Southern Seducer: A Best Friends to Lovers Romance Page 10

Your favorite lady perv,

  Bel

  Chapter Eleven

  Beau

  We sit down to eat. The food I had sent over smells delicious as all get-out.

  Samuel nearly shit a brick when I told him last minute I needed the kitchen at the restaurant to pull out all the stops. But I was desperate. The least I can do is treat Bel to the best food and scenery we’ve got. Although I know nothing can come close to making up for the hurt I’m about to cause.

  Bel ups the ante right away as she picks at her beef tenderloin.

  “I liked it,” she says, licking her lips. Those fucking lips. “What we did last night. Beau, I really liked it, and I want to do it again. I admit…okay. I’m just going to spit it out. Clearly I’m into you. I have feelings for you, and I have for a long time. I haven’t acted on them because—just. Well, I’ve…I’ve been attracted to you since the beginning. Since we met, I mean. But I was terrified of screwing things up because I loved you so much as a friend, and you were always there when I needed you most. I also knew you were headed to the pros, and I was staying on campus, so…and then we moved to different places and had different lives. We were so different. I mean, we were the same in many respects, but in terms of—gah. I’ll stop there. But I needed to tell you. I need you to know how I feel.”

  I just stare at her, gut twisting.

  Ain’t that some shit? The girl I’ve wanted for nearly two decades wants me, too, just when I can’t have her.

  My heart bangs against my breastbone.

  She’s had feelings for me. Same as I’ve had feelings for her.

  My God. My God, all the time we’ve wasted. What the fuck was wrong with me for all those years? Why didn’t I say something? Why didn’t I do something?

  What a smug, assuming asshole I was. Thinking I had all the time in the world to make her mine.

  “Bel,” I manage. In her eyes, I see what I’m thinking: that I don’t want this to crater the awesome relationship we already have.

  I also see a burning need to tell the truth.

  “You’re shocked I’m telling you,” she says, reading my thoughts. “But you’re not shocked by what I’m telling you.”

  I grind my teeth and feel a muscle in my jaw jump. “You’re right. I’ve had my suspicions about the way you’ve felt. I’ve had my hopes. But I never wanted to press my luck.”

  Her eyes flicker with the realization, going wide. “You—”

  “Have been obsessed with you since the night we met at that party?” I scoff. “Bel, wasn’t it obvious?”

  “No,” she blurts. “But now that I’m thinking about it, yes. A little bit. But you never—”

  “You never.”

  “Well, yeah. Because I was scared. You were so great to me, Beau.”

  “You always had a boyfriend.”

  “You weren’t a monk.” She blinks, putting a hand on her face. “Why? Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

  I lift a shoulder. “Because I wanted to give you the world, Bel. You had these big dreams, and I wanted to make them come true. But I couldn’t do that as a punk college kid who didn’t have two nickels to rub together. I guess I’d always planned to make my way in the world and then come back to get you when I could give you the life you wanted. Just as I was getting there, though—”

  “I got married.” Bel swallows.

  “Yep. You were starting a whole new life with someone else. I wasn’t gonna mess with that. So I threw myself into developing the resort.”

  “But my divorce.” She furrows her brow. “Why didn’t you say something after that?”

  “You weren’t ready, Bel. I could tell you were heartbroken, and I gave you the space I thought you needed. Selfishly, I didn’t want to be a rebound. It wasn’t worth the risk to me. I also wanted to finish everything up here on the mountain. Build that rambling house you’d always talked about so I could finally settle down. And you’d just been promoted to Managing Director, remember? You were thriving in your career, crushing those ambitions. I didn’t want to take you away from that. Didn’t want to hold you back by turning your head or whatever.” I meet her eyes. “I thought I had time, Bel.”

  “We still do.”

  I shake my head. “Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?”

  She grabs her water and gulps it down, then offers me a tight, sad smile. “It seems stupid now, but I didn’t want to be another hookup to you. I wanted more, Beau. I wanted to be, like, the one, you know? We were so young, though. And so ambitious, with wildly different dreams for our futures. Like you said, I didn’t want to hold you back from what I knew would be an amazing pro career.”

