Page 19 of Hogging the Hunk
The slight consolation was that Beckett missed Greg softening. She was staring at her hiking boots and had coiled herself behind the neckline of her sweater to hide her worsening blush for the situation I’d plopped her in.
“You’re still wearing the pajamas I gave you?”
Greg’s question scooped her from her embarrassment, and instead, she bristled. “I haven’t had a chance to pick up something else. It’s not like I’m wearing those particular pajamas because you… because we…”
Without a request from me, Granny had given me an earful about Beckett and her tenuous relationship with Greg the last time we’d seen each other in passing. She was walking out of Trixie’s cafe, The Pale Rose, having eaten breakfast with her bridge club while I was heading in to eat my weight in blueberry scones. The gist of what intel Granny insisted I have was that Greg had asked for a break from Beckett when she failed to comply with his plans for their future. The thought of someone coercing Beckett into anything was both laughable while utterly infuriating. It also explained why I had an innate dislike of the guy and, despite reminding myself I wasn’t her bodyguard, felt the need to step in as a second line of defense for Beckett.
As a friend. Or, in a simpler concept, a security blanket. One that offered the kind of warmth and protection that imbued courage.
I swallowed, though my throat was tacky and dry. As much as I loathed Greg, my mouth had gone sandy as I considered how Greg and I weren’t all that different. Once upon a time, I’d been a loser, too, and there were more than a few women who would have benefitted from someone else steering them away from me before I shattered their hearts.
“We should get going.” Greg moved his hand to Beckett’s lower back. She didn’t flinch or move away. The gesture was probably familiar. Perhaps even comforting. I stretched my fingers, trying to work out the ache caused by my hand jealously wanting to be where Greg’s had landed. “We could continue this conversation in private, Beckett.”
When Beckett didn’t move, Greg took the lead and slipped around our group, continuing down the trail, assumedly to the vehicle they’d rode in to get here. Together? Ellie muttered something inaudibly and continued up the path, not for the thrill of the hike, but to get away from the unease. I couldn’t blame her. At this point, crawling under a rock seemed like a genuinely good idea for all the awkwardness I’d caused.
That only left Beckett and me. Her gaze moved around the forest, and when it finally landed on my face, an ardent apology tumbled out of me. “Sorry for all…” I circled my hand, unable to quantify the horror I’d contributed. “That.”
With a flick of her wrist, Beckett dismissed my apology as unnecessary. “Don’t be. It’s not like you made anything worse. Greg and I… we’ve…”
It seemed neither of us had the right words for the situation.
Beckett pressed a hand over her forehead and offered a small smile. It was enough to ease the tightness from my back and usher in a smile to my lips, too. “I’ve got to go. See you around, Dr. Fox.”
She took a step, and I pinched a bit of her coat to keep her there. Just for a moment. “Everything alright?”
Beckett’s sigh spoke of the stress she was under. “It’ll be fine. Things are complicated right now. Greg and I are struggling to be aligned.”
Wanting to ask her why she felt it was important to be in harmony with a guy who I bet had worn body glitter at least once in his life, I kept my criticisms to myself. Antagonizing her wouldn’t help.
“If you ever need anyone, I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”
Her smile returned, and it was generous enough to reach her eyes. “So I’ve heard. I appreciate that, Milo.”
Throwing a glance at Greg, I had to ask. “You’re sure you’re not in any trouble? He’s not hurting you, is he?”
As if Greg knew I was whispering about him, he turned around, meeting my look with a micro scowl. “Come on, babe. I left my chapstick in the car and my lips are getting dry.”
Beckett’s eyebrows shot up her forehead and her smirk put my concerns for her safety to rest. “Pretty sure I could take any guy who’s crippled by dry lips.”
“True.”
Giving my forearm a squeeze, Beckett grinned at me. The stress she’d been carrying seemed to have crumbled off her shoulders. “Have fun on the rest of your hike with Ellie.”
Watching her go, I didn’t miss Greg’s triumphant simper. What he’d won, I couldn’t exactly pinpoint, especially since they were currently on hiatus, while I had zero claim to Beckett myself. Whatever relationship we had was superficial and cordial at best.
Forcing myself to turn around, I employed extra long strides to catch up with Ellie. Almost there, I heard a small cry behind me. Rocks tumbled down the hill and there was a hearty thump. Whipping around, Beckett lay off the trail, gripping her knee.
“Beckett?” Greg and I both shouted in unison.
Greg jogged the distance and squatted down next to her. His medical training kicked into gear as he assessed the damage. So he wasn’t completely useless. “What happened?”
“The rock I stepped on slid out from under me. I might have hyperextended my knee.”
“Ellie?” She was watching the commotion with widened eyes. “Hang on, okay? I’m going to see if I can help.”
Greg frowned as I approached. He reminded me of a coyote hunkered down over a meal he didn’t want to share. “I got it, man. People are my area of expertise, and since she’s not a pig, why don’t you go on and enjoy your hike?”
He wasn’t wrong that my medical expertise wasn’t of particular use to Beckett. That didn’t mean I wasn’t about to leave her hurt on the side of the trail. Putting my hands on my hips, I paced, feeling keenly as though I was imprisoned with no hope of escape.