Page 118 of Except You

“When do we get to meet him? Face to face,” she clarifies, and Beau shakes his head.

“Never, if you act like this. I’ll never bring him back home if you act like a fool.”

“Oh, shut up, you boob. I want to meet him. I just couldn’t make it out last time. You better bring him back, or I will show up at your doorstep and embarrass you.”

Beau reluctantly tells her that we will come up and see them soon before hanging up shortly after, only to get a call from his parents.

We answer together, and I hear his mom and dad shuffling on the other end of the line, clearly excited.

“You moved in!” his mom says, and then his dad swears in the background.

“When is the wedding?” she asks, and I hear his dad grumble a response, chastising her for putting pressure on us.

“Soon,” I say. “We’ll let you know when we have a date.”

Beau gapes at me and then swats at my chest, making me reel back with a laugh.

“I’ll call you back, you guys,” he says as he ends the call and tosses his phone to the side. He pounces on me then, straddling me and trying to get my arms above my head. He only manages because I let him.

His face is just above mine. His hair falls over his face as he glowers down at me. I can’t help but grin back up at him.

“You cannot go making wedding plans.”

“Why not?” I ask, shifting my hips slightly beneath him. My half-hard cock brushes against his ass, and I bite my lip to keep the groan at bay.

“Because we just became boyfriends. I just moved in. We are not getting married.”

“Yet.”

He rolls his eyes and grinds on my dick, making my nostrils flare and my fingers flex in his grip.

“We are not getting married yet. Do not give them hope.”

“But it’s gonna happen, Bow-tie. So why not soon? We should just go to Vegas and tie the knot.”

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs and then leans down and kisses me, a dirty, filthy kiss that has my brain reeling. “You, Max Morris, are ridiculous.”

“You think you’ll take my last name?” I ask as I arch my hips up. “Beau Morris.”

His cheeks darken and he wets his lips. “We will discuss it. Just because I’m marrying you doesn’t mean I’m automatically taking your name. Maybe you should take mine.”

I ponder that for a minute. “Max Middlebrooks.”

“Has a nice ring to it.”

“Yeah, it does,” I say and then flex my hands and pull away from his grip easily. I flip us over and straddle him.

“Max and Beau Middlebrooks.”

He grins up at me, his eyes slightly wet.

“I’m not marrying you,” he says with a giggle, and I press my body against his, feeling the rapid way his heart is beating against my chest.

“Yet,” I say. “Yet.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” I say, my leg bouncing nervously in the car as Beau drives me toward Magnus’s house. It’s down a bumpy dirt road in the high desert and the rough ride is only making me sicker.

Not to mention, my anxiety is off the charts. I barely slept the past couple nights, despite Beau trying to distract me with his mouth and ass.