  My pulse thumps as I furrow my brow. “Hold me back?”

  “Maybe this sounds a little presumptuous. But I didn’t want you to make any big decisions based on me. Where I was, where I wanted to go. I knew how much potential you had, and I wasn’t gonna mess with that.”

  “Jesus,” I say.

  “I know. Another surprise, that I totally screwed myself over by thinking too much.”

  I let out a breath. Even to my ears, dulled by countless games in countless deafening stadiums, it sounds anguished.

  A familiar anger sparks to life inside my gut.

  I take a sip of water. “Listen. I really fucking enjoyed what went down last night. That much was obvious, right?”

  Another tight smile. “I had my suspicions.”

  “You’re a gorgeous girl, and goddamn are you one hell of a kisser. Kills me to think about all the kissing we’ve missed out on. But as great as it was, it can’t happen again.”

  I watch the lines of her throat work as she swallows. “Why not?”

  “Because I need to protect you.”

  “Protect me? From what?”

  “From me, Bel.” I lock eyes with her, silently begging her to understand.

  To stop looking at me with that soft heat in her eyes.

  I watch her cross her legs, then tuck the flat of her hand between them.

  My control is hanging by a thread.

  “The depression I told you about is only part of the story.” I look at the fire. “I’ve told you about the headaches I’ve been getting over the past couple of years. And you know about my insomnia.”

  “I have about two hundred emails you’ve sent me between the hours of two and five AM.”

  “Sounds about right. But recently, it’s all gotten worse. I have trouble focusing sometimes, and my moods are harder to control. There’ve been a few instances when my behavior…Bel, it’s not me. For a while, I could kind of mitigate the mood stuff and the sleep with exercise, diet, meditation, that kind of thing. I’ve tried it all, but it hasn’t been working the way it used to. My family was worried. I was, too. So I went to see a doctor. Many doctors, as a matter of fact. Got a bunch of scans. I’ve had a suspicion for a while now, given my family history—” Another gulp of water. Holding it in my hands, I look down at it, pulse thumping in my throat. Bel puts her hand on my back. “Bel, the docs think I have probable degenerative brain disease. CTE. Same as my dad.”

  She stares at me, her eyes welling with tears.

  I notice the glass in her hand starts to shake.

  Bel’s other hand wraps around the back of my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “My God, Beau. I’m sorry. So, so sorry.” She sets down her glass and sits up, angling her knees to face me. My heart clenches when I see she’s crying. “Talk to me. Tell me everything.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” I reach over and wipe away a tear with my thumb. I’m crying, too. “I’ll be honest, I’m not sure I would have if what happened last night hadn’t gone down. I didn’t want to upset you with everything you’ve got going on. I didn’t want to tell you when you were pregnant, either…”

  “Upset me?” She holds the back of her thumb against her nose and sniffs. “Beau, I had a baby. I’ll recover. Eventually. But you have a disease. That trumps everything. I’m sorry. I know I keep saying that, but
I just…I feel horrible for you. Especially considering—”

  “Daddy?” I take a breath. “I know.”

  “Well, him. And now your brothers, too. Do they know?”

  “My family knows, yes. But no one else does. Not yet. I’m not ready to share the news. I think I’m still kind of digesting it myself. As far as my brothers are concerned, obviously Samuel and Hank are already retired. They didn’t play as long as I did, and the positions they played don’t get as much contact. So hopefully they won’t…” I nod, then swallow. “I’m working on Rhett. He’s still young, and he thinks he’s invincible. I did, too, when I was that age. But he knows about me, and he knows I want him to retire. I’m hoping it’ll be in the next year or two.”

  Bel nods and says, quietly, “I’m sorry I didn’t know. I’m very sorry you’ve been suffering alone.”

  “It’s not your fault.” I reach for her, taking her hand and twining our fingers. Her touch feels…nice. A reassurance I need right now, even if I am sending mixed signals. “And I haven’t been alone. You know my family. For better or worse, they’re always up my ass.”

