Conceal (The Barker Triplets 3)

Her chest rose and fell rapidly and he knew she was as affected by him as he was by her. And yet…he felt her pulling away. The feeling pissed him off more than he thought it would.

“We can’t do this, Beau.”

He grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him. “Then why did you come here last night? I don’t play games, Betty, so don’t go there with me.”

Something flashed in her eyes. Something hot and fierce.

She yanked her head out of his grasp and pushed him back so that she could stand. He really wished she’d stayed seated because her clean, fresh scent rolled over him. The heat from her body rolled over him.

And all of it settled between his legs, right there where his erection strained against his boxers.

Beau felt as if he was losing control of all of his shit and he wasn’t exactly sure how to react. He’d never felt so out of his element before.

“I’m not playing a game. I needed t

o be held. That’s it. That’s all. It won’t happen again.”

“That’s all,” he repeated, getting more pissed off by the second.

“Yes, Beau. That’s all. There is no more, remember? That’s how it has to be.” She pushed past him. “I guess I shouldn’t have come. I—“

“What…Matt Hawkins wasn’t available?”

“Excuse me?” She turned back. a nasty look in her eyes.

“Isn’t he your go to guy? Where was he last night? Out with someone else? What exactly is your relationship with that guy anyway? Is it the whole friends with benefits thing?” Beau couldn’t stop himself. “Or is he just a fuck buddy?” He had no idea where all of this was coming from. “Hell, he stood by while that asshole insulted you at the baseball game. If you mean so much to him, why the fuck didn’t he throw that idiot down?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The dickhead catcher at our last game. He had a hard on for you the entire time and your buddy Matt did nothing.”

“Mick’s an asshole. Matt knows to ignore him.”

For a second Beau’s mind exploded. He saw red. Pain. Anger.

“That’s Mick,” he said roughly.

Betty watched him warily. “How do you know Mick Valenti?”

He didn’t say anything for a few moments—he couldn’t speak if he wanted to—and then he stepped back, shaking his head. “I don’t know him.”

But I’d like to rip his head off. I’d like to beat his face in until he’s unrecognizable and then I’d love to shove him in a cell with ten lonely inmates and let them have at him.

“You’re being weird, Beau. We can’t do this. You don’t get to talk about Matt. You don’t get to judge what he and I share. Matt’s my best friend and I would do anything for him. Anything.” She shuddered. “What is this, Beau? Why the hell are we fighting?”

I think I’m in love with you.

But she moved away before he had a chance to say the words out loud.

“I have to go and since you’re leaving with Tucker, I guess this is goodbye.” She was all business. Cool as a cucumber.

His jaw was clamped so tight that he had to force himself to speak. “I guess it is.”

Her eyes softened a bit and that mouth that was going to haunt him trembled slightly. “This is why we can’t…we just can’t be involved Beau. You and I are a bad idea on a good day.”

She had a way with words, he’d give her that.

He thought of the paparazzi outside. Of the media storm that would descend if he were to ignore her protests. The movie, his baby that he’d slaved over, spent endless nights writing, perfecting, would become an entirely different animal altogether. And Betty’s chance at a new career, one he knew she could nail, would be tarnished.