“Most boys don’t think about babies at that age, do they?” I ask, confused why Wyatt would have been even thinking about children, let alone planning them at that age.
Channing shrugs one shoulder. “Probably not, but Wyatt wasn’t most boys, and he’s certainly not most men,” she says, almost defensively.
I don’t know all of his story. Sure, like Ford, I’ve seen him around town over the years, but I’ve always been a shy nerdy wallflower, the only things I know about any of them are hearsay from Laurie, which isn’t much.
“Here,” Exeter says, shoving a piece of cake against my chest. “If you people don’t eat this, then I’m going to eat it all.”
“Do you have something you want to tell us?” Channing asks, a smile playing on her lips.
I watch, as if it’s in slow motion as Exeter slowly turns to her, then her lips part slightly before she snaps them back closed.
“Nope,” she states.
Channing hums, then laughs softly. “I’m here, always.”
Exeter nods her head before she turns around and walks back to the cake. I watch her for a moment, cutting and plating the cake before she begins serving them again. I bite the corner of my lip, unable to take my gaze from Beaumont as she hands him his plate.
Slowly, as if sensing my eyes on him, he lifts his own and his gaze meets mine. “You love him,” Channing whispers.
“Are you clairvoyant?” I ask.
She giggles. “No, I just know that Exeter looks at Wyatt the way you’re looking at Beaumont and if I had to guess, I look at Rylan the same way.”
Breaking my staring contest with Beaumont, I turn to Channing. “It’s not real though, not between us. Not like it is with you guys,” I admit for the first time aloud.
“Why do you say that?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.
I shrug one shoulder. “It just can’t be.”
“Because he’s famous or because you’re still hurt by what he did so long ago?”
Letting out an exhale, I stab my cake with my fork and bring a big bite to my mouth. Shoving it inside, I buy myself a couple of moments, all the while Channing just watches me. Waiting.
“Both,” I admit. “I’m not the kind of woman that a man like him dates seriously. I’ve seen the wives of stars, and that is not me. I’m meek and shy, a loner. I spend my weekends taking care of my grandfather, and not just because he needs the help, but mostly because I don’t have anything else to do.”
Channing blinks, then I watch as her lips turn up into a wide smile before she starts to laugh. It’s a little too loud and I glance over my shoulder to see that Beaumont is staring in our direction. Turning back to her, I frown.
“What’s so funny?” I snap, harsher than I intend.
She doesn’t even act fazed by my tone. “I think it’s kind of comical that you don’t see what a catch you are. That you think you have to be a supermodel for Beaumont to be interested in you. You’re gorgeous and I’m extremely jealous of all you have going on, body-wise.
“Also, Beaumont is one of the most down-to-earth people that I know. Between him and Louis, I forget that they’re even famous. He would never settle down with some glittery Hollywood person. He’s a hometown boy through-and-through, so to me, you guys fit one another extremely well. The thing is, it won’t work unless you realize that. Unless you believe it.”
For someone younger than me, Channing is a hell of a lot smarter than I am. I hold my breath when she reaches out, wrapping her hand around my arm and gives me a gentle squeeze.
“Trust me when I tell you that, I’ve been with a man who always thought he could do better than me. I’ve been a dirty little secret. I’ve been used and abused, and Beaumont would never do any of those things. If he’s with you, it’s because he likes you. Not for any other reason. These guys, they just aren’t built that way.” She shrugs.
Shaking my head, I set my uneaten cake down on the tabletop. “He did once. He spent a year with me only to turn his back and walk away.”
Channing shakes her head. “I didn’t know the Beaumont of ten years ago. I can only attest to the one that I know now.”
She doesn’t say anything else. Rylan and Beaumont suddenly appear and our conversation dies completely. Beaumont slides his hand around my hip and gently tugs me against his side. He doesn’t say anything to me, instead he watches Channing as she curls her baby against her chest.
I didn’t even see her turn to pick him up from his carrier. Rylan reaches for him and she rolls her eyes but smiles as he takes him from her grasp.
“You know I’m only allowed to actually hold him when he’s at work, right?”
“You love it,” Beaumont murmurs.
“I do,” she breathes.
I can see that she’s telling the truth too. Her eyes are focused on Rylan and Reese, and they fill with wetness at the sight of them together. Her words fill my mind, playing on repeat as I watch without really seeing anything.
If he’s with you, it’s because he likes you. Not for any other reason.
I want to believe her. I want to believe every single word that she’s said, but I don’t know if I can. I bite the corner of my lip, wishing everyone would leave and that they would take me with them.
I don’t want to deal with my own feelings, not at all and especially not with Beaumont. I don’t want him to know that I heard him, that I know anything he’s said. I just want everything to disappear.
BEAUMONT
One by one, my friends leave. They all give me handshakes and backslaps, demanding that I keep in touch with them. I know why they want to stay in contact, they’re afraid that I’m going to take a flying leap off of my sobriety wagon. Especially now that Chelle is back in town. I don’t blame them, not at all.
I meant it when I said that I didn’t care about Chelle being back. I don’t and I doubt she gives a shit about me. However, I haven’t laid eyes on her since before she left.
Once I found out she was safe and had been playing me, I stopped searching for her, I didn’t go and confront her. I probably should have, I would have had the closure that I needed, without a doubt.
Instead, I drank my feelings, I worked and focused on myself, my life, and let the memory of what she did to me stay in the forefront of my fucking mind for a goddamn decade, wasting space.
“Ready for bed, darlin’ girl?” I ask as soon as Louis waves goodbye and closes the door behind him.
Hutton’s back stiffens. She’s facing the dining room table where there are still a few plates littering the table. The maid is coming tomorrow to clean my entire place, again, and lock it up. I don’t give a fuck about a few dirty paper plates, not when this is my last night here.
“I’m just going to clean up,” she murmurs.
I chuckle, walking toward her as quickly as I can without running. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I tug her back against my chest. She gasps as my mouth touches the side of her neck. Using my tongue, I lick the entire side of her throat, enjoying the moan that escapes when I do.
“Leave it,” I growl, nipping her skin.
“Bugs. Smells. Dirty,” she breathes.