Now, I was in my favorite place, snuggled next to Beckett on his couch as we watched a horror movie. He had his earpiece in that gave him the audio description content. I'd told him he could change the settings on the television, so he didn't have to listen to it on his own, but he said he didn't mind.
Well, his exact words were, "I'll be paying more attention to your body than the movie anyway."
We were at the end. The deformed serial killer had returned from the swamps a second time, taking a few more hapless victims with him before the hero managed to blow him up with propane tanks he'd miraculously found in a broken-down shed in the middle of the forest.
It wasn't a likely plot line, but it was spooky, which was all the evening had required. Plus, I'd spent the whole movie plastered to Beckett's chest, something he didn't seem to mind at all. He liked it when I touched him. Often, if I sat on the couch first, he'd sit directly next to me, rather on the other side, making me be the one to crawl to him. I think that was what I liked most about him and why I was okay with the arrangement we had. He didn't withhold his affection. He didn't wield his touch as if it were a weapon. But that didn't mean I hadn't spent more of the day than I wanted to admit thinking over what Sophie had said.
When I'd given Seamus his prescription, he hadn't seemed like a man who was browbeaten or pushed down. He'd been on edge in the crowd but still happier than I'd seen him.
As the credits began to roll, Beckett stretched his muscular arms over his head. I liked watching the sleeve of his shirt rise up, revealing more of the rounded bicep of his arm that I already knew could lift me like I weighed nothing. "Time for bed," he said while yawning.
If I thought he would allow us to do anything but sleep, I might have been more excited for the prospect. I had slept over often, since he didn't like the idea of me sleeping alone while my mother was still at her conference. She'd be home soon, and I wondered how our arrangement would change.
"You don't want to watch one more? I know there's a sequel," I said, squeezing one of the throw pillows to my chest as Beckett stood.
He frowned and scratched his chin. He'd shaved this morning, but already a layer of bristle grew on his face. "It's late, Shiloh. We can watch the sequel tomorrow if you still want to."
I didn't even really want to watch the next in the series. This one had been predictable and a little too gory for my tastes, but what Sophie had said earlier stuck with me, and I was determined. "I don't want to watch it tomorrow. I want to watch it now."
Beckett's eyes tilted in the corners, and he sat back down, facing me instead of in the lounging position he'd been in before. "Did something happen today, Shiloh?"
I shook my head and crossed my arms, feeling more at odds with each passing second. "No. Nothing happened," I lied. If Sophie and I hadn't had our conversation, I probably wouldn't have argued against going to bed. I liked it when he held me until I fell asleep. And he never went to sleep before me, even though he woke up hours earlier to work out. Of course, I would like going to bed more when he finally decided we could go farther.
Thinking about that only made my glower deepen. Why should he get to decide when we had sex? I was ready now. Heck, I'd been ready last week!
He held his hand out to me. "Then it's time for us to go to bed. It's late. We've already stayed up later than normal, and we both have work to do. We have another round of video interviews, and the first one starts early," Beckett said sternly. "You can read for a bit, if you aren't tired—"
I pushed his arm away. "I don't want to go to bed, and I don't want you to treat me like a child!" I screeched, my hands bunched in tight fists at my side. "I know what we said, but you get to decide everything, and I decide nothing. I'm not a kid. We should be equal!" I didn't know where half these words were coming from and wished I wasn't saying them, but they were already out there. From my mouth to Beckett's ears.
I waited for his outburst, figuring it would come at any moment. He didn't reach for me again. He sat back against the arm of the couch, his whole body angled toward me, but there was space between our bodies. As usual, he wore soft sweatpants and a t-shirt that felt like a cloud beneath my cheek. I wished suddenly that I could just keep ogling him instead of continuing to fight for something I didn't really understand. I wasn't unhappy with our arrangement. Not even when Sophie had been talking trash about belonging to another person. But the more time that had passed, the more I'd begun to think that I should be upset with our arrangement.
"Are you finished?" he asked.
Normally, I hated it when people said that, but Beckett seemed to really be asking if I was done speaking. "Do I need more reasons?" I asked sullenly. I didn't know where this anger had come from. Maybe I'd been wound a little tight. We kissed and touched. I'd been completely naked in his presence and he in mine, but we still hadn't had sex, and I worried that I'd burst into flames if we didn't soon.
"No, you don't, Shiloh. I'm simply allowing you the space you need to tell me how you feel. I don't want you to feel like you are a child, not ever. I certainly don't view you as a child." His lip curled with distaste. "But I know that getting used to the type of relationship we have would take adjusting on both sides. I can't agree with your claim that I decide everything, and you decide nothing. Obeying is your choice, Shiloh. Are you unhappy with our arrangement?" He didn't raise his voice. It wasn't that he sounded happy or anything, but he didn't try to make me feel like crap for saying what I had.
I was doing a good job of that on my own. The absence of his anger had sucked the life out of mine.
"Shiloh, I asked you a question, I would appreciate a response."
Oh crap. Maybe he wasn't angry, but he wasn't pleased. For some strange reason, that sent a thrill of excitement through me. What was that about? I should've been worried he was about to kick me out. "Yes!" I replied obstinately.
"I'll remind you that you promised honesty," he said, his voice low in warning.
I sighed, more confused than ever. "No. I'm not unhappy." I found the pillow again and squeezed it to my chest as Beckett waited patiently. "I had this talk with Soph today. I didn't tell her about us, but the topic turned to relationships, and she said it was wrong to belong to someone. That we should all be free and equal. I don't know. At the time, I didn't think what she'd said affected me, but I guess it did. And I didn't like how she made me feel like what we have is wrong somehow. But I don't think what she said is true. Not for me, anyway. I like not having to make choices. It frees me from making the wrong ones."
His lips turned down, and he scratched his chin.
And I couldn't help but feel my outburst had ruined everything.
Chapter Ten
Beckett
Shiloh was a bundle of nervous energy, but I'd been waiting for this since we'd first started down this road together. It wasn't that I expected him to rebel, but the young man had a passion that made him the absolute opposite of a doormat. That was a trait I liked about him. Asking for the amount of control that I did wasn't because I wanted to take away everything that was him. I loved everything about him.