Page 13 of Except You
“You say that like you’re a hundred times older than me,” Beau says as he gets out of the car and walks toward the door leading into the house. He doesn’t even wait for me to lead the way, just barges in. Kind of like he did in my life. I wasn’t expecting him, and yet here he is. No escaping now.
“Oh, you have a great eye for color schemes,” he says, turning on the light in the kitchen and taking in the white cabinets, the gray stone counter, and the vinyl plank flooring. “Like this is gorgeous. Did you remodel it on your own?”
“Yeah. It was a shithole when I first moved in, which is why I could afford this place, and I did most of the renovations myself.”
Beau sighs and presses his hand to his chest. “And you’re sure you’re straight, right?”
I chuckle and nod, walking to the fridge and handing him a bottle of water. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“It’s fine. You’re not my type anyways.”
For some reason, that comment hurts my feelings. How am I not his type? I mean, I know I’m good-looking. People tell me all the time. Hell, a woman stopped me the other day and just stared at me before sputtering out that she liked my blue eyes.
Maybe Beau likes smaller guys, ones with fewer muscles and less hair.
Maybe he likes them bald.
“Oh god, Max, don’t look so sad. I just meant, I don’t do straight guys like you. Trust me. I’ve had my heart broken one too many times, hoping someone would turn just for me. That doesn’t happen in real life. That, my friend, is something only for fairy tales.” He opens the bottle of water and takes a sip. “Also, you’re just a little too much for me. You’re just too…big.”
My brow furrows because I don’t know what he means. Does he think my muscles are too thick? My thighs? Or maybe it’s my nose.
“Ego bruised, huh? Don’t worry, straight man. I have pretty high standards. It’s very hard to meet them.”
Don’t like that comment either. It means I don’t meet some kind of quota or list he has. Not that I want to. That’s not important. But still, a little flattery never hurt anyone.
“You’re not my type either,” I grumble, and Beau winks at me.
“Oh, I know.”
My lips twitch at his response as he moves around my place, looking in all the cabinets and being a nosy fucker, but doing it so endearingly. I can’t even be mad about it.
“Oh, you have the best cookware. I’m so jealous.”
“I love those pans. Great colors. Didn’t expect you to have those, to be honest. Kind of expected you to have like a manly grill or something.”
“Those pillows are so soft. I’m gonna have to rub my face on them later. Mark my territory.”
“Look at that bed. It’s huge.”
He flops down on my king-size bed and spreads his arms and legs wide, almost like he’s making a snow angel.
“God, this is divine. Can we hang out in here? This has to be like a super-expensive mattress. Mine definitely doesn’t feel this great.”
“Yeah, it was an investment,” I say, moving toward him, trying not to notice the bulge in his jeans or the way his belly button ring peeks out from beneath his shirt.
“So can we? Can we hang out in here and watch a movie? Or does that make you uncomfortable?”
I wrench my gaze from his exposed skin and swallow, feeling my cheeks heat. “No, that’s fine. We can do that.”
“Oh, thank god. My ass could use a nice cushion right now.”
Hell, I think as I envision him bent over, getting one right up his butt. It’s too fucking much. I can’t be thinking about this, especially if we’re going to be lounging in my bed.
“Popcorn?” I wheeze.
“Oh, yes please, and if you have any M&M’s to put in with it, even better.”
“Might have something left over from Halloween.”