Age Is Just a Number

The clouds crawled across the aqua sky and I wished I could be free like them. Sean's actions shouldn't hurt me like this. I shouldn't care. But I did. No matter how many times I tried to push the hurt, and all my emotions, away, they wouldn't leave.

Love. That emotion was the worst of them all: the rankest, the most foul. The most painful. Sean and I were supposedly soul mates, yet he went off and fucked his ex because I had too much morality. Despite that it was his fault, it made me hate myself. Maybe, if I'd slept with him, things would have been different. I'd be happier and not staring at the clouds like the lost soul that I was.

A sharp whistle snapped me out of the gloom and I turned around. Beck was standing on the steps. “Let's go!” he shouted.

“What are we doing?” I asked, throwing my legs back over the stone wall I was seated on.

“Just get in here,” he answered and disappeared inside.

I sighed and jumped down from the wall. The house was shelter from the horrid English humidity as I closed the door behind me. The door to the basement was open. I trod down the steep steps to the basement which was completely modeled into a dojo with the tatami floor mats and paper walls.

Beck was standing in the center of the floor, stretching his arms over his head in an attempt to loosen up. That was something he could rarely do, loosen up. When he was with Millie, he seemed relaxed, and our relationship had grown since I'd returned from the wilderness. Beck was someone I could rely on for everything even if he could be short and gruff about it. That was the way he'd grown up.

The years of violence and fighting were etched into his bare upper-body. Long, pale scars ran down his chest and abs. His back looked like he'd been whipped hundreds of times. His biceps had to be as thick as my head, and they too were scarred. His body—like most werewolves'—was rock hard, but it told a story. His skin was like paper, filled with memories of gore and loss at his own hands and others. It made you wonder what he'd seen. If he was caught off guard, those golden eyes revealed that much of his memories were far from good or tranquil. But most of the time, his looks were hard, stern, and sure.

“Alright,” Beck barked, clapping his hands together. “Let's go.”

“We're fighting?”

The Scot-Irishman cocked his head to the side. “No. I invited you down here for a jolly good tea time. Come, Jess! Get your head straight!”

I breathed out through my nose and stepped up onto the platform. Beck readied himself for my attack. Barely pausing from my entry, I kicked out at him, hoping to catch him off guard. He crossed his arms, blocking my foot from his chin. In one quick blur, he grabbed my foot and twisted it. I sent my whole body with his movement in an effort to keep him from breaking my leg. He took advantage of me in midair and threw me easily over his head.

I hit the floor and rolled away, jumping to my feet in a defense position. He threw a punch at my face which I dodged. He pivoted on his foot, coming in for a backwards roundhouse. I blocked it with my arms. He used the momentum from my block to bring himself back around with a frontward kick.

The way he used your own defensive moves to his advantage was unreal. If for one second, I thought I'd saved myself, he would come back with something that I caused. It always happened in this way. No matter how many times I put up a good defense, Beck broke through it.

I came at him, kick after kick, each aimed at his head and neck. But his defense was spotless. There was no way to get through it. I tried to throw punches, hits, anything. Nothing could get through Beck's defense. He caught my upper arm as it breezed past his face, and for one moment, we locked eyes. Without thinking I twisted my body and kicked the back of his knees in. He faltered and we struggled for balance, but I let go another blow and his legs buckled. Yet as we both went to the floor, he practically threw me under him.

My eyes closed. I expected to feel his weight crash down on me as my back hit the floor, but there barely was a touch. My eyes opened cautiously. Arms braced on either side of my head, only one leg rested across both of mine to keep me down. The other was bent, keeping him up above me. However, what held me there wasn't his leg. It was his eyes. They seemed surprised, almost lost. His face was inches from mine.

Neither us moved. I didn't try because I figured Beck would, but he seemed frozen in place.

“B—beck?” He seemed to start awake. He leaped to his feet and backed a step. “Are you okay?” I asked, sitting up.

“Yeah...yeah, I'm fine,” he answered quietly, rubbing his forehead. He held his hand out. I took it and pulled myself up.

“You sure?” I asked.

Beck nodded. “Yeah. We're done today.” In a blink, he was at the top of the steps.

Wrapped up in the covers, I stared up at the ceiling that night, memorizing every crease and crack. I couldn't understand what had happened. The way Beck was looking at me made me throw the covers over my face. It made no sense. Perhaps, I was over thinking things and it'd been nothing.

Someone tapped lightly at my door and I sat up. “Who is it?”

