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I desperately don’t want to know anything.
And he wants to know everything.
“We’ll be late,” I say, withdrawing from him, pulling the material back into place.
He glances up. “We will.” His arm gestures to the open door, and I slide in, my head in turmoil. It started so well. And now?
Now I’m full of shame and hurt. Anger. Judgment. Disappointment.
Wasn’t the purpose of tonight to avoid that?
33
JAMES
I’m trying to figure out why the fuck I’m so bothered, and why she is now mute. The car feels like it could explode, the tension is so powerful. I need to clear my head. Get in the right frame of mind. Going in for a kill with anything less than composure isn’t wise.
I look across the car to her. She’s here but not here. And I think about the look on her aunt’s face. And her partner’s? His was equally disgusted. Shocked. Disapproving. They don’t like me. It was as plain as Beau’s withdrawal now. If they knew me, I’d understand. But they don’t know me, and they won’t know me.
“Why do you live with your uncles?” I ask, digging for information I already know.
“Because my mother is dead, my father is an asshole, and I left my ex at the altar on our wedding day.”
And she doesn’t want to be alone.
“You were going to get married,” I muse quietly, as if it’s news to me.
“It’s historic.”
“To the man outside the store?”
She turns her eyes onto me. They’re cold and empty. She doesn’t need to tell me to back off. Every fiber of her being is yelling at me to.
And I should.
34
BEAU
When we arrive at Ziff Ballet Opera House, the unbearable atmosphere between us hasn’t shifted. He asked some questions, I answered. That’s all he’s getting, and I know he must sense that because he’s been silent since. Silent and thoughtful. Angry.
He pulls the door to the lobby open for me, and I stand stock-still on the threshold, taking in the bustling space. My feet feel like they’re blocks of concrete, my pulse booming. James’s black mood isn’t helping. I’ll never get through this without him helping, and he looks in no mood to help.
Which means I can’t do this.
I pick up the bottom of my dress and turn, walking away, calm finding me the farther away I get from the building.
Or is it because I’m getting away from James?
I hate my final thought. Hate it.
“Beau,” he calls, but I keep on walking, unable to shake the awkward vibes or the displeasure on Zinnea’s face. I could endure it, maybe even disregard it, if I had any kind of reward. But her revulsion, James’s mood, and now this shitty atmosphere, has me wanting to do what I’ve become a master at.
Hiding.
My pace increases as a result, and I see the road approaching, the bus stop within reach.
“Beau!”
I step into the road.
“Beau!”
Look right.
“Beau, stop!”
But I don’t look left.
“Beau!”
I whirl around, seeing a car coasting toward me, and I freeze, paralyzed by shock. I’m grabbed and hauled back onto the sidewalk as the car zooms past, and I look up at James, startled. His face. It’s grave. “God damn it, Beau, what the fuck are you playing at?”
I blink, swallowing.
“Why are you running away from me?”
My eyes drop like stones to his chest. “Why are you angry?” I ask quietly.
“I’m not angry. I’m . . .” He breathes out heavily, as if trying to expel that anger. “I’m tangled.”
“Tangled?”
“Inside,” he goes on. “I’m in fucking knots, Beau.”
I look up at him. “Why?”
He closes his eyes briefly, as if gathering patience, like he doesn’t understand why I don’t get it. His hand slips onto my neck, his thumb circling my cheek, his spare hand on my hip, encouraging me closer to him. He dips and places his lips over mine, and the storm inside settles. Soft James. “I want to get to know you, Beau Hayley. And that’s come as a massive fucking surprise.”
I jolt in his hold, shocked. “What?” It’s all I can say. Being curious about me is one thing. But getting to know me?
Pulling back, he makes sure he has my eyes, and he stares so deeply into them, I fear all my secrets can be seen. It makes me look away, makes me feel vulnerable. This wasn’t part of the plan. I’ve fought my curiosity, so he needs to too. I feel like I’ve been derailed. He wants to get to know me. Does that mean he expects me to spill my dirt? Offload my demons and . . . and then what? We live happily ever after? And all of this is before putting mind to the fact that the first time I saw James, he was stark naked fucking a woman while a man watched.
“Why are you pulling away?” he asks.
I step back, and his hands fall to his sides. “This won’t work,” I murmur to my feet, feeling like I’m dying on the inside. “You, me, it can’t work.” A veil of bricks falls around me, protecting me. “You’ve fucked me. You know everything I want you to know.”
