Conceal (The Barker Triplets 3)

“Oh, you’re not going there—“

But he was. “I think you’re all sexed up for Beau Simon.”

Betty whirled around. “Okay, first off, why does everyone insist on calling him, Beau Simon like it’s one word. His name is Beau. We don’t need the Simon every damn time you mention him.”

“Huh.”

“Again, with the huh! Why don’t you just say what’s on your mind, Matt?”

“Okay,” he said with a shrug. “I saw the way he looked at you last night. He’s hot for you and I don’t even know if he realizes it. Shit, I thought he was going to throw his fist at me when we walked by him. And while we’re on the topic of last night…you shoved your tongue down my throat in front of everyone, but I know it was for him. I saw the way you stared at him when you thought no one was looking. There’s something going on between you two. I don’t know what it is exactly, but I can tell you that it’s not going to end well unless you deal with it.”

Her toe tapped along the wooden floors, the bottom of her cleat rapping like a drummer. “Deal with it,” she repeated.

Matt nodded. “Deal with it.”

“And what does that mean exactly?”

“I don’t know.” Matt threw his hands in the air. “Maybe you should have sex with him.”

“What?” Her horrified shriek didn’t make Matt so much as blink, but it sure as hell made Betty wince. “You can’t be serious.”

“Yeah,” Matt said. “I am. Maybe you’re going at this all wrong. When is the last time you had sex with someone and you actually wanted to?”

“I…” she stumbled over herself. “There was that guy…you know at the Christmas thing…”

“You’re full of shit.” Matt’s eyes and voice softened. “There was no guy. There’s never been a guy. This is me you’re talking to Betty. Me.”

When she said nothing, he prompted her. “Aren’t you sick and tired of the disconnect? Of using sex to control men so they don’t control you? You’ve wasted so much time and energy making sure you don’t get hurt that you forgot to live.”

Pain and anger flushed Betty’s cheeks. Who the hell did Matt think he was talking to?

Jesus. H. Christ.

“The reason you were so hurt before is because that night with Beau meant something to you. It wasn’t just about him screwing up your chance to be in a movie. Not really. You let Beau Simon in,” he pounded his chest, hard. “And he hurt you. It hurt because it mattered.”

“You’ve lost your mind.”

“No, I haven’t. I think I’m seeing things real clear this morning and since that’s pretty much a fucking miracle, let’s learn something from it.”

Betty wanted to punch Matt in the throat. He wasn’t making sense.

“So,” she sputtered. “I should just bang Beau? Because…” She gestured wildly. “Because it went so well the last time?”

“No,” Matt said. “Because it didn’t. Because that man makes you feel and take it from me, it’s fucking nice to see a spark of something in your eyes again. It’s been too long, Bets. The past needs to go away. Once and for all, don’t you think?”

“I can’t believe you’re preaching to me about dealing with my shit when all you’ve ever done is bury yours. You’re a coward, Matt. A drunk, junkie, coward. So maybe when you clean up, maybe when you can get through a day without your buddy, Jack or Mr. Weed, maybe then you can give me advice. But for now, stay the hell out of my business.”

The words jumbled and fell from her mouth before she could stop them and dammit, if tears didn’t poke at the corners of her eyes.

“Jesus, now my makeup’s gonna run…and…” she whimpered. “I’m sorry, Matt. I didn’t mean to say…I’m an idiot. Please don’t be angry.”

Sometimes it felt like Matt was on borrowed time and it scared the shit out of her. His drinking was out of control, his drug use amped too. He refused to get help and she’d learned a long time ago that when pushed, Matt retreated. So, Betty didn’t push. She accepted him…all of him, but lately…lately he’d been worse than ever.

She couldn’t lose him. God, she just couldn’t.

He reached for her and she fell into him, his chin on top of her head, his arms tightening around her in a fierce hug. “I just want one of us to make it.”

She didn’t say anything because the lump in her throat felt as big as a football. She didn’t deserve Matt, but God, she loved him.