“Beck.”

I opened the door a crack. “Hey. What's up?”

“Collin will be training you from now on,” he said.

My eyes widened. “What? Why?”

“Its better this way.”

“No, its not. You're far better than Collin! Why won't you train me?” I demanded.

“This is the way its going to be,” he said and turned away.

The conversation was over.

I stabbed at my eggs, too pissed to care if a piece went flying from my plate. Gwen watched me.

“Everything okay there?” she asked.

“No,” I grumbled. My fork dropped with a clatter and I looked up at her. “Beck won't train me anymore.”

Her eyes widened. “Why?”

I shrugged. “I asked the same thing and he won't tell me. You don't know?”

The redhead shook her curls. “No. He hasn't said anything to me. So you're not getting trained at all?”

“He said Collin's teaching me.”

“So ask Collin. He'll know. Beck tells him everything.”

I sighed. “I don't know why he can't tell me.”

“Beck's a...You know the way he is. He trusts few and talks to fewer than that.”

“He should trust me,” I growled.

“He does. I'm sure he has a good reason for quitting.”

Sparring with Collin wasn't the same as sparring with Beck. My speed overpowered Collin easily, while with Beck, we were matched. Collin was a lethal, aggressive fighter, but he just couldn't keep up.

The two of us came to a stop after sparring for half an hour none-stop. We were both winded.

“You're fast,” Collin breathed, looking up at me from his doubled-over position.

“Thanks,” I said, evening my breath. “Collin, can I ask you something?”

“You just did.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Funny. Why did Beck quit?”

Collin shrugged. “I don't know.”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Really?” Collin shook his head. “Prick,” I grumbled.

“I'm sure he's got reasons,” Collin said, straightening up.

“Yeah, well, I'd like to know what it is,” I replied lowly. “He shouldn't be keeping things from me.”

Collin shrugged again and the two of us made our way upstairs. “Beck's got his reasons. I'm sure they're for the best. He's just watching out for you.”

“What's he watching out for me for? I should know what's happening.”

“Give it time,” Collin said. “He'll come around.”

It was late evening, already dark outside when we emerged from the dojo. I returned to my room and took a shower, rinsing of the sweat and loathing. Beck was starting to upset me. I hadn't seen him all day and usually he was around. I growled and scrubbed the conditioner from my head. This wasn't like Beck. At all.

I threw on my baggy t-shirt and shorts and moved for my bed when the light tapping came to my door again. I opened the door, recognizing the knock. Of course, I was right.

“You going to explain to me?” I asked Beck as he came in.

“I don't think I can,” he said, not meeting my eyes.

“Then what are you doing here?”

He shook his head. “I don't know.”

I rolled my eyes. “Beck, you are acting like...not like you! What the hell is going on?” He didn't answer.

I growled and grabbed at his shoulder. His hand latched onto my wrist and he slammed me against the wall. It knocked the wind out of me and I couldn't do anything but stare at him. He was inches from me, again his face so close I could feel his breath against my face.

Sean would have taken advantage of my position and kissed me, tried to get his hand under my shirt or somewhere else. He would have pulled some horny teenager move. However, Beck didn't. He seemed frozen again, staring into my eyes with some sort of lost look that quickened my heartbeat. Slowly, his hand brushed against my cheek, but that was the only movement he made. His eyes didn't even blink.

“This is why I can't train you anymore,” Beck breathed, pulling away. His husky, accented voice sent chills down my back.

We watched each other for several seconds as my back stayed pressed against the wall. Thoughts ran around in my head, like dice constantly rolled. His statement was vague, but I understood it perfectly. My body understood his. Something inside me pulled at him. One thought did constantly come back. When did this happen? The silence drug between us to the point I could no longer stand it.

“Are you going to kiss me?” I asked softly.

Surprise crossed Beck's face, but it didn't stay long. His lips pressed against mine as he shoved me harder against the wall. My hands fisted in his copper hair, pressing him closer to me. He kissed me harder, his hands pulling my hips closer to him. This shouldn't be happening, but my heart couldn't tell my mind to tell my body to stop.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, our lips moving more and more heatedly against each other. My heartbeat was beating so strongly, I thought it would burst. I still tried to kiss him even as he pulled away slightly.

"Jess..."

"What?" I breathed, leaning my forehead against his. His hands felt hot as they gripped my sides to keep me balanced.

"We can't do this," he said, beginning to unwrap my legs from his waist.

I flexed my calves. "Wait."