  She laughs. “Oh, I know.”

  “Seriously, though, they’ve been awesome. They make sure I take care of myself. Make sure I get the help I need.”

  “Good. What can I do? How can I help?”

  I shake my head. Of course.

  Of course she thinks about me and my shit when she’s the one who’s drowning.

  “Remember when you told me moms have superhuman strength? You’re proving yourself right, how many years later. You’re thinking about me and looking out for me. You want to help even though your life isn’t exactly rosy at the moment.”

  Bel blushes. “I said that? Wow. I don’t remember.”

  “It was in an email you sent back in college when my dad wasn’t doing well. I really appreciated that thought.”

  “Is that what you’re saying? That you’re using me for my insane mom superpowers?”

  “If you’ll let me. But in the meantime, the doctors are doing what they can to help me with my symptoms. Lots of therapy. Meds for the depression. Gym is still my happy place, and that does help. Getting that energy out, feeling good physically. But seeing Daddy spiral… Bel, I know what the end looks like, and it ain’t pretty. He was all bad at the end. I won’t do that to you.”

  Understatement if there ever was one.

  To most people, Riley Beauregard is a legend.

  To us, he’s a tragedy. There’s a reason Mama doesn’t talk about that time. Just like there’s a reason our beef with the Kingsleys ended when my dad’s life did.

  Before he hit forty, Daddy was kind. Hard working. A good husband and father.

  After, he was incoherent, mean, and a menace.

  Bel rolls her lips between her teeth, then looks at me for a beat. And another. “You think you’re going to end up like him? That’s why you don’t want a repeat of last night? Because you think you’ll just fall apart, the way he did. That you’ll end up breaking my heart.”

  Hearing her say it—Jesus fuck, it’s like a bullet straight to the chest.

  For several seconds, I can’t speak. The tightness in my throat is downright painful.

  I try to clear it. When I finally do get the words out, my voice is like gravel.

  “I saw what Mama went through with Daddy. We all went through it. I’m not doing that to you, honey. I won’t do it to Maisie, either. Y’all deserve the world. A real future to share with someone you can grow old with. Someone who’s gonna be a good daddy to that baby. As great as it sounds being that man down the road, I—” My voice breaks. I clear it again. “It ain’t me, all right? My father, he seemed to change overnight. There was no warning.”

  Bel looks down at our hands. She’s shaking her head, making her hair fall in her face. “Why you don’t keep women around—”

  “Yup. I think my heart knew long before my head ever did. Which, when you think about it, makes a sick kinda sense.”

  She scoffs. “Maybe this is the wrong thing to say. But I’m not asking for your forever, Beau. I mean, I probably shouldn’t…” Shrugging, she looks up at me, then sighs. “Never mind.”

  “No. Finish the thought.” Some part of me—the sick part—wants to hear her say it. Guess I just wanna torture myself. The way I do at the gym every day. Bring myself to the breaking point, because the push feels good. Even if it leaves me shaking.

  Her eyes flick to meet mine. She ducks her head a little, suddenly shy. “When we were younger, I wanted to be the one for you. I wanted to date you seriously. If that’s how things end up…well, we can cross that bridge when we get there. But right now—at this time in our lives—I’m thinking…well, while we’re being painfully honest, I guess I just want to be with you. Whatever that looks like. Casually, not casually. At the end of the day, I just want you to make me feel the way you did last night. I haven’t felt like myself since I peed on a stick all those months ago. But at the dock house—being with you like that—I did feel like myself. Finally.”

  I grab my glass and take a sip. I shouldn’t ask her because it’s just gonna make me hurt worse. But I do.

  “What does that mean?”

  Shoulders set, she meets my gaze head-on with vulnerability in her eyes.

  “It means I felt free. I felt like a red-blooded woman, not a dairy cow or a cranky first-time mother. I felt—” she looks up, searching for the words, then looks back down—“known and seen and safe. I guess being with you like that just made me feel hopeful again. You gave me hope that I’m gonna be okay, and that eventually I’ll find my way again.”

