8. The Crybaby, Dash

Mobile, Alabama

"You're a crybaby," Beau said.

Hmm. I felt his playful gaze directed at me but didn't turn to look. I drove, and Beau acted as our tour guide as we made our way to the legendary Dog River. The place where he spent his happier childhood years.

"About what this time?" I asked, taking one of the many curves on this long and winding road.

"My mom was convinced you needed me in that bedroom with you," he said as if only now remembering the theatrics I'd used last night.

It had worked like a charm, and that was all that mattered. Not to mention, I was now a player in Beau's game that I completely crushed. "I win."

Beau swung around in the seat, rocking the car in all his abruptness to face me. "Stop claimin' victory when it's not honestly earned. Manipulatin' and lyin' to my mom about a made-up fear of spiders doesn't count as a win. It's not a win. I only gave in because she was goin' to sleep in there with you if I didn't. What happened to takin' this slow? Buildin' into things? Not pushin' so hard?" Beau asked. Again, I felt his glare on me. I didn't look.

"Regardless of your perspective, it's still a win per the rules of the game as I understand them. That's a five-time streak by now, right?" This time I did take a gander to see if steam came out of his ears when he hit boiling point.

Beau scoffed. "You don't have five wins. You have no wins by my records. By your shady set of rules, you might have two." He settled properly in place.

"Not true. I have three wins," I fired off, protective of the few things I'd been allowed to get right. Beau stared at me silently causing me to look closer between the road and that handsome face that held hints of anticipation and…ambush? No. I'm ashamed to say it took a minute.

Dammit, I fell for the bait. "Omigod, I was rounding up to five, not being literal."

"See? You don't play by the rules. You lie. I win."

Oh, I marked his smugness in my head. When the time came, he was absolutely being repaid.

"Take your next right, about a mile ahead."

He'd better be glad that I'd had such a nice day that I let it go. We had first tackled the attorney, then took a scenic tour of downtown Mobile. Dallas was landlocked from every which way. I liked the way the city of Mobile sprawled close to the Mobile River's edge. We walked around a park, took in the sunshine, and enjoyed the fresh air. No jackets needed, which was maybe the best part of the day.

Sadly, I played by Beau's rules, keeping my distance as he talked and shared his life. Spending so much time together, it was remarkable how we had no awkward moments. We were always so fluid together. Maybe. He sure liked to give me a hard time, but I decided that had more to do with everything he kept bottled up on the inside.

Overall, Beau's barriers were crumbling, his defenses melting. He watched me when he thought I didn't know. He listened when I spoke. When we did share an exchange, I saw the love and devotion he tried to hide. He made my toes curl. I was living the best version of my life. My dreams were coming true with every minute we spent together.

"When they built this road, why didn't they just make it a straight shot?" I asked, slowing down again. "Wait, I know. Because Alabama thinks crookedly."

"Your hair's darker," Beau said as if I hadn't just made the best joke in the world. "The roots are darker."

I nodded and pointed to the only opening in the road. "There?"

"Yup. Drive about four miles then you'll see neighborhoods begin. We'll be close then."

I took the turn as if it were a curve. Beau's hand shot out to the dashboard, steadying himself. "Hey now," he called.

Again, we were on a road with nothing but wide-open land before us. The scenic route didn't have much scenery. "I'm the only one in the family to go darker. I believe they call the color honey. During the winter, I highlight my hair. In the summer, it blonds up nicely."

"Hmm. It looks more brown than honey."

"Omigod. Can you give me a break on anything?"

Beau flashed the grin I loved, sucking me into his handsome face, before throwing me the ultimate curveball. "The rest of your family's super blond. Does the postman have darker hair?"

The accusations flew every time my family gathered together. My father blamed the milkman, whatever that meant. Honestly, I liked the depth of color in my hair. It didn't wash me out. Beau's laugh meant that he'd caught on to my overanalyzing the subject.

"Don't hurt yourself overthinkin' my question. My mom was super blond when she was a kid, but you can't tell now. You could've warned me in some of those text messages you sent. It might have changed my mind."

"I had to warn you?" This time, Beau couldn't keep a straight face. His lips were mashed together until they burst wide again with laughter.

"I'm kiddin'. You look great, like always." In his effort to set up the perfect tease, he'd delayed issuing a navigational checkpoint with only seconds to spare. "Turn left. It's comin' up quick."

I decided to take back control, and whipped the car to the left. The tail end did a little dance, fishtailing us through the turn.

"Hey now, you're gonna wind us into a ditch."

"You navigate and quit worrying about my hair. I'll add more blond."

"Don't change the color. It makes your eyes pop, and your jaw look strong." He gave the compliment so casually I had to look over at him to judge his sincerity. Hmm. I'd lost his eyes on me as they were now focused out the window. "Turn on the second street on the right."

The further we went the more traffic increased and neighborhoods formed. Memories of the guy I used to know, a good guy, a wild child, began to make sense. Beau loved the outdoors and lived life in such a way that he was allowed to run free without too much objection. The image of a younger Beau, his longish hair flying as he sprinted through the field toward me materialized. He grinned all the time and was never winded from his runs. He always wanted to be outside.

Being chained and locked inside might have been the worst thing that happened to him.

Absently, I asked. "Your hair's still long."

"Mmm hmm," Beau said. "My old street is on the left. Drive about a mile to the fourth cul-de-sac on the road to the right."

"What does mmm hmm mean? I like it long. I decided it'd be either longer or shorter by now."

"It's as long as it'll grow. I don't do anything with it. It's too short to tie back. I wore a sweatband to keep it off my face when I played. It's kind of annoyin'," he explained, then pointed as if that somehow helped me understand the directions better. "The second street up there. Do you see it?"

