Oscar needed a cold shower. He needed to run and dive headfirst into an icy cold lake. He was attracted to her. She was beautiful. She was his type. There hadn't been many women whom had gotten under his skin in his life, but she had managed to. All in the three hours since they'd been in one another's company. He couldn't want her. She is Beatrice. Bea. Henry's sister. Alex's friend. June's friend.

'Fuck!' was his only thought. Closing the bedroom door behind him, he cursed to himself. First in Spanish, then in English, then in Spanish again for good measure. He was almost old enough to be her father.

'But you aren't her father.' The traitorous part of his brain told him. She isn't your daughter. True, she was closer to June and Alex in age, but she was five years older than them.

The sound of knuckles rapping on the door interrupted his train of thought, and he was thankful for it. Oscar considered just calling out to let them in, but he didn't trust his own voice.


Bea couldn't sleep. Her mind wouldn't shut off. Most of her thoughts had centered around what had happened tonight and how everything else had gone. She couldn't believe that she had let him talk her into not taking her PPO, only for him to start his crap and make her scared.

Then there was Oscar, coming to her rescue. Listening to Raf and Ethan and their stories, seeing the close camaraderie between Raf and Oscar. Feeling like they were actually listening to her, when she spoke.

They made her feel free, like she could be someone other than a princess. Someone who was just Bea Fox. Now she understood why Henry loved spending time with Alex, his dad, and friend. These people were warm, loving, and open.

Oscar had been able to see that she needed more help than she was able to give herself. He hadn't judged her; he had just gone in and saved her. He had been easy to talk to. Even with Raf and Ethan there. But she was having second thoughts about how she had ended things with her boyfriend. She is having regrets she hadn't ended things with him, sooner.

With that in mind, she got out of bed and checked herself in the mirror before slipping out of the bedroom to get some water. She thought some water might help clear her head.

She hadn't. She had managed to confuse herself even more and tangled everything up inside her. Her thoughts and confusion were making her feel nauseous, and she thought that she might be sick.

She tried the breathing techniques she had learned in rehab. The same ones that Henry used to center his panic attacks. They didn't work.

She tried making lists, like Henry does for Alex when he's having a panic or anxiety attack. It didn't work.

She tried the mental Venn diagram that Nora used once. It didn't work.

She thought about writing everything down, like June did. Journalling her thoughts and feelings onto paper. She picked up a pen and the notepad from beside the phone on the desk. Her hands were shaking and the hotel's logo on the notepad was blurry.

Dropping the pen and pad back on the desk, she slumped over and tried to take deep cleansing breaths. It wasn't working. Nothing was.

Her legs felt shaky, as she took her body over to the other bedroom door and she knocked on Oscar's bedroom door, before she realised what she had done. When she blinked again, Oscar was standing before her. He was shirtless, and she let her eyes roam over his body. His sun-kissed tan skin was beautiful. Her hands itched to trace the evidence of his collarbone beneath his skin. His muscles were toned and taut. A small smattering of fine hair coated his torso, leading her eyes to the waistband of his plaid cotton shorts and underneath.

"Princesa?" Oscar whispered, barely believing her eyes. The Princess of Wales was standing at his bedroom door, in nothing but a lavender and black teddy, with an open while satin robe. "Are you okay?"

"No," she replied, scarcely believing her own voice. Her voice was husky, and she wasn't sure how much of it was due to her mental state and how much of it was because she found herself wanting the man standing before her.

He whispered, opening the door and holding his arms open for her. She stepped up into his embrace and he wrapped his arms around her tightly. Holding her close to his chest, he could feel her heart beating against his, as if it were trying to escape from her chest. "C'mere Cariña." He led her into his bedroom, barely letting her leave his embrace. He simply walked backwards, keeping her in his arms. He took a seat on the end of the bed and sat her down beside him. "Tell me, what is going on?"

"I ... I've ... been thinking about everything that happened tonight." Bea whispered, not letting go of Oscar. "Why did I let him treat me like that? I wouldn't usually let someone treat me like that. Why now?"

