4. The Side Eye, Dash

My heart pounded so fiercely that I feared it might flatline before too much longer.

What I hadn't said to Beau was that I had never dreamed he'd come to me with such distance, ready to leave me once again.

Had I not felt that peculiar sensation, if Alexis hadn't mentioned the hot newcomer, would we even be here right now? I doubted it which meant he still might walk away. Worry and anxiety took me past my usual resolve. The persistent energy I relied upon that fueled my bullheadedness in everything I did. The foreign feelings left me unsteady and uncertain as I tried to rapidly regroup.

Beau had been through hell. The grim reality showed in the set of his brow, the frown he wore more often than not, and in the way he kept looking down at his feet. His broad shoulders rolled as he took everything in around him.

The university insignia on his jacket confirmed my other suspicions. He'd been playing football. Was it forced, or something he'd grown to enjoy?

"Take a left," I instructed, following him.

"The first left of the night," Beau said, his tone held humor, washing over me like a gentle, reassuring caress, tempering the hysteria rising inside me.

As Beau entered my bedroom, the lamp lights and fans flickered on. He went to the middle of the room, the same move as in the foyer then again in the living room, and took it all in. "Who lives like this?"

"What?" I asked, shutting the door behind us. My eyes rolled involuntarily. I couldn't even pretend like I didn't understand the question. The bedroom was akin to a mini home in itself, complete with matching window panels in the same style as the rest of the house. When the lights initiated inside the room, so did the ones in the backyard, and swimming pool area. "Remember, I planned this house for you to live in too. Let me get your coat." I approached Beau from behind, encouraging his jacket off his shoulders. The T-shirt beneath clung to him with static, not purpose. The cotton was well worn, with a small hole near the hem. It didn't appear to be a fashion choice.

"Yup, I don't believe you." As I always imagined, Beau headed for the windows again. He was an outdoorsman at heart. Being cooped up in a city like Dallas might mess with something essential inside him. That was why I chose such openness both inside and outside of the property.

"You should." I tossed the jacket over the sofa near the window and went to the bar on the other side of the room. "Do you want a drink? I have assorted beers. I can mix a cocktail…"

"I don't drink." The firmness in his voice had my head rising from the refrigerator underneath the granite countertop.

"Not at all?" I asked surprised, having never heard anyone say those words before.

"No, but you go ahead." Beau took a seat on the sofa directly opposite from me. Elbows resting close to his knees, his stare fixed on me. It seemed a pivotal moment, but I had no idea why. As much as I might need a shot of liquid courage, I grabbed two water bottles and shut the refrigerator drawer.

"What made you think about deciding not to drink?" I asked, shaking my head at the confusion of my words while passing him a bottle. I circled around the coffee table to sit near him on the sofa. Both bottles went unopened, mine placed close to his on the coffee table.

"My father was an alcoholic," he said, and I angled my position, bending a leg onto the sofa to better see him. The confession caused pain, or perhaps shame, by the way he lowered his head, staring at his shoes.

"I'm sorry." Except I wasn't. Not in the least. The image of Beau being dragged away by his father was seared into my memory. The worst day of my life. I had no care for that man.

"Don't be," Beau said and tilted his head toward me. "He endangered a lot of people and died a pretty horrific death. He lived a rotten, self-centered life."

I nodded, unsure of the situation, but relieved that I didn't have to pretend sorrow. "He was cruel to you?"

Beau's head tilted down again. He did that more than I liked. "He could've done worse, but it's hard to imagine."

"What was it like?" I asked.

"I spent all of my free time trainin' or conditionin'. Durin' the down time, he kept me handcuffed to the furniture to prevent me from sneakin' out. He drunkenly read from the Bible most nights until he found it on tape. It played in my room around the clock. He had countless girlfriends there keepin' an eye on me, barely dressed. I think that was probably done on purpose too." Beau shook his head as if dispelling some memory. "He kept my mother from me. My grandparents both died. But the worst of it all was the number he did to my head. I'm not right."

"I'm sorry. Your father destroyed my life too," I added. "I emotionally couldn't let you go. I refused to pare us down to first love and let you be a side note in my life. My parents sent me to numerous counselors. I was diagnosed with everything from OCD to PTSD to narcissistic personality disorder for my control issues. The only thing that sustained me was my unwavering belief that you'd be back."

Beau's brow furrowed as he gave me a side-eye. "None of those diagnoses sound like you."

"Thank you." I placed a relieved hand over my heart. "I ignored the negativity. I've always wanted to shape my own world. Our dreams, the connection… It was real to me."

"It was two weeks," Beau said, leaning back in resignation. His hands rested in his lap as he stared at me.

I shook my head. "It was a solid month, but it doesn't matter. I met my one."

"Dash…" His voice carried the same doubt I'd heard so many times along the way.

With a lift of my hand, I stopped him from saying more. "I insisted everyone call me Dash. It took time but I refused to answer to any other name. My parents consider nicknames undignified. I suspect they view me as a complete disappointment."

Beau moved his palm to my thigh, gripping me there. "I don't like you thinkin' bad of yourself. I'll admit that I waited for the times I could check my phone for your messages. I read and reread them every chance I got. You saved my life, but you need to hear me, I'm not that kid anymore. I'm hard and mean and insecure as hell. I don't know my place or where I belong. I quit football which makes me unable to pay for school, so I'm out…"

"I thought your life's plan was to work as a delivery driver until you started a fishing charter service," I said, trying my best to hide my smile at the fun memory. Beau had always had two feet planted firmly on the ground.

The warmth of Beau's palm disappeared from my thigh. "I haven't been fishin' since that day I was with you. My old man kept me prisoner as he drank himself into oblivion." He bent his head again, eyeing his fists worrying together. "I turned into a coward. I never bucked him. I'm not sure I could be more disappointed in myself."

This big strong man felt small inside. What a waste. I edged closer. The draw we shared demanded I be as close as I could get. Hell, I'd crawl in his lap if he'd let me, but instead, I covered his hands with one of mine.

He eagerly adjusted until he held it between both of his palms. "It's like this." He nodded to our joined hands. "I only touched you to offer comfort. Now here I am, not lettin' go."

"I don't want you to let go. Much of what you've said resonates with me," Dash said. "I'm honestly a mess. It's worrisome how much influence you still hold over me. I knew happiness today. I haven't experienced it in years."

Beau nodded. "You seemed happy. I watched you trot down the stairs. You were wearin' your suit. It fit you perfectly. I doubt anyone could look as good as you. You command your life. It's really quite somethin'."

"You were there today? When I texted you about my win, a strange sensation overtook me. I felt you there. Just like tonight at the bar."

His grip tightened around mine.

"Congratulations on your victory." Beau grinned proudly at me with his second genuine smile of the night. Lost in what I wanted most in the world, I moved forward, filling the gap between us.

"You're beautiful to me," I whispered and nestled my cheek against his chest, memorizing the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Beau's rough palm cradled my face, his fingers weaving in my hair. He used genuine tenderness in the way his thumb stroked from my temple to my forehead. Time stood still.

"What about those absurd labels the counselors tried to put on you?" he said defensively.

I chuckled and closed my eyes, letting his touch heal the sorrow of the last many years.

"Don't worry. It's all things you're aware of. I'm a control freak. Stubborn and determined to live my life on my own terms, and I've chosen you. If that's considered insanity, I'm good with it.

This moment would go so much better if Beau dropped the resistance and let me in.

"I should go," Beau started. "I gave myself twenty minutes here before I needed to head out. We get along so well that if I stay longer, it'll hurt too bad when I leave. I barely survived losing you once." Those painful words were uttered as a whisper. His thumb continued tracing various parts of my face. The swipes seemed intended to memorize contours.

I tilted my head to better look him in the eyes. His hands remained on me, his fingers gently cradling the back of my neck. "I was shattered when you left. Everything was gone in an instant. The only way I could deal was by planning for the day you returned. When designing this house, I put the western motif in for you. These back walls retract for easy access to the swimming pool. You loved the water."

The pain surging through my heart threatened tears. I never cried, except over this guy. "If you leave, I have to go with you. If you agree to stay, I have a year and a half of law school left then we can move wherever you want. Please don't go. Please."

"I've gotta go back. I have Scott's truck. I was in the middle of gettin' my father's Birmingham house ready to sell when Scott encouraged me to come see you to put this part of my life behind me…"

"Scott knows?" I asked, astonished. If people were aware, why hadn't he come sooner?

"I guess he suspected for a while. He only said anything yesterday. I went dark after leavin' Sea Springs. I cut off contact with everyone. He was the only friend to stay in my life, and I made that damn hard for him. He surprised me when he showed up to help clean my father's properties. He's been a true friend. I need to return his truck. It's the right thing to do," Beau explained.

The continued peeks into his life were hard to digest. I rested my head back on his shoulder, adjusting until my face nestled into the crook of his neck. His cologne was nice. My lips pressed against the warm skin there. "It's late. Leave in the morning."

I intended to go with him. The timing wasn't good, but if we dropped the truck off, then maybe the turn around trip might take forty-eight hours? I'll be able to attend classes on Monday. Seemed doable. "Get up early. It'll be a safer ride and only a few hours difference."

A clever idea.

"I don't know. My mom's gotta be there with Scott by now. I figure if I can put my dad behind me, then I'll be better able to go find a job, buy a truck, find a place to live."

"Dallas has large corporate hubs of all the major delivery carriers. I'm sure I can get you an interview, or you can finish your undergrad here too. I'll get you into SMU with no problem."

"Dash…"

"No," I said, placing my fingers on his lips. "I anticipated you'd need help when you came back. I have resources ready for you."

"You can't fix everything..." he mumbled because I pressed my fingers harder this time. I made sure to align my face to his so he could see how serious I was.

"I'm confident I can. Especially in this situation." I pushed off the sofa, getting to my feet, drawing Beau reluctantly up with me. "Get some rest before you go—it sounds like you need it. My bed might be the most comfortable on the planet." When he didn't immediately refuse, I raised his T-shirt as high as I could reach. He did the rest as I assaulted him with my prying eyes. Damn, how did all that toned muscle get there?

My body was set alight, and my toes curled, as I thought about all the ways Beau could toss me around… Why weren't we having sex right this minute?

I didn't want to push too hard. With my gaze pinned to the floor, I forced myself to think of unpleasant things. War. Extremism. Poverty. Tomatoes. Sour Cream. Tomatoes mixed with sour cream… There we go. I started for my walk-in closet, tugging the sweatshirt over my head. "I have an ulterior motive. I want you to hold me and let's talk about nothing. We used to do that so well."

"We used to talk about everything," Beau said, luckily not detecting my wayward thoughts. "Nothin' was out of bounds."

"I have athletic shorts and an extra toothbrush in the bathroom," I called out just short of banging my head against any of the wood inside this closet. Wood. Jeez-us.

My sweatshirt hit the floor as I began to search for my athletic shorts, not an article of clothing I usually wore. The drawers opened and closed with my touch. Of course the last one held what I was looking for.

"Quite a closet. I've never seen anything like it." I navigated the jeans button through the slot and lowered the zipper. My hand reached for my cock, aligning the tip to peek out from underneath the waistband of my underwear. I hoped he liked what he saw as much as I did.

"How many suits do you have?"

"A lot." With my jeans hanging on my hips, I pivoted around to toss Beau the shorts.

He stood before me the same way except my hard-as-stone cock was met with not even a plump one in return. My tip dripped anyway. "You can dress in the bathroom. If you need anything washed, I'll drop it in, but the earliest it'll be ready is nine in the morning."

Beau rolled away from the doorframe, the tight cords and muscles all worked together fluidly. My cock hardened tighter which was really pretty remarkable.

"I'm not sure I agreed to all this," he murmured, leaving me standing there. I watched his jean-covered ass pop with each step he took. That bubble butt was perfect. He had a slight bow between his thighs.

I went to the closet's entrance and watched until the bathroom door shut behind him. No question, we'd be versatile as soon as I could get us there. I wanted to know what it felt like to be inside him.

My bottom lip slipped between my teeth. I bit down harder than necessary.

Get a hold of yourself. You have a long way to go.