Hard Beat

“Did you go out by yourself to take pictures?”

“Not since the last time you told me not to,” she lies as she makes a show of looking at her watch, “which was two minutes ago.”

Her sarcasm infuriates me even though a part of me admires her all at the same time. It’s a fucked-up mix, and that I respect her for standing her ground makes me even more pissed. The goddamn woman is going to be the death of me. “You’re a horrible liar.”

She just lifts her eyebrows in a “yeah, so what” gesture that causes me to grit my teeth.

“And I believe you promised me you weren’t going to go out by yourself anymore, let alone at night, and yet the time stamp on these pictures says you did just that.” I wait for a reaction, wait for her to disagree with me, offer an explanation, but she doesn’t. She just stands there and ever so slowly nods her head in agreement with my statement. “What the fuck are you doing, Beaux? Trying to get yourself killed?” I can’t contain my frustration anymore. I push up out of the chair, shove my hands through my hair in a useless gesture, and pace the floor in front of her to abate some of the restless energy that feels like it’s eating me alive.

“Tanner… you’re overreacting.”

“Don’t Tanner me, and don’t you dare make light of this! It’s not like you’re out on some goddamn Sunday stroll.” I stop walking and square my shoulders to her with my face inches from hers. And she just continues to hold my stare but doesn’t give me an inkling of what she’s feeling on the inside and damn it to hell I want to know. “This isn’t some city back home, rookie, wherever the fuck you’re from that you aren’t telling me about. Not by a long fucking shot. Do you have any clue what…” I stop midsentence as I realize what I just said to her. As everything comes clear over why I’m so pissed at her disappearing into the night by herself in this dangerous city. That it’s not just her going out by herself, no, but rather having these feelings like I did from when Stella disappeared churned up in addition to everything Beaux’s still keeping from me after all of this time we’ve spent together.

How I still feel like I know so little about her since she continually changes the subject any and every time we talk about home.

My anger collides with my insecurity and makes me realize just why I’m so upset. No one likes to be made to feel like a fool, and right now it’s exactly how I feel. My life, my past, my everything, has been completely opened to her, and while I don’t expect her to give me a blow-by-blow of her past, shouldn’t she at least offer more than the generalities that I do know?

I run a hand down the back of my neck while I stare into those deep green eyes of hers, needing to step the fuck away from her so that I can gather my thoughts and figure out where my heart and head are, because obviously they are a hell of a lot more invested than hers are.

“Just forget it,” I tell her in a voice eerily similar to her emotionless tone.

I walk from the room without another word and head up the stairwell, needing my space to clear my head, take stock, and be by myself. Too much, too damn fast.

I can’t help but laugh, though, the sounds dying in the heat of the day as I shove open the door to the rooftop and make my way to my sanctuary. Stella was so damn right, it’s comical. I sure as hell feel a lot more than just lust for Beaux right now, and even though I refuse to say the L-word that Stella was so damn fond of using, it doesn’t mean my head doesn’t see it lurking on the horizon.

“Fuck!” I bark to no one, knowing it’s going to be hotter than hell up here right now and not caring, because I just need a few moments, some time not to feel so fucking scattered.

First of all there’s Beaux and her lack of emotional investment in this. And the minute the thought crosses my mind, I reject it just as quickly because that’s a total bullshit statement. I know she’s invested in what’s between us. I can see it in her eyes, feel it in her touch. I just wish I knew what the fuck it is that’s keeping her from opening up to me. Whatever it is that’s holding her back is so damn strong, it’s almost tangible.

Maybe I’ll call Rafe and ask him more about her. It’s not the first time the thought’s crossed my mind, but I keep telling myself I need to wait her out, let her tell me in her own time. The question is, how much longer do I wait? At what point will I have to step back to prevent myself from getting hurt?

Except I have the sinking feeling I’m pretty much all in at this point, or else I wouldn’t have just reacted like I did.

I scrub my hands over my face. This emotional overload like I’m a damn teenager can stop anytime now.

Fuck. I close my eyes and lean my head against the wall behind me as I take refuge in the tiny bit of shade from the wall the mattress is pushed up against. I haven’t been this worked up in a long time, and I feel stupid yet validated in my feelings.

“Tanner?”

“Go away, Beaux.”

“We need to talk.”

My mind flashes back to the last time I was up here with Stella and the talk we had that led to the kiss.

“No, we don’t. You’re stubborn, clearly going to do whatever you want without any worry for your own safety, and I just… I’ve already lost one person I cared about because of that lack of caution, and I can’t go through that again. Simple as that.”

Silence settles around us as if she really heard what I said and recognized the sincerity in my tone. “Is that what this is all about?” She lowers herself beside me on the mattress, yet I refuse to glance over at her.