“That’s all right. Lots of people aren’t fans of the place.”
Hadley appeared, setting down what looked like a massive first-aid kit. “What can I do?”
“If you could make up a little sugary lemonade for Addie for when we’re done, that would be great.”
Hadley reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “Beck might be a bumbling idiot in a lot of things, but he’s a damn good doctor. He’ll get you fixed up.”
Beckett gave his sister a wan smile. “Gee, thanks.”
“Love you.” She kissed his cheek and took off.
“Little sisters,” he grumbled.
I focused on a painting on the wall over the TV as Beckett set to work getting his supplies in order. The art was the view of the mountains from the Eastons’ house, and it was beautiful.
“Addie?”
I jumped. “Sorry, what?”
“I’m going to flush the wound to make sure you don’t get an infection. It might hurt a little.”
“Okay.”
He sprayed something onto the gash, but I didn’t flinch.
He wrapped gauze around my finger, drying it. “All right. I’m going to close the cut with some medical glue. I’ll have to hold the wound together, but the glue itself won’t hurt.”
I nodded, biting my lip as pain shot up my finger.
“Almost done.” He leaned forward and blew on the cut.
The sensation made me shiver as my gaze shifted to Beckett’s full lips. His hair swooped into his face and had to be obstructing his view.
He surveyed my hand and then released it. “You should be good as new in a couple of weeks. Don’t get that wet for twenty-four hours, and I’ll need to recheck it in a couple of days.” He shot me a grin. “But I guess since we’re going to be roomies, I can do that anytime.”
I jolted at his words, struggling to stand. “Sure. Thank you for doing this. I’m sorry you had to bother.” The words tumbled out of me at a speed that made them barely discernable.
“Wait.” Beckett’s hand shot out.
The motion I made was instinctive, throwing my arms up to protect my face, but a blow never came. Silence echoed through the room, and mortification swamped me. I slowly lowered my hands, my face burning hot.
Beckett had taken two giant steps back. “Addie.” His voice was pained as if I’d stuck a knife between his ribs instead of sinking it into my finger.
“S-sorry.”
“Stop saying sorry,” he bit out. “Fuck!” He whirled, running a hand through his hair and pulling hard on the strands. He slowly turned back to me, his chest heaving. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have grabbed for you. And you don’t have to live with me if it makes you uncomfortable. I can come up with some excuse for Hayes—”
“No.” The single word was out before I could stop it. I should’ve been taking Beckett’s offer and running with it, but I didn’t. My eyes burned. I was so sick and tired of being a freak, of overreacting to every little thing. Of seeing monsters when there were teddy bears. “I want you to move in.”
“You do?” Skepticism laced Beckett’s tone.
“I want to be normal.” It was as much honesty as I could give him at the moment—it was more than I’d given anyone else.
“Normal’s overrated, in my opinion.”
I scoffed. Of course, Beckett would think that. He was a go
lden god. Tanned skin, deep blue eyes, and sun-streaked hair. He didn’t have the first idea of what being a freak felt like.