Page 35 of Rebel Heart
“And your parents are still married?”
No doubt he could see the crease that had formed between my brows. This was the strangest line of questioning I’d ever received. “Yes. So are my grandparents. And my aunt and uncle. And all of my siblings are married, and some of them already have kids or are expecting. Again, I’m still confused about what this has to do with anything.”
“Do you think that your family is just going to accept me, the tatted-up skateboarder who’s nearly ten years older than their youngest daughter or sibling?”
If I was honest, I had thought briefly about the age difference between us and how my family might react to learning about it, but I didn’t dwell on it, because it reallydidn’t matter. In the end, I was an adult, and if I was happy, wasn’t that all that mattered?
“Considering my brother, Cooper, and his best friend, Marco, who happens to be married to my sister, Ivy, are both covered in tattoos, I’m not sure why you think that you having tattoos is a problem. And what does it matter if you’re a skateboarder? You’re doing something you love to do and are very good at, and you’re on the team of one of the most respected board companies in the world. I’m a professional baker, who has her own bakery. It seems to me that we’re both doing something with our lives that makes us happy. None of this is a problem. Or, well, it shouldn’t be.”
Beau had stopped pacing. “The bakery is yours?”
“Isn’t that obvious?”
He shook his head. “No. I just thought you were someone who worked there.”
I guess I could see how he’d drawn that conclusion. “Well, I’m not. I’ve been baking for as long as I can remember. And as soon as I graduated from high school, I enrolled in an accelerated pastry program. My brother built me the bakery, and that’s what I’ve been doing for years now. You enjoyed all the desserts I made before you had this news. Does knowing that place is mine change anything?”
There was still such disbelief, such disgust, in his expression. He returned to pacing and mumbled, “I can’t believe I did this.”
“Beau, can you please sit down and tell me what’s going on?”
I hadn’t reached the point of begging yet, but if he continued to act like this without offering an explanation, I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be able to resist resorting to those measures.
“God, I’m such an idiot.” Beau was still muttering to himself, completely lost in whatever thoughts were ravaging his brain.
My heart sank. Was he regretting everything that had happened between us? Suddenly, I felt very vulnerable. With nothing but a T-shirt on, I climbed beneath the blanket and sheet on my bed and watched him for a few beats. But eventually, I couldn’t take it any longer.
“Beau?” He came to a halt and looked at me, like he’d forgotten where he was for a moment. “Please talk to me.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “This… This is kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Until he’d mentioned it, I’d completely forgotten that Beau had something he’d wanted to discuss with me. But now, I was even more confused than before. “You wanted to talk to me about my family?”
Shaking his head, he replied, “No. I…” Beau sighed, defeat washing over him. “I’m so sorry, Jules. If I had known all of this before, it’s unlikely I would be here right now.”
A cold, empty feeling settled in my stomach. I felt hollow inside. “I don’t understand. Are you telling me that you wouldn’t have dated me if you’d known I was a Westwood from the start?”
“No, that’s not it. Not entirely, anyway. What I’m telling you is that I don’t date anyone.”
Well, that was just plain ludicrous. “Uh, maybe I’m crazy, but what would you call what you and I have been doing for a couple of weeks now?”
“I date, Jules, but it’s not in the way that you think. I date in the sense that I’ll go out on dates and have fun, but I don’t date to find a wife or meet families or attend birthday parties.”
That’s when it hit me. “So… So, what you’re saying is that I was nothing more than just a good time?”
For the first time since he’d gotten off the bed to pace, Beau’s features softened, and he returned to the bed. He sat down on the edge of it and took my hand in his. “I cannot tell you how sorry I am, Jules. I never meant to hurt you like this. When I tell you that I enjoy spending time with you, I mean it. I think you’re incredible. But?—”
“But I’m only a girl you’ll sleep with, not the kind of girl you would ever consider a future with,” I said, cutting him off as his words lanced my heart.
“You’re making it sound so awful.”
“Imagine how it feels,” I scoffed. “Why would you ever show any interest in me? Why wouldn’t you have just been honest from the start?”
He let out a long breath. “I had no idea that you weren’t just looking for the same as me in the beginning. You were teasing and flirting from the start, and I thought you just wanted a good time, too. I mean, if I had known the night that I took you on the motorcycle when you asked to go back to my place that it had been years foryou, that it would only be your second time, I swear I wouldn’t have taken that step with you.”
That was like taking a knife to the belly. “Why didn’t you tell me afterward?”
“And make your second experience with sex no better than the first?” he countered. “I didn’t want to do that to you.”
