It's Complicated: A Reservations Story

Enchanting just turned to wildly naive, and that was damn sweet too. “I haven’t worked for five hundred dollars a date since I was seventeen years old, but I got paid differently. I worked my business on retainer and was selective with who I worked with. I averaged about three thousand dollars a night.”

Beckett’s head whipped toward Julian. “You made more than a million dollars a year? No shit? I feel intimidated now.” Beckett dropped his head on the back of the hard recliner with a thump. A defeated sigh slipped free as he released Julian’s hand.

“Hey now,” Julian started, turning fully toward Beckett. He shouldn’t laugh at such a genuine reaction, but Beckett was so damned cute in his insecurity. “I made a million and a half dollars my last year in business. I was such a dumbass shit though. Not focused on saving a dime. I never thought it would end.”

Beckett watched him. “No wonder it was so hard to get your attention. You must’ve thought I was a joke.”

The simplistic way Beckett had pursued Julian, the idea of wanting a man and doing what it took to be noticed, was something Julian had never experienced before. He’d never consider Beckett a joke. His sweet and sincere ways endeared Beckett to him, making the man shine brighter than any other.

“We’re talking about me, not you, but I can’t imagine anyone saying Beckett-the-beast is a joke.” Julian playfully slapped at Beckett’s arm when he didn’t readily respond. “You’re the one that brought up the topic. Stop pouting and pay attention. My problem was that I spent as much as I made. When everything came to a crashing halt, I was in quite a bit of debt. I rented a badass penthouse and leased a badass sports car. I never owned anything. I was always trading up. The adjustment in my income has taken a lot to get used to.”

Beckett’s hand came back to Julian’s as he turned, so they were face to face. “Why did you give it up?”

Julian rolled his eyes and let the words he never said aloud tumble from his lips. “Honestly, I know I got by on my looks. Now I’m damaged. My body’s not the same. It’s not personal, it’s business. When everything went south, Thane was the only one who stood by me.” Julian let the painful words sit there as he turned the other direction to get to his feet. Beckett wouldn’t release his hand, stretching his arm across the lounger. “It’s two thirty in the morning. We have margaritas to drink tomorrow.”

“Babe.” Beckett started with an endearment. The first Julian remembered hearing from him. He braced himself, squaring his shoulders as he turned back. The warmth of Beckett’s stare soothed the sadness that always enveloped him when he thought about everything he’d lost.

Beckett finally let go and fluidly rolled to his feet. He gave Julian a perfectly executed dramatic eye roll. Technically, that was Julian’s go-to move.

“You keep mentioning the scars. I’m telling you straight up, they take nothing away from your beauty. You’re gorgeous, Julian. You star in all my dreams. I wish you’d believe me.” Beckett came around the loungers to circle his arms around Julian’s waist. His deep concern touched a hard-to-reach place inside Julian. The emotion caused him to glance away, unable to hold Beckett’s caring stare.

The raw vulnerability was too damn much to process.

“I don’t know if you’re right. It seems insurmountable. Thane was the only one who continued paying me. Everyone else cut me off before I ever made it out of the hospital. I can’t explain how proud I was of who I used to be and what I made of my life.” Julian shook his head and tried to leave the embrace and head toward the gate. “I don’t want to keep talking about it. Stop bringing it up.”

“Did I bring it up?” Beckett asked, using his tight hold to draw Julian back flush against his chest. His strong fingers nudged Julian’s chin up to look him in the eyes. Maybe Beckett hadn’t been the one to take the conversation in this direction. Perhaps the blame did rest on Julian. He’d struggled to get past his body issues for a long time now.

“Of course, you brought it up. Why would I?” Julian teased, taking a sideways turn in the conversation as he tugged free. He went for Beckett’s glass and the empty bottle of wine. “I was thinking my California king is more comfortable than the sofa. If you promise to keep your hands to yourself, you can sleep with me.” Julian took a steadying breath as he digested his intentions at such an invitation.

The undeniable trust he had in Beckett was about to be tested. Silence held between them until he lifted and looked back. Skepticism tugged that tough brow down.