Page 78 of On the Run
Hopeless Case in Whispering Key
Dear Hopeless,
I’m guessing the guy you want deserves better than that. Maybe he should get it.
Take your own advice for once,
Auntie H.
* * *
Common wisdom saysthat when you find yourself in a hole, it’s important that you stop digging. Since we’ve already established that I am neither common nor wise, you can imagine that I did neither.
“So, um.” I trailed Beale to the bathroom. “About that me-being-on-the-news thing Mason mentioned a minute ago? It’s kind of a funny story—”
Beale turned the shower on and dropped his shorts on the floor. “A story about how you were giving Jayd Rollins head at a bar in New York and got caught by the paparazzi, right before you came to Whispering Key, and then lied to me about it?” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Would we call that funny?”
My stomach lifted up to my throat and then plummeted to somewhere around my knees. “You knew all along?”
“Me? Nah. I’m not that smart. I only found out about two hours ago, give or take a counter fuck.” Beale’s deep voice thrummed with hurt. “Humor was not my first reaction. Or my second.”
He yanked the curtain aside and stepped under the water, so I shucked my clothes, too, and stepped in after him, but he was already rinsing the soap off his body. “It wasn’t funny-funny, obviously, Beale. More like horrifying-funny.”
“I can imagine. Now take that and multiply it by being the guy you treated like an idiot for the past week. Aminor personal issue?” He scrubbed at his hair ruthlessly, and shampoo suds flew everywhere.
“Yes, kind of.” I pressed my lips together. “I hoped it would be.”
“That had nothing whatsoever to do with me?” He stuck his head under the spray.
“It didn’t!” I insisted, soaping myself quickly. “Honestly, Beale, it had nothing to do with this. Withus. I know you’re angry, and I don’t blame you—”
“Oh,thank you, Toby. Thank you for notblamingme—” He stepped out and slung a towel around his waist. “—for being upset that my—fuck, what evenareyou,Trey?My fake soul mate? The guy I’ve been messing around with?—doesn’t trust me at all.”
“Not true!” I shook my head vehemently and tried to grab his arm, but he shook me off and stalked out of the room. I rinsed off quickly, grabbed a towel, and followed him to the bedroom.
“Please listen, Beale,please. That’s not what happened. It was a setup. I wasn’t at that club to hang with Jayd—I’ve spoken maybe five words to the guy in my entire life, and I didn’t have any kind of sexualanythingwith him. In fact, I went to that club with the guy sitting next to Jayd in the picture, and he yanked me into Jayd’s lap so that the paparazzo could take the shot. Jayd was fully clothed.”
“You were half-naked,” he said roughly.
“Yes, because I was dancing at a club,” I repeated, trying to keep my patience. “A gay club called Dive, specifically, where the clientele are not always dressed in suits and ties and sweaters, becausethey are dancing at a club.” I swallowed hard. “And the fact that it was—is—a gay club is exactly why I wasn’t going to tell you the story. By confirming that Jayd was there—”
“I don’t want to hear this right now, Toby. I’m angry. And I thought I got over being angry, back when we were—” He waved a hand at the kitchen.
“Fucking like bunnies?” I supplied.
He yanked a T-shirt out of the closet, not caring that three others fell to the floor. “Yeah. But it turns out I’m not over it at all. I’m… hurt. I opened up to you. I cared about you. And…” He licked his lips. “Look, I know this was never a long-term thing in your mind, like you said earlier—”
My mouth opened, but I couldn’t force a single syllable out.
“—but I really thought you cared about me and that we hadsomething. Friendship, or respect, or like… damn, I don’t know.” He wrinkled his nose like he was horrified he’d admitted that. “I feel like a fool.”
The past tense of “I cared about you” was not lost on me… but it was the last word that squeezed my chest so hard I couldn’t draw a deep breath. “You are not a fool,” I whispered. “Fuck, Beale.”
He grabbed a pair of worn-in cargo shorts from the closet, too, and as he yanked them on, I felt that kind of melancholy feeling you get when you wonder if you’ve appreciated a thing enough while you had it.
Jesus. Pining for raggedy cargo shorts would be a new lifetime low for me.
“How long did you honestly think you could keep this a secret?” Beale asked softly. “Or maybe it didn’t matter to you, as long as you were back in New York before I caught on, leavingmeto explain to everyone around here who you really are?”
