There’s a glimmer of amusement in his gaze. “And that makes you…what? The evil queen?”
He thinks that’s an insult but I warm to the analogy. Caleb wants an evil queen, whether he admits it or not. He appreciated my ruthlessness and he loved my filthy mouth, while Lucie's the kind of girl who can’t resist a photo of kittens in a basket and couldn't utter the word cock if her life depended on it. Caleb will be bored any minute now.
“I'm the one he married,” I begin. “I know I fucked up. I know I lost his trust. But if he sees I've changed he'll—”
“It won’t matter.” His voice is knife-sharp. “He loves her and she makes him happy.”
I let my head fall to the back of the couch with an aggrieved sigh. “He thinks he loves her. There's a difference. And I made him happy once too.” Though it’s been a long while since I made Caleb happy, and it sure didn’t last long. Beck is kind enough not to point this out.
“So why are you here, at my house?”
My heart restarts its nervous, tripping pattern. I’m comfortable arguing. I’m comfortable demanding. But asking…begging? It’s not my forte. “I was hoping I could stay with you.”
“It's probably not the best idea,” he says, prodding his cheek with his tongue.
My stomach sinks. I really thought Beck would be the one person who wouldn’t turn me away. I knew he’d worry about Caleb’s reaction, but he’s always handled moral ambiguity well.
“Fine.” I climb to my feet, shrugging with an insouciance I don’t at all feel. “There are other people I can stay with.”
This is largely untrue. There’s only one person who’d welcome me right now, and he’s the last person I should stay with. Beck knows it as well as I do.
“Stop,” he says, and I fight the desire to smile. “You can stay. Just until you’re back on your feet. But there are conditions.”
I run my thumb over my lower lip. It’s so cute, the way he thinks he’s in charge.
“Condition one, no drugs.” My mouth opens to argue but he waves me off. “Yes, I know you said you’re clean, but I've heard that out of your mouth about twenty times before."
My fists clench. This is what I’m in for here—a thousand reminders about how much I’ve messed up in the past. “You have no fucking idea how hard I worked to get to this point so don’t you dare act like I'm incapable of improvement."
His expression remains flat, bored. "I don't think you're incapable of it. But it doesn't mean you're incapable of failure either. None of us are. So no drugs."
None of us are incapable of failure but you, Kate, are particularly susceptible to it. That’s what I hear and the fact that he’s right doesn’t lessen my irritation. "Fine," I reply, blowing my hair off my face, trying to be Good Kate. I’m only a few hours in, and being Good Kate is already tedious as hell.
"Condition number two: you don't fuck with Caleb and Lucie."
Anger steamrolls over Good Kate in a second. "Why are you taking her side?” I demand. “You've known me for years. You've known her for what, a month? A week?"
"I'm not taking her side. I'm taking Caleb's.” He rises slowly from the chair. “Do we have a deal or not?”
I click my tongue. “Whatever.”
He appears to accept this as agreement, which it really was not—Lucie doesn’t get to keep my husband just because I need a place to stay—and gestures toward the spare bedroom.
I cross the hall to peek in. I’ve never seen any of the bedrooms in Beck’s house—it’s oddly thrilling even if there’s nothing in there but a bare mattress laying on the dusty floor and a light bulb that swings eerily from the ceiling. “This looks like the room you'd hold a captive in,” I tell him.
His lips twitch. “I’ll have to keep that in mind for the future.”
I picture it before I can stop myself—Beck holding someone down on that mattress—and electricity surges through my blood. If I’m being honest, it’s not the first time Beck has had that effect on me. I remind myself—as I have before—that it’s probably the effect he has on everyone. I bet even innocent little Lucie fantasizes about Beck holding her down once in a while.
“I've gotta get in the shower,” he says, rising from the chair. “I’m already running late.”
A tiny echo of disappointment pings in my stomach. Even if Beck and I mostly argue, I sort of wanted him here. "You're already going back to work? You just got home."