  Her voice wavers on that last bit, and she wipes away a tear with the flat of her hand.

  I’m dying here. In every sense of the word.

  “Maybe that makes me selfish, wanting it to happen a second time, and a third,” she continues. “But I have to be honest. Be honest with me, Beau. How did it make you feel?”

  Like I’d died and gone to heaven.

  Like I was gonna be okay, too.

  But I know better. And now she does, too.

  “Annabel, you made me feel everything, which is exactly why it can’t happen again. I could never keep things casual with you. You mean too damn much to me. You and I, we get along great. I know I’m gonna fall for you, and then I’m gonna want you to fall for me, and then…then I’ll want your forever. And maybe you’ll end up wantin’ mine, too.”

  “Maybe,” she says. “What’s so wrong with that?”

  “Watching Mama go through what she did with Daddy, trust me when I say that’s not a forever you’re gonna want. I’m already living on borrowed time here. Please, Bel. Please make this easy on me.” I meet her eyes. “I told you I need you. Now more than ever.”

  “Beau.” Her voice cracks. “I hate this. For you. I hate that this is happening to you.”

  “Welp.” I draw a sharp breath through my nose. “It is what it is. Now you know.”

  She shakes her head. “Your daddy didn’t know what was happening until it was too late. You know better, Beau. You’re doing a bunch of things he never did to fight what’s going on inside your head. I imagine there have been a lot of advancements in treatment since then.” This time, she takes my hand, placing it between hers. “Your story will have a much different ending than his.”

  “Doesn’t change the fact that what happened to him is happening to me, Bel.”

  “But you can change the outcome. C’mon. You’re smarter than this. You said yourself that you had probable CTE.”

  “Yeah. Because right now, they can only confirm it after you’re dead.”

  She looks at me, breathless silence blooming between us. “I’m telling you not to count yourself out so soon. You have time. Medicine, technology—who knows what they’ll come up with? You’re too young to give up like this.”

  I scoff. “Most days, I feel old. Really, really old.”

  “But you’re not. We’re the same age, and
I just had a baby, for Christ’s sake. Life may feel like it’s over for both of us right now, but after last night, I know it’s not. It’s not too late for you, and it’s not too late for us.”

  “Annabel.” I meet her eyes. “You gotta let this go, honey. I’m not changing my mind.”

  Her nostrils flare as she takes a breath. She looks down and picks at the fringe on the blanket tossed over the back of her chair, disappointment written all over her face.

  I silently curse God, myself, the choices I made. What if I’d chosen baseball instead of football? What if I’d stopped playing after that first concussion? The seventh?

  I gotta forgive myself. I didn’t know any better. No one really did back then.

  Still, the anger I feel is real and raw. Because now the loss is even more profound: nothing more than friendship with the most important woman in my life. Permanently.

  Fuck.

  “Okay,” she says at last, reaching for her water. “If that’s what you want, then I’m not gonna push it. I understand. What you’re going through…I can’t imagine. I’m happy to be here as your friend. I’ll always be here, all right? I promise you that.”

  “Thank you.” My throat is feeling tight again. “The timing just wasn’t ever right for us. Maybe we should take that as a sign we aren’t meant to be anything more than friends.”

  “I don’t buy it. Things are different now. In a good way.” Her expression gets wistful. “But, as you said, it is what it is. If you want me to go—leave the mountain—I’d be happy—”

  “Fuck no. Absolutely not. Stay as long as you like. You being here is help enough. Sometimes I think…I mean, what if it’s our last time together like this? Before I really start to show signs, and you start to get busy with Maisie and work—”

  “Stop. We’ll never be too busy for you.”

  I swallow. “I don’t want to ruin what time we have left, Bel. If we try for more, and it blows up—” I shake my head. “I’m not willing to risk it. I love havin’ you around. None of this changes that, all right?”

  She smiles at me, her dimple on full display. “All right.”