Page 3 of Beau and the Beast

“I’m not joking,” Beau said. He could feel himself getting angry that Lincoln wasn’t taking him seriously. “I’m breaking up with you.”

Lincoln scoffed but seemed to at least be acknowledging Beau’s words, finally. He dropped the arm that had been around Beau’s waist and returned to his own stool.

“You’re breaking up withme,” he echoed. “That’s rich.”

He lifted his mostly-full pint glass and began to drain it.Yep,Beau thought.Here it comes. This was why he’d made sure to do this in public…

“That’sreallyrich coming from you, Beau,” Lincoln said, slamming the empty glass down onto the bar. He had a thin, frothy mustache from the beer’s head and Beau had to bite down a smile. “You’re not going to find a guy like me who puts up with your shit, I can tell you that much. Not in New Whitby and not anywhere else.”

He knew he should resist the bait. Beau bit anyway.

“Withmyshit?”

“Oh,whereto begin?” Lincoln said dramatically. He was getting louder and other patrons began to shoot them dirty looks. Lincoln held up a meaty hand and numbered things off as if he’d had a list prepared long beforehand. “The constant daydreaming, the weird recipes, the stupid book you’renevergoing to actually write, theboringconcerts—”

“Sufjan Stevens isnotboring! That concert was amazing and—”

“You’ve lived here almost ten years and you only ever want to do the stupidest tourist stuff.”

“Live theater and walking in the park isn’t stupid tourist stuff,” Beau protested. “We’re lucky we live here.”

“You’re probably wearing an ‘I Heart NW’shirt under that sweater, aren’t you?”

Beau frowned. Hewas, but he wasn’t going to give Lincoln the satisfaction of knowing he’d been right.

“If I’m so lame, it sounds like you’re the one who should be breaking up with me,” Beau pointed out.

“C’mon, babe, that’s not what I’m saying,” Lincoln said. “We’re different and that’s what’s cool about us. Plus, like,I’msmokin’ hot,you’resmokin hot—it’s a match, Beau.”

“You just listed off all of the ways you think I’m a boring dork,” Beau said. “And I’ll spare you the list of all the ways I thinkyou’rea boring jock. If we respected each other’s interests, that might be different—but I want someone I can grow with.”

There was a long pause while Lincoln eyed him. There was a calculation going on behind his cold green eyes and Beau prepared himself for whatever was about to come.

“Okay,” Lincoln said finally, casually. He shrugged at Beau with one perfectly-plucked eyebrow raised. “Go find him, then.”

He turned back to the bar and flagged down the bartender to order another beer. Lincoln was taking a new tactic and Beau didn’t like it one bit. Still, it was better than being insulted. He ought to get out of Kickbacks while he still could.

“Thanks for being mature about this,” Beau said. “I hope we can still be friends.”

“Oh, we’ll definitely keep in touch,” Lincoln said. “You’ll want to keep my number on hand for when you realize you’llneverdo better than me. I give it two weeks.”

“I’d love to have dinner with you sometime soon,” Beau said, ignoring the barb.

“Sure,” Lincoln said.

Beau fished in his pocket, finally producing a five-dollar bill to cover the soda he’d ordered. Lincoln stilled his hand.

“I got this one, babe,” Lincoln said, rolling his eyes.

Pride should’ve kept Beau from accepting the gift—but the truth was that he needed the five bucks more than he needed his pride, especially if Lincoln wasn’t going to be around anymore to help pay for things sometimes.

He sighed. “I’ll call you soon,” Beau said as he prepared to leave.

“Of course,” Lincoln said, nodding. “Good luck to you.”

Beau slid his slight frame in between strangers, ready to exit the bar.

“Hey—and good luck finding a decent guy who puts up with your fuckup freak of a little brother,” Lincoln said, slinging the words at him.

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