"Sometimes ... Sometimes we can't see past the end of our own noses when there's feelings involved." Oscar told her. His arms hadn't left her body. They had found the way to her satin clad shoulders and were rubbing her biceps instinctively. "Sometimes we can admit things to ourselves but can't vocalize them. Sometimes, you just need something to draw enough strength from, in order to walk away. Most of the time, it's an accidental happenstance. Right time, right place."

"I think I knew he was bad news." She admitted to him. "But I felt like I couldn't let go of him. He was the first person I'd let in since everything else happened. Everyone was so happy for me, I couldn't disappoint them. Do you know ...?"

"I know only whatever I've been told, which isn't anything much." He replied softly. "I don't follow the media or listen to idle gossip."

"I didn't deal well with Dad's cancer." Bea confided in Oscar, letting Oscar hold her close. Bea couldn't make eye contact with Oscar. Not if she was going to tell him the full story. She just couldn't. She found herself focussing on the wide, expansive croad chest she was leaning against, as Oscar held her close to him in an effort to calm her.

Soon enough the words were spilling out of her. All of it. The part where she abandoned her old friends and made new friends. How she had felt pressured to try the cocaine just once, by said new friends. How soon she was snorting as much as she could buy without alerting anyone in her family. How after her father died, she'd get high and let men use her body, just wanting to feel something, someone, other than the numbness of her grief. She told him of how their grandmother and Philip had staged an intervention, how Philip had forcibly put her in the car and drove her to rehab. How Philip's hands had left bruises on her body because she had lost that much weight and he'd been than forceful. How the same night under the cover of darkness, she escaped rehab, had gotten high on the first bit of cocaine she could get her hands on and called Henry at school. She had told Henry she was going to run away from home, and that she begged Henry to go with her and Henry had lost it at her. He'd taken (and by taken, she meant taken without permission) a friend's car and found her, right where she had told him she'd wait for him. How he had pulled her away from the man she had been dancing intimately with and Henry had begged her to stop. To get help. He had dragged her out of the dingy basement club and up into the alleyway, before Henry had broken down, crying. Telling her how he was afraid she was going to kill herself by overdosing on cocaine. That she had to stay and fight to survive because he was gay, and he was scared and alone. That if he didn't have her, he'd have no one. "He then took me back to his dorm room at Oxford and let me sleep it off. The next morning, I took him to breakfast and asked him to drive me back to rehab. I've been sober for five years, now."

Oscar pulled her closer and held on to her tighter. "You did it all for Henry?" He asked her softly, in amazement at the woman in his arms. "You made the conscious decision to get help and sober up, so you could be there for Henry. That's amazing."

"Henry's everything to me." Bea confessed to him. "Without him, I think I would have ended up overdosing myself, possibly killing myself in the process. I owe Henry everything. When Henry came out to me, it was like someone flipping a switch inside me. I knew I had to be better and do better. I needed to be there for him. He had always been there for me, and I could see how much he was struggling. I needed to step up and be there for him. He had been strong since our father had died and it was killing him. He needed me to step up and be the strong one, so he could break."

"That's not an easy decision to make." Oscar told her. "It's hard, especially if you were high when you made the decision. I am proud of you, for that."

"How long ...?" She asked, lifting her head to look into his eyes.