"No, Jess." His hand pulled at my leg. I didn't budge.

"Why?"

"I'm married," he chuckled nervously.

"If you loved Millie, you wouldn't kiss me like that...would you?" I suggested, making his eyes lock with mine.

"No," Beck answered finally.

His lips latched on to mine again. I gratefully kissed him back, entwining my arms around his neck. He walked forwards, carrying me to the bed. As I was dropped onto the mattress, I reached out for him, eager to have him so close to me again. My hand found his. His scarred, powerful body blanketed mine. I ran my hand down his now-bare chest; his muscles twitched.

Beck's hand slid up my stomach, taking my shirt with it. We broke the kiss for a moment to throw the shirt aside. His eyes were nearly black with lust. My heart began to flutter nervously. Beck kissed along my jawline, to my neck.

He doesn't love you...

I shut my eyes at the hissing voice that filled my ears.

He's just using you for a good fuck...Don't let him...

Beck must have felt me tense. "Are you sure about this?" he murmured against my already tingling skin, sending it afire. The voices ceased immediately.

My throat seemed to close. All I could do was nod quickly, leaning my head to the side to give him better access to my neck. Beck obliged me, lips and tongue tracing down the tensed tendons in my neck down to my collarbone. I groaned as he bit at my collarbone.

With Sean, I'd thought the feelings were strong, but being with Beck seemed to put us in the middle of a lightning storm. Electricity seemed to course through my body. Sean had just wanted to get in my pants for his own reasons, but Beck...It was more than that for him. Eighty-eight years difference did that.

The mechanics of it all, the way he treated me like I was something fragile, was like I was something that wasn't already broken and deserved to be kept intact. His hands were gentle as they roamed over my body, easing my doubts and fears. His voice was soothing, murmuring loving things in my ear.

I didn't regret that night at all.

My mind rose slowly from the fuzzy, warm confines of sleep. I buried my face farther in the pillow, smiling blissfully to myself. Last night had been...amazing.I hadn't agreed with Sean because I hadn't been ready, but with Beck it was impossible to stop. Last night had unfolded the truth. Sean wasn't my soul mate. Beck was.

I turned over slowly. Beck was still sleeping, one arm laying over his head, the other on his stomach. I bit my lip, contemplating what I should, if I should do anything. I decided on nothing and closed my eyes to catch a few more moments of sleep.

Fingers brushed through my hair. My eyes opened again. Beck was watching me, his long fingers stroking through my hair. His kind eyes extinguished any doubt and I slid closer to him, resting my head in the crook of his arm. Beck turned on his side so he could look into my eyes and his other hand began to trace lines up and down my arm. It gave me goosebumps.

"How are you feeling?"

I smiled slightly. "Good."

Beck revealed on his own rare smiles. "Good," he repeated. "I was worried."

I propped my head on my elbow. "Why?"

His smile grew. "Think about it."

"Beck," I sighed, placing my hand on his cheek. "If I had to lose my virginity to anyone...it'd be you."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"It didn't, did it?"

He chuckled, the sound radiating deep in his chest. "No."

"But...we can't help it," I justified.

Beck kissed my lips softly. "No, we can't," he breathed.

A knock on the door made us both jump. Beck was out of bed in a blink and I threw the covers off to search for my clothes. I settled just for putting on a shirt as another, more persistent knock came.

"I'm coming! Hang on!" I opened the door a crack. Charlie was standing there. "What?" I asked shortly.

"Just making sure you were still alive in there," the blond werewolf said with a smile. "Its past noon."

"It is?" My eyes widened and the Texan nodded. "Oh. Well. I'll be down in a while."

"Alright..." I shut the door before Charlie could finish.

I turned from the door. "Beck?" My closet door creaked open and he stepped out, buttoning his jeans. "You hid in my closet?" I said with a smile.

"Yeah," he said. "Where else?"

"I figured you'd pull some ninja move or something," I giggled as he pulled me over the bed and on top of him. I straddled his waist and kissed his nose. He didn't say anything and studied my face to the point I started blushing. "What?"

"You're happy," he said.

I quirked my eyebrow. "Am I not supposed to be?"

"You haven't been happy for a long time," he adverted.

"Its because of you," I answered. "You make me happy." It was true. Since last night, I felt...different. I hadn't felt this way since I'd first been with Sean, maybe not since I'd been human.

One side of his lips quirked up. "You make me happy too." Then those lips kissed me.

"I need to keep my promise," I said, pulling away. "I'm going to go take a shower."

