Page 25 of Grudge Puck
“Yeah, all that too.”
“I guess you win at life, Beau. Congratulations. Your life ended up picture perfect, just like you always said it would.”
Bemused, Beau raised an eyebrow. “What's this about, anyway?”
“What?”
“You were always so competitive with me.”
“Me! Competitive!” I blurted out a laugh.
“Yeah. You are.”
“That's rich, coming from you. You'rethe competitive one.”
“See? Now you're fighting me over who's more competitive.”
I don't know how, but if you went toe-to-toe with Beau, you always ended up falling into his logic traps. If I argued with him, I'd only prove his point. Instead, I folded my arms and gave him a dirty stare.
Beau, eager to smooth tensions over, scooted closer to me and his arm went around my shoulder again. This time, begrudgingly, I allowed it. I hated that he felt like he had a right to get near me and touch me, but it wasalwaysmore work to fight him off. That's just how Beau operates. The harder you resist, the harder he comes at you.
Still, the subtle scent of his rich cologne was at least somewhat pleasant. If nothing else, you could say that Beau Bradford had good taste in cologne.
I sighed, resigning myself to try a different tact. “You just gotallthe attention. I don't know why you couldn't be pleased with that and leave it alone. Why do you have to rub it in my face?”
“You know what I think our problem was?” Beau asked rhetorically. “The teachers. They pitted us against each other—star student versus star athlete. They really didn't help, you know.”
I laughed. “Oh Beau, what are you talking about?”
“You never noticed? The teachers loved you. But me?”
I giggled. He was right about that, at least. “They couldn't stand you. They went out of their way to put you down. EvenIthought they were mean to you sometimes.”
“Yeah. I mean, they had their reasons—I was a punk. But you couldn't do any wrong in their eyes.”
“Even though you wereconvincedthat I had this dark side,” I reminded him.
Beau's arm, wrapped around my shoulder, gave me a tug. “You do, though.”
The goodwill we'd just built evaporated in a flash. “Really, Beau? This again?”
“Shit, remember your goth phase? You couldn't dress like that if you didn't have a dark side, could you?”
Embarrassed, I slapped my forehead. It'd been years since I'd had the misfortune to remember my six-month goth phase. But the truth was, the goth phase wasn't my dark side. If anything, it was my insecure side. I was convinced I was ugly, my body too awkward, my arms too gangly, my breasts too small, my legs too knock-kneed and bird-like. Somehow, dressing up like a goth gave me a way to hide all that and feel comfortable in my own skin … in a backwards sort of way.
“That was more of a teen rebellion thing,” I stammered.
Beau's eyes sparkled. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Hopefully it's not as obvious as your last secret,” I said with sass.
“It probably is, actually. But yeah. I thought you were one smoking hot goth.”
“Beau!” I back-handed his muscular chest again. A heat rushed into my cheeks. I was glad the club was so dark, so he wouldn't see me turning pink. Was I embarrassed? Flattered? I didn't know. But Beau's secret wasn't obvious atall.I never would've guessed he ever thought I was attractive.
Beau pulled me closer, into the heat his large body radiated. “What? Can you blame me? The fish-nets, the lingerie? Shit was hot as hell.”
“You sure had a funny way of showing it …”
