Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 107673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
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.