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Yeah. That did not look good. I was going to have to call my mom tonight and explain. If Angelique and Marcel had a problem with me telling my mother the truth, they could discuss that with her. My mom knew how to keep her mouth shut.
I’d meant to warn her before the show, but I left it too long. There was always something else more pressing than calling her and dumping more shit on her shoulders.
“How exciting to have a blooming relationship for us to keep up with each week. And don’t they make the best-looking couple you’ve ever seen?” Lola said, a collage of pictures showing up behind her.
Oh my gosh, I was so ready for this show to be over.
Luckily, they stopped focusing on us and more on some of the starters on the teams. My shoulders sagged in relief, ready for someone else to take the heat for a while.
This lasted until the end of the show when it showed Beau walking through the door of our apartment. He dropped his bag at the door and watched me for a bit. I hadn’t heard him, so I kept on dancing and singing to the music.
Then they showed him stalking over toward me, popping my thumb into his mouth, and sucking it clean.
“Oh boy,” Niki said in a breathy voice as everyone stared at the TV.
Beau and I danced, then he kissed me. And I swear I could still feel his lips on mine and the delicious tingle that had run through me.
“Holy hotness,” Jillian said out loud, all of her attention still on the television.
“Anyone else need a cold shower? Because that was some steamy TV right there, ladies and gents,” Marco said with a humorous tone.
“I do,” Gianna said, then a bunch of the girls agreed with her as they turned to shoot me their wide eyes.
Not ten seconds later, the door burst open. Beau entered, looking fit for murder. “Oh shit,” I said, rising from my spot on the floor.
He pushed a chair over to where the panoramic camera was. “Oh, double shit,” I whispered, hurrying over to him.
Beau stomped to the kitchen, yanking open the drawers with force. When he found my meat mallet, he stormed back toward the camera.
“Stop, stop, stop, please?” I begged him. Beau barely slowed. He stepped up on the chair. “Beau! It’s made of glass. Think for a minute. Broken glass. Puppies. Stop! I’ll get you a screwdriver,” I said, my hands up in the air, reaching for the mallet.
“I’ll give it to you when you give me a screwdriver,” he said in a monotone voice. Yikes.
I ran to the kitchen and found my versatile, electric screwdriver exactly where it should be. “Here, here, here,” I said, handing it to him as he relinquished the mallet.
That was when I remembered I had a living room full of guests. Darn it.
I spun around and rushed over to them. “I think the party’s over,” I loud whispered, urging them toward the door.
“I think the party’s just starting,” Gianna said, a huge, goofy grin on her face.
“Thanks for coming over, see you all tomorrow,” I said, nearly shoving them out the door.
There were a few tiny giggles and I heard someone say, “Wow, he’s even hotter when he’s mad.”
“Call me later,” Jillian mouthed to me as she held her hand in the shape of a phone to her head.
I gave her a flat smile and shrugged. This Beau I was not familiar with. I’d seen him angry before. Not like this, though. You could feel the rage he held just below the surface.
Once the girls were all gone, I leaned against the door. Looking over at Beau, he was still angrily fiddling around with the camera. The only positive thing I could hold onto with any hope at all was that he’d given up the mallet.
A knock on the door scared the crap out of me and I jumped. Looking through the peephole, I saw it was Trey. Crap, crap, crappity, crap crap. I opened the door a smidge and whispered to him, “Not a good time. See you tomorrow.”
“Open up, G. I’ve got your baby,” he said, holding up a puppy. Dammit.
I squeezed my hand through the small opening. “Okay, thanks.”
He shook his head. “Open up. We need to talk.” Then he pushed the door gently, but with intent, clearly having no desire to give up his plight.
