Chapter 18

I realized as we were walking that I was still in my uniform.

"Can we stop by my dorm so I can change?" I asked Beckham.

"You will want to keep that on. All the rest of the team will have them on at that party tonight," he explained as I stepped into the backseat of the car.

"Oh ok," I said, a little nervous at the thought of the party, and how many people were going to be there. I had about reached my limit for the day with how packed the stadium had been for the game.

Beckham must have noticed my unease.

"If you're not having fun, text me at any time and I'll pick you up angel," he said sweetly, wrapping his arm around me.

I laid my head on his shoulder, so happy to see him again. We chatted as we headed to dinner. Beckham wouldn't tell me where we were going, only that it was a surprise.

We pulled up in front of a high-rise. A doorman in a bright red uniform hurried over to the car to open our door. Beckham led me inside as the town car pulled away. I looked around in awe at the lobby of wherever we were. Everything was sleek and shiny…and very intimidating in its elegance.

Beckham led me into an elevator and I watched as the numbers slowly went up as the elevator moved. The doors opened, and I stepped out into a gorgeous apartment. From the enormity of the space, and how high the floor to ceiling windows rose, it looked like he had led me to a penthouse similar to Mason and Damon's.

"Where are we?" I asked, as I gaped at the lavish furnishings of blacks and greys around me.

"Home," he said simply, staring at me in amusement as I continued to gape and explore the space.

I looked at him quizzically.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I bought this place," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I knew as soon as you left that I needed to be wherever you were. You just started school, so I came here. You can see me or not see me whenever you want," he explained hurriedly. "I just needed to be near you."

Beckham looked young and vulnerable, standing in front of me with his hands in his pocket, waiting for my response to his huge announcement.

"But what about your career?" I asked, moving towards him hesitantly. His face lit up.

"New York is actually a great place to make movies. I had a script I was thinking about taking even before I met you. You just gave me the nudge I needed. I start shooting on it next week."

With that obstacle removed, I ran the rest of the way towards him, jumping up and throwing my arms around his neck.

"Does this mean you're not mad that I'm stalking you, angel?" he asked, grinning.

"Stalk away," I told him, crushing my lips against his exuberantly.

More so than with the other two, it was easy for me to get carried away with Beckham. Everything we did just seemed so familiar that it didn't require any thought to slide into the next step with him. We had ended up on the couch, Beckham's shirt off, my hands sliding up and down his perfectly sculpted body, when the doorbell chimed.

We froze. I realized how far, and how fast, we had gone, and slowly sat up, smoothing out my hair.

"That will be dinner," said Beckham regretfully. I nodded, blushing as I observed his gorgeous body and realized that I had been all over him. He winked at me and went to get the door.

I started laughing hysterically when I heard a squeak and some bags crashing to the floor. I could just imagine what that poor delivery person had thought when the door opened, and a shirtless movie star appeared. We were probably lucky she hadn't fainted and was injured.

Beckham came back into view holding a few enormous bags. He looked chagrined and was blushing slightly.

"What is all of that?" I asked.

Beckham reddened further with embarrassment.

"I wasn't sure what you would want," he said, beginning to unload the bags while keeping his eyes averted from mine.

I watched in amazement as he opened boxes of sushi, tacos, barbecue, orange chicken and fried rice, burgers, pasta, and Thai food. I didn't even know where to start.

"Dig in," he said as began to put a little bit of everything on two plates. "One thing you should know about me is that I'm going to do whatever I can to make you happy. Even if that means ordering from ten different restaurants to make sure we eat something that you want."

I stilled his hand.

"One thing you should know about me is that I'm happy just being around you."

I gestured to the penthouse around us and the food.

"All of these things are amazing, but they are like frosting on a cake. The cake is what I'm really after, and that's you."

Beckham beamed, his face brightening. Looking closer I realized that it was literally lighting up. Like I had done earlier, his skin was actually glowing.

"Um, Beckham…you might want to look in the mirror," I told him hurriedly.

He looked at me puzzled, but stood up and walked over to a mirror on the wall.

"Oh!" he said, sounding shocked. "Well, this is unusual," he muttered, examining himself in the mirror.

"It happened to me earlier at the game," I told him. "It didn't go away until I started taking deep breaths and relaxing. What do you think it is?"

"Well I told you that Mason thinks we are something similar to each other, correct?"

"Yes?" I answered.

"This rarely happens to me. I can probably count it on one hand in thousands of years. I have to be supremely happy to light up for even a second. I guess it would make sense that it would be happening now, since I've never been as happy as I am with you," he said affectionately.

I thought for a moment. I had been supremely happy at the game today. Maybe that was it. Beckham looked over at me, his glow fading now that he was relaxing.

"Did you know you always seem to have a faint glow about you?" he asked me, studying me closely now.

I stared down at my skin.

"I do?" I asked.

"It caught me eye at the Grammy's. I was talking to someone and I saw a glow from across the room. It was like you were a light flickering in the dark, drawing me in."

"You definitely have a way with words," I told him, hopping into his lap and giving him a kiss.

"I don't like how he looks at you," said Beckham, his voice oozing with frustration.

"He isn't looking at me that way," I answered, equally frustrated in having to have this conversation with Beckham again. "I have to deal with him since Mother is ill. That's all this is," I told him for what seemed like the millionth time.

"Let me at least come with you to the meeting," he implored. "The more Lord Tiberius sees us together, the less likely he will get any ideas about opportunities available to be king."

I didn't like this insecure side of Beckham. I sighed, and tried to see it from his point of view. I had never done anything that I could think of to purposely make him jealous. I hadn't even so much as admired someone else since I had met him as a child. Beckham was older than I was, and I had suffered through watching him in several relationships before I reached an age that he could take me seriously as actually being interested in him more than a child's crush.

I turned and touched his cheek softly.

"If I'm to be taken seriously, I must do this myself, my love. I can't imagine a world existing where you aren't waiting for me at the end of that aisle on our wedding day. Please support me by trusting me now."

Beckham signed and nodded reluctantly. I kissed him on the cheek succinctly, needing to hurry off to the meeting with my Father and Lord Tiberius. My mother had always told me "A queen is never late," but I didn't want to start off my first meeting in her role by being tardy.

Looking back at Beckham, I frowned. He looked troubled, as if he sensed something in the future that I was missing. I flashed him a smile and blew him a kiss as I walked away.

"Eva?" Beckham's voice pulled my from the vision.

"Sorry," I said, smiling ruefully, my mind going over the latest addition to the scene unfolding before me. "Just in la la land as usual," I joked.

For some reason I didn't want to share what I had been seeing with him yet. Not until I figured out what they meant, what Beckham was to me. A text sounded, Beckham frowned as he picked up his phone.

"Damon's wondering when he's going to get to see you, "he explained.

By the pursed look on his lips, Damon's comment was obviously a little more than that.

"I should probably go," I said.

As much as I was soaking up every second with Beckham after a week apart, a piece of my heart still wanted to be near Damon, especially to celebrate his performance that day.

Nodding reluctantly Beckham stood up and held out his hand, explaining that he would put the food away when he got back.

We got into the back of the town car, the driver whisking us away to where the party was being held. Beckham gripped my hand extra tight as we drove, obviously unhappy about the situation. How was I going to make sure that I balanced my time with each of the guys? I had already had to skip my call with Mason today due to the game and how busy I had been, something he was really upset about. I decided to think about that problem tomorrow and just enjoy the rest of the night. Hopefully it would be something that just evolved naturally.