Page 75 of Except You
“You say that word in my house one more time, and I’ll never speak to you again,” I hiss, and Matt’s eyes widen.
“Jesus. You too?” he asks, shaking his head. “These people have really gotten into your head.”
Beau hits him with another spray of water, and Matt swivels his gaze back to Beau.
“Listen, Matthew,” Beau begins with a frown. “What you’re saying is not nice. Grow the hell up and be kind moving forward, or else you’re gonna lose Max, just like you all lost Magnus.”
Matt’s cheeks flush, and he turns to look at me.
“Is this guy for real? You’d pick him over me?” he asks, sounding hurt.
I don’t even hesitate. “Yes. I would. Every fucking day.”
He scoffs and then brushes his hair back again. His eyes move across my face and he looks almost confused at what he sees. I would be too. This is the new me, Matt. This isn’t who you grew up with. Take a long hard look.
“Good to know. Fuck you, Max. Don’t come around me anymore. You can have your boyfriend, and stay the fuck out of my life.”
And then he turns and strides from the house, slamming the door behind him. I stare at the wet floor, Doggo lapping at the puddles, and then without thinking, I move toward Beau. I need him. Need to make sure he’s okay.
“Are you alright?” I ask, reaching up to touch his face.
He swallows and nods, his eyes a little watery.
A slight tremble moves through him. “Yeah, I just… I’ve never seen a fight like that, Max. I didn’t know what to do. I was so scared.”
I swallow, the guilt rising up within me. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I was just so angry at him. And the things he said. He wouldn’t even shake your hand, Bow-tie. Why would he be like that?”
Beau leans into my touch, and his lips kiss my palm.
“I don’t care about that, Max. I’m used to it. This isn’t the first time I’ve come across people like that.”
The thought makes me start to shake, the adrenaline coming back in a rush.
“I don’t like that,” I say, my voice raspy and broken. “I would burn the world down for you, Beau. They should shake your fucking hand. Treat you with goddamn respect.”
His eyelids droop, and his breath hitches. “No world-burning. No more. You’re hurt enough as it is. We need to ice that eye.”
“I don’t care about my damn eye,” I murmur, my gaze moving down to his lips. The bottom one is pulled between his teeth as he stares at me.
And then I do something I’ve wanted to do since the first day I met him. I didn’t realize it then, but I know it now. I know it. I fucking know.
My head lowers to his, and my lips brush against his mouth. From that brief contact, I can tell that he tastes like lavender, like fresh air, like home.
Beau gasps when I pull away, my entire body thrumming from just being close to him.
“Max,” he whispers, and before he can protest, I do it again, slanting my mouth over his and kissing those soft, pink lips.
Fuck. Fuck! Why didn’t I do this sooner?
My hands slide into his hair, and I hold him against me as I slowly peck and nibble at his lips, tasting him, testing this out, seeing if I can tell a difference between a man and woman. And I honestly can’t. If anything, Beau is better. Beau has always been better.
A soft whimper escapes him, and I lean into him further. Beau seems to be letting me take the lead, not pushing for more, so I take the next step. I tentatively press my tongue into his mouth, and he groans softly around it.
That sound spurs me on and my kisses grow more desperate, more assured. Our breath mingles, our hands grasp at one another as we taste each other’s mouths, tongues tangling, moans leaving Beau’s throat and searing my lungs.
I want him to groan for me.
I want him to scream for me.