seven

BEAU

I'm only half listening, picking at the chipped nail polish on my left hand, as Rey rambles about some drama with an ex, when my phone rings. Slipping it out of my pocket, I smile like an idiot as my favorite picture of Emma fills my screen.

I'd snapped it one early morning back when we were together - I couldn't sleep but couldn't make myself wake her, looking so innocent and peaceful as she snored softly. She wasn't wearing any makeup and my camera picked up every beautiful freckle on her face. She was always pestering me about changing it. Too bad, I always said, my phone, my rules. It's not like I hadn't noticed the picture she had of me looking stuffy in dress pants and an expensive button up as her contact photo.

Putting one finger up to tell Rey to hold on, I ignore her frown and walk towards the master bedroom, holding the phone to my ear after only one ring. If Jace could see me now, he'd tell me that I'm whipped, I think to myself, glad yet again that I have nothing to do with the singer anymore.

"This better be a call to tell me you're on your way over," I answer, peering over my shoulder and deciding how I'll tell Rey to leave. It was easier when I didn't think I had a shot with Emma - now that I do, I want - no, need - to spend all the time I can with her before Rey and I leave for the tour. And I don't care to share her attention with anyone else while I have her, either.

Emma giggles and I bask in the sound, proud and still in disbelief that I can be the cause of such a wonderful noise. Not for the first time, I wonder what I did to deserve someone so pure.

"I told you," Emma sighs deeply. "I couldn't find a way out of this retreat for the employees,"

"Oh, right." I groan, holding back an eye roll. The old Beau would say "Fuck the retreat," or something similar, insisting she show up at my door and let me show her how much more fun we could be having here, instead. Dr. Dex ever present in my mind, I add, "Well, that should be fun, right? Getting to know your co-workers more?"

"Uh," Emma hesitates on the line and my brows furrow as I immediately pick up on