"Twenty-four years on March 27th." he replied, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. The significance of the date and number of years was not lost on her. Suddenly Oscar was speaking again. "I was only sixteen when Ellen got pregnant with June. We'd known each other only two weeks. My parents wanted me to marry her immediately. Very catholic, they were. Her mom refused. My parents kicked me out. Her mom was struggling to scrape by, financially. She was putting every spare cent she had into her bar, so they wouldn't lose their home, but she still took me in. I had to quit school and find work, to support Ellen and the baby. We got married when she was seven months pregnant, a small ceremony at the courthouse. After that, I worked hard. Reconciled with my parents. When June was born, everything changed. I was working harder and longer to provide for them. We were seventeen and scared. My Ma was watching CJ while Ellen went to school. On top of all that work, I was doing my GED at night school. Barely any time had passed, and suddenly, Ellen was pregnant with Alex. Meanwhile, I had been hiding my drinking from everyone to cope with being sixteen, losing my home, expecting a child and having to drop out from school. And suddenly, Ellen was expecting again. It was Ellen's mom who noticed the signs first. Not only did she run the cleanest bar in Austen, but she also volunteered at the church and ran the local AA support group. She convinced me to go. Gave me a big spiel and I believed her. It was hard and I did fall off the wagon. But when Alex came unexpectedly and there were complications. The doctor told me I needed to choose which one to save, my wife or my baby. In that moment, I mentally sobered up. I told him to save them both. Ten minutes later, Ellen was being rushed into life-saving surgery, she was hemorrhaging, and the midwife handed me Alex. He was smaller, smaller than CJ was when she was born. I looked down at him and promised him, then and there, I was going to sober up for good. I was going to be the best father I could be, and try my best, to be there for him and his sister. When everything was calm again, I confessed everything about the secret drinking to Ellen, she was hurt, but she stood by me and forgave me. I went to AA with Ellen's mom; she was my first sponsor and I sobered up. I haven't looked back. did community college at night school. Both Ellen's mom and mine, alternated on watching the kids while we were both in school. After college, I worked part time as teacher and Ellen went off to law school. We followed our dreams, but we couldn't have done it without Ellen's Mom and mine."

"Alex saved your life, in a way?" Bea said softly, much the same way he had about Henry. "Alcohol was never an issue for me, but ..."

"You had to give up alcohol to stay sober." Oscar finished for her. "I can understand that."

"I was drunk when I first got high. Now I choose sobriety." Bea reiterated to him. "I choose to refrain from alcohol, because that was my trigger."

"CJ and Alex ... they don't know the full story, but ..." Oscar admitted.

"Your secret is safe with me." She smiled. He felt her smile against his collarbone.

Feeling her smile against his skin was setting him ablaze from the inside out. "Cariña" He whispered into the silence. His voice was husky and filled with lust. He could feel her hot breath against his skin and the goosebumps left on his skin in the wake of her lips, as she explored his collarbone, drinking in his scent.

"We can't, I know." She sighed against the junction of his collarbone and shoulder. "But we shouldn't."

Oscar's eyes slipped closed. "I know." He moaned as he felt her place a feather-like kiss on his skin. "I want to, though." His voice laced with want and desire, as he kissed her hair. "Want you, too."

He had voiced his desire. He couldn't believe he had been brave enough to. He was holding Bea so close to him, she was literally draped across his upright chest, as they sat together at the foot of the bed.

"Is this, ok?" She asked, her voice betraying her slightly. She moved her leg against his and softly straddled his thighs.

Oscar let out a strangled breath. They shouldn't. Bea's new position had her straddling his thighs, causing her black and lavender teddy to rise higher up on her own thighs. The skin that showed now, porcelain white and silky smooth. His hands were no longer controlled by his brain as they made contact with the back of her knees and travelled up her legs softly and tantalizingly. "Beatriz." He whispered, rolling his r and using his Spanish accent in pleading voice.

"I need to." She whispered, as she closed the small distance between their chests and torso. He could feel the soft swell of her breasts against his chest, and it made him want her more. Their noses were touching, and she desperately wanted to close the gap, as did he. but neither moved.

"We can't." Oscar said softly, after allowing himself the indulgence of holding her close and having her body pressed against his. "I can't ... I can't be a rebound. I can't do this without ..."

"We really can't." She finished. "You're Alex's father. You're June's father. They're my friends." Beatrice pulled back off him and stood before him, more than a foot apart.

"I'm sorry." Oscar whispered. Bea put her finger to his lips and Oscar fought all temptation not to take it in his mouth or press a kiss to it.

"Me too." Bea sighed softly, pulling away further.

Watching Bea walk out of his room in a soft silk black and lavender teddy and white satin rob. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done in his life.