"Want some company?" He grinned.

My jaw dropped. He'd tried to make a joke! "Are you serious?"

"No," he said, trying to suppress his smile. "Unless..."

"I'm good," I laughed and slid off his lap.

Beck sighed in mock disappointment. "Alright..."

I stuck my tongue at him and disappeared into my bathroom. I stood in the shower probably far longer than I needed to, but I had to get my thoughts gathered. Beck and I had...slept together. Despite the age difference and the fact that he was married. That thought made me cringe. I was no better than Jorden if I thought about it. I was worse that Jorden. I'd slept with a married man!

"Oh, shit," I grumbled, leaning my forehead against the marble shower wall. I was a freaking home wrecker! A skank, a whore, a slut. Everything I hated, I'd just become after one night.

Beck was gone when I came out. I quickly dressed in a t-shirt and jeans and headed downstairs.

"Jess!" Clayton called, walking out from the kitchen "Hey! Decided to be lazy today?" He grinned at me.

I smiled back and saw the surprise on his face. "Yeah, I guess."

He smirked. "You look happy."

"Apparently, I haven't," I grumbled, crossing my arms.

"No, you haven't," Clayton answered. "But that's good if you are happier." He brushed by me and froze. He sniffed the air and turned back to me. "Why do you smell like Beck?"

The color drained from my face. Hadn't half an hour in the shower been enough? "I don't know..." I said, trying to keep my voice under check. With returned happiness came vulnerability. I hated it.

Clayton quirked an eyebrow at me. I kept my eyes glued to his chest. "Jess...what's going on?"

"Nothing," I said quickly.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me into the broad hallway that led to the infirmary and John's study. "Okay, stop me if I wrong, but...Dear, God. I don't even want to think this." Clayton shook his head.

"What?" I asked, trying to play innocent.

"Beck and you were both gone for half the day, you smell like he was all over you..." He paused, awaiting me look appalled or to deny it. But I didn't. He sighed, thinking he had to spell it out for me. "Did you and Beck..." I waited and he sighed. "Did you and Beck fuck or what?"

"Yes," I answered.

It was his turn to have the color drain from his face. "You did? You're kidding, right?"

I shook my head slowly. "No."

"Oh my God...I wouldn't have expected Beck--"

"It wasn't Beck's fault," I defended. "It takes two. Beck and I...I don't know how we didn't see it before, but this was meant to happen."

"That's wrong."

"I know it may seem that way, but its not. Don't tell anyone, okay? I can trust you, right?" I asked, looking at him pleadingly.

After a few agonizing moments, my pack brother nodded. "Yeah. You know I am permanently scarred, right?"

"I'm sorry about that. Just don't tell anybody."

"Okay..."

We walked back into the entry hall and I smiled at him. "Thanks, Clay."

"Yeah, yeah...Now I'm going to spend the rest of my immortal life trying to get that image out of my head!"

I smirked and walked back up the stairs. I'd made my appearance. Now I was going to go take another shower and stay in my room until Beck's scent wore off. However, when I got back to my room, Beck was sitting on the edge of my bed, looking a lot less happy than he when he left.

I sat down beside him, my face etched with worry. "What's wrong?"

His eyes were on his folded hands. "I told Millie things weren't going to work out between us anymore."

My eyes widened. "You did? But Beck. What if this doesn't work between us?"

He looked at me. "When else have you felt this strongly about someone?"

"Never," I answered slowly. "But...I don't want things to not work out--"

"It will," he said, lifting his hand to my face and brushing his thumb against my cheek. "We just have to work through what everyone's going to think."

"I told Clayton," I said. "He...smelled you on me."

"How'd he take it?"

"Said he was permanently scarred, but he'll keep quiet." I tried a smile. "How was Millie?" I asked cautiously.

"Devastated. I feel awful for leaving her, especially when she asked why." I could tell by the pain on his face that he was sincere. I felt guilty too, but his sincerity made me only love him more.

"I'm sorry," I said.

Beck shrugged and laid back on the bed, gently pulling me down with him. I positioned my ear over his heart, listening to its steady beat as he wrapped me in one of his arms, pressing me against him. I wrapped one of my legs around both of his.

He stroked my hair and that, combined with the rhythmic tune of his heart, nearly lulled me to sleep.

"It'll work out," Beck whispered, his breath tickling the top of my head.

I nodded slowly, my cheek grazing across his shirt a little.

"I love you."

"I love you too."