Chapter 11 It was late, but I wasn't tired, and nowhere near ready to end the night. After dinner, my driver took us on a meandering tour of the city. Near the arts district, Bea pointed toward a narrow, black row home, practically pressing her face to the window. "I love that house. It's me in house form." It was...a house. Distinctive only in its color and the matching black fountain in the small courtyard. But Bea loved it. Her longing for it was palpable. "Is it for sale?" She laughed. "The only way I could buy a house is if they took payment in hopes and dreams." Sighing, she tore her gaze from the street and turned it on me. "Can I show you something?" "Please. Show me everything." We ended up perched on a large, flat boulder in the middle of nowhere, beneath a sky so crowded with stars, it felt surreal. Certainly not a view I had the privilege of seeing often in LA. "Daisy likes to hike." Bea shrugged. "I'm poor, and it's free, so sometimes I'd go with her. This is one of the spots we discovered." "Do you come here alone at night?" Moonlight glinted off her smile. "I have, but usually, it's a daytime spot. I figured I'd be safe out here with you, though." "You are. Absolutely." Nothing would hurt this woman while I was present. The thought of not being around in two days made my chest tighten. If she came out here alone while I was back in California...I wouldn't be able to do a damn thing to protect her. It more than worried me. My brain started swirling with the possibilities of what could happen to her. Snakes, mountain lions, men, natural disasters- Her hand closed over mine, her index finger pressing against the side of my thumb. "You're going to make yourself bleed. Stop that." I looked down at the picked cuticle she was rubbing and inwardly winced. Bad habit. One that had left me with bloodied fingers more times than I could count. "Thank you. I didn't realize I was doing it." She gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "I get it. I used to bite the inside of my cheek when I got stressed." "I wish you didn't understand." I turned my palm up and laced our fingers together. "I'm glad you were able to stop. I do it when I'm deep in thought and don't notice until I'm dripping blood onto my keyboard." She hissed air through her teeth. "No, I can't allow that." I laughed. "I guess you'll have to come to work with me and swat my hand every time you catch me." She snorted softly. "As fun as that sounds, I think I'll pass." She stroked her finger along my rough thumb and sighed. "I'm going to send you something, okay? You don't have to use it, but it helped me." "Don't buy me anything." I'd done my research. I knew she wasn't in a position to spend money on me. "I don't see how you can stop me." She held up her other hand, wiggling her pointer finger. There was a narrow brass ring around it. Using her thumb, she spun the center section of the ring. "It's a fidget. I spin this when I get stressed instead of biting my cheek." "I'll buy one for myself if you tell me the name of it." She dropped her hand with a huff. "This is a nonnegotiable, Tore. I get you have more money than I'll ever see, but I'm not trying to buy you a yacht. I can afford a twenty-dollar ring, and I want to give it to you." I opened my mouth to argue, to name all the reasons I should be buying her gifts and she should be saving her money, but I stopped myself. Being rigid with Bea would only push her away, and that was not something I was willing to risk. "Okay. Thank you. It means a lot that you want to do that for me." "It's only because I don't want you hiring another girl to sit on your desk and swat you." "You have nothing to worry about. It's you on my desk or bust." Eventually, we lay flat on our backs on the rock, our hands clasped between us. It troubled me that Bea's pretty dress might be getting dirty, but she didn't mind, so I forced myself not to think about it. "What do you like?" she asked. "Besides practicing your computer genius." "Like hobbies?" "Anything. What piques your interest? For example, I've always been into vintage beauty products and methods. I taught myself how to do victory rolls from a YouTube tutorial. Did you know women used to draw lines on the backs of their legs and rub tea or gravy on them to mimic stockings during wartime?" I stared at her in the moonlight, utterly floored. I'd suspected she was unlike anyone I'd met, and now it was confirmed. Most people wore a mask to blend in, hiding the parts of themselves that didn't conform to society's mold. Bea, though? She had no mask. She was exactly who she was. "I didn't know that." "Now you do." She gave my hand a tug. "Tell me your thing, Tore." This was it-the moment I decided to be all the way myself. "Planes." "You like planes?" "It started when I was in high school. Do you remember that flight out of Indonesia that essentially disappeared?" She murmured she did, so I went on. "Once I heard the news, I had to know everything. From there, I went down a rabbit hole and never really came out." "Is your interest in plane crashes and disasters, or everything about them?" "Everything. I have an app that tracks the planes flying overhead in real time. Want to see?" "Of course I do." She wasn't humoring me to be nice. Bea's interest was honest and enthusiastic. For a long while, we played with the app, watching flights all over the world. I told her about different models and configurations, and she told me about the first flight she ever took. I had a tendency to drone on when I got excited, but Bea kept the conversation going, peppering me with questions, sharing her own thoughts. It wasn't a one-sided lecture. It was a connection. I couldn't explain how satisfying it was to share this with her in a real way. She was just as engaged as I was, and that was rare for me. This wasn't something I talked to Sam about. Every time I opened the app, he rolled his eyes, but I didn't think Bea ever would. It was somewhat of a deep revelation for me. Then I realized I hadn't asked her any questions about her interest-another bad habit of mine. I set my phone aside and swept my gaze over her hair. The top was arranged in pretty swoops that must have taken time and effort to achieve. "Are these victory rolls?" "Yeah. Do you like them?" "I do. Very much. Your hair was the second thing I noticed about you." Her eyes danced with amusement. "What was the first? My boobs?" "No. That was the third." She propped herself up on her elbow, putting her face above mine. "Tell me right now." "I overheard you being mean to one of your customers, and I liked it." "You should smile more, sweetheart." "Thanks, I'd rather be dead." "Oh, someone doesn't want a tip tonight. Let me explain something to you about the world-hey, don't walk away when I'm talking to you." "I'm sorry. You were talking to me? I assumed you were narrating your inner monologue. My bad." When I recounted the scene, Bea started giggling, letting her forehead fall onto my shoulder. I froze at the feel of her warm weight on me, but only for a beat before wrapping my arm around her shoulders to hold her there. She settled against me, the front of her body aligned with the side of mine in a way that felt impossibly right, like we'd done this so many times, our bodies had evolved into corresponding shapes that fit like puzzle pieces. "That might be the best compliment anyone has ever given me." Her fingers trailed over the collar of my shirt. "Please tell me you've never told a woman to smile more." I chuffed. "It's never crossed my mind. Why would I say that? If I wanted more smiles, I would work to make it happen." She burrowed her head more deeply into my shoulder. "I could really like you. Why do you have to live in California?" That was the question, wasn't it? I was a troubleshooter. A fixer. I saw a problem and worked the angles until I had a solution. This one...wasn't complicated. I didn't have to live in California. In fact, I couldn't think of a single reason to stay. Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!