
“Fine,” she says with a smirk tugging on the sides of her lips. “We don’t need to talk about that.”
She isn’t wrong. What she isn’t right about, however, has more to do with her actions than her words. Slowly, carefully, she peels her top away from her body, revealing smooth, untainted skin.
“Before all this drama unfolded,” she continues, “I believe we were actually in a pretty good mood.” Her pants come off to reveal boy cut panties. The kind that hug her waist and cup her butt in ways that make my rapidly hardening cock jealous.
With a splash, she jumps into the pool, splattering my shirt and face with water. When she resurfaces, she giggles. “Cannon ball! Oh… my bad... was I supposed to say that before?”
The laugh travels up from the hollowest place in my chest and I stand to undress quickly before diving in after her. Beth isn’t just unlike all the other girls. She’s a whole new fucking species.
“You think you’re funny, huh?” I make after her, but she dodges me, her arms bending at the elbows as each stroke cuts through water, propelling her away from me.