I can tell he’s joking because his pout is exaggerated. And even that silly expression doesn’t make him any less handsome. With his dark hair and chiseled features, Beau’s sexy as hell. We met at a party last spring where, within seconds, he sucked me in with his dimpled grin and easy-going charm. I think we fell into bed with each other about ten minutes after that, and he’s one of the rare guys I allowed myself to see more than once.
Except now we’re standing face to face, and he’s doing nothing for me. No tingles. No heat. No I want to hit that again. As gorgeous as Beau is, he’s not the one I want to be naked with these days.
That honor falls to John Tucker. AKA the sweetest, hottest, most patient guy on the planet. AKA the guy who asked me out via text this morning and who I still haven’t texted back.
“Seriously, baby, what did I do to deserve such punishment?” He clutches his heart with mock pain, and the scowly, fumy groupies get scowlier and fumier.
“Uh-huh. I’m sure your bed’s been miserably empty since I left it. I bet you’re living the sad, lonely life of a monk.”
“Not quite.” He winks. “But you could at least try to act like you miss boning down with all this—” He sweeps a hand in front of him from head to toe.
And yeah, “all this” is mighty appealing. I’m talking big chest, sculpted arms, long legs, and muscles to spare.
But Tucker has all those things too.
“I see your ego is still as massive as ever,” I say cheerfully.
Beau nods fervently. “It is. Not as big as my dick, of course—”
“Of course.”
“But I’m not complaining.”
“Other than your big dick and ego, how’s life? How’s Joanna?” I’d met Beau’s older sister Joanna at one of his parties, and watching the two of them bicker had been highly entertaining.
“She’s great. Still doing that show on Broadway and killing it.” He sighs. “She asks about you all the time.”
“She does?”
“Oh yeah. She thinks I’m an idiot for not making you my girlfriend.”
“Making me?” I echo dryly.
“I tried to tell her that I’m too much man for you, but Jo insists that you’re too much woman for me. She’s wrong, obviously.”
My lips twitch in humor. “Obviously. What else? How’s the season going?”
His laidback expression falters slightly. “Team’s lost two games already this season.”
Sympathy tugs at my chest. I know how important football is to him. “I’m sure you can still turn things around,” I assure him, though I have no idea if that’s even true.
Apparently it’s not. “Naah, we’re fucked,” he says glumly. “Two losses pretty much guarantees we won’t make the playoffs.”
Ah, crap. And it’s his last year at Briar too. “Hey, but at least you led the team to one championship during your time here,” I remind him. “That counts for something, right?”
“Sure.” But he doesn’t sound convinced of that. He clears his throat and offers a smile that lacks the luster from before. “Anyway, I’m glad I ran into you. I promised not to say anything about this, but I figured it’s cool to bring it up to you since you’re the other party.”
I wrinkle my forehead. “The other party of what?”
He grins broadly, and this time it does reach his eyes. “Tuck’s epic pursuit of you.”
Oh God.
“What are you talking about?” I squeak.
“Ha. Don’t play dumb, baby. It’s been like a week since he tracked me down at the gym, and I know the guy—no way did he go a week without tracking you down.”
Anxiety pricks my belly. Beau and I might have ended things on fantastic terms, but that doesn’t mean I feel comfortable discussing other guys with him.
As if he senses that, he softens his tone. “It’s all good, S. You don’t have to give me deets if you don’t want to.” He shrugs. “I just wanted to make sure you knew he was a decent guy.”
Wait, what?
“Wait, what?” I say aloud.
Beau laughs. “Tucker,” he clarifies, as if I don’t know who we’re talking about. “I know you have this vendetta against hockey players—”
“I do not!” I protest.
“You totally fucking do!” He’s laughing harder now. “Do you want me to list all the times I had to sit there and listen to you trash Di Laurentis? Actually, I wouldn’t even be able to list them. That’s how often you did it.”
“There may have been a couple of occasions,” I concede with a grumble.
“A couple, a hundred, same diff, right? But yeah, I’m not even gonna try to defend Dean—who’s fucking awesome, by the way. I know you won’t change your mind about him. But Tucker is legit cool. He’s one of the nicest dudes I’ve ever met.”
Same, I think wryly. Out loud I ask, “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I know you.” He reaches out and tweaks a strand of my hair. Behind us, an outraged gasp sounds from the groupies. “You’ve probably already thought of a million reasons not to give Tuck a shot. And if one of those reasons is that you’re really not into him, then great, don’t go out with him then. But if you are into him, don’t let this big brain of yours—” He gently taps my head “—talk you out of it, ’kay?”
“You should probably stop touching me. Your fans are getting upset.”
He snorts. “You really think me touching you is gonna stop one or two or all of them from sucking my dick tonight?”