"Yeah. If it bothers you, why don't you cut it?" I asked, slowing until I found the road and made the turn.

"You know. The connection."

I saw Scott's truck in the driveway. "Our connection?" My nerves took flight. Scott had promised to keep Beau's secret, at least until after we left the area. Which meant I was back in the closet I'd never wanted to be in.

"The same reason you insisted everyone call you Dash. Hanging on to any connection to what we had."

Since I was in the middle of grappling with the sadness of hiding us from the world, it took me a few seconds of putting the car in park and unbuckle my seatbelt before I replayed his words in my mind.

"I like that reason," I said, and I did. We'd both hung on to the strings that bound us together. A rare admission from Beau. I barely had the visor mirror down when I caught Beau bending back inside the car, his face coming into view.

"I thought you'd have more to say."

I had to ignore our draw, or I'd give my feelings away to Scott's family. That didn't mean I wasn't affected. The silly, sweet grin plastered on my face as I checked my appearance refused to be contained. Most likely due to the butterflies flittering around excitedly in my belly. "I'll have more to say. I have a lot to say about a lot of things."

"Beau Brooks!" We glanced in the direction of the stern voice. A pretty young woman called from the front porch. I assumed her to be Lauren by the large baby bump. She had her long dark hair piled on top of her head. The sleeves of her shirt were rolled haphazardly to her elbows.

I left the car as her hands went to her hips. Scott came from around the side of the house, which I assumed was from the backyard. The guilt in his expression couldn't be good as he scurried forward. Bad, in fact. The butterflies abandoned me in an instant. I stayed between the car and its door, ready to make a fast getaway if this played out like I thought.

Beau remained clueless about what he was seeing. At least he didn't look like a scared deer caught in headlights…yet.

"How're you already so pregnant?" Beau teased; his smile real. He'd become lighter in the few seconds since she'd called him out. Happy to see her. Well, that was about to change.

"Don't even get me started." She started for Beau with no shoes on. Her entire focus was Beau, heading straight toward him. "You have a life alterin' secret and you never tell any of us? We all thought somethin' awful happened to you when you were away. You just stopped bein' our friend. Seriously, Beau? I hurt for you."

She came to an abrupt stop, the hands at her hips turned to fists, her foot stomping as if to drive her frustration and annoyance into the ground. Beau's warm smile faded, along with his happy mood. The color drained from his face as Scott came to her side like a protective papa bear. I wished to shield Beau in the same way but had to wait for my next cue.

"She wasn't supposed to say anything," Scott said with the same care one would use to defuse a ticking bomb. "What the hell, Lauren? You just promised me that you'd keep your mouth shut."

"I'm done with secrets," she said angrily. "We all watched his father abuse the hell out of him. He was blank inside and you told us he was just stuck up." The back of her hand whacked Scott's belly.

"Lauren!" Scott dropped his head and his shoulders at the same time. "Beau. I only started the rumor because I figured out what was goin' on in the middle of tenth grade. Everybody was talkin' about you all the time. I didn't like it, so I said you were stuck up now. What I shouldn't have done was tell big mouth over here."

"You promised you'd keep it a secret," Beau replied lamely.

The ground I'd begun to make crumbled away like sand in a windstorm. I felt him retreating into himself again. Dammit.

"She won't say anything to anyone else. She knows it's your secret to tell, not hers. It's the baby brain and seein' you again. You know," Scott argued and twirled a finger outside of one ear, making excuses for her.

"Shut up, Scott! I'm not crazy." She actually yelled those words, my brows lifting in surprise. I'd never heard that shrill tone in my life. "I told Katie because she's my best friend and he kissed her."

As quickly as my brows lifted, they dropped. That bit of information was news to me and landed like a ton of bricks. It wasn't Scott I should be jealous of, it was Katie?

Without looking my way, Beau lifted a hand, asking for my silence I assumed. Who knew since, apparently, I knew very little about Beau in the first place. Plot-fucking-twist again.

"So everybody knows now?" Beau looked down at his feet. His shame cascading off him. The muscles in his shoulders tensed then rolled. I braced myself for an eruption, expecting his inner lion to be freed for such a betrayal. I placed one foot back in the car, prepared to dive back in and drive him wherever he wanted to go. I would always be his escape route if I could.

I waited.

Then waited longer.

Lauren went to him, fearless and unafraid. She was a confident little thing, and from her short height, she easily caught Beau's downward stare. Her palm rested on his forearm. "We would have had your back. You were one of my best friends. Like family to me. I've missed you. Katie missed you. She won't tell, I promise. We both hurt that you shouldered all this alone."

The touch evolved into a handhold. His chin lifted a small degree as he stared her straight in the eyes. The move made me proud of my guy. He shouldn't be ashamed of anything. "It was always about my father. Not any of you. He broke me down."

"Hmm," she said, strong enough to hold his direct stare which made me proud of her even though we hadn't officially met. "He hurt you."

"Yeah."

I liked Lauren more and more as she took his other hand, holding it tight.

"He made me into a coward. I was ashamed. He had such a grip on me I couldn't have friends. Nobody would understand what was happenin' in my house."

"You're not a coward. Not ever. Only doin' what had to be done to get by." She finally turned my way. "Who's this?"

Beau's tear-filled expression landed on me. It was a challenge to stay on my feet with everything I read there. Relief, love, acceptance, and appreciation were all there. His shoulders released their tight hold, relaxing. My extraordinary guy sent a wave of tingles rippling over me, sharing the freeing beauty of his coming out.

"That's Dash. I met him in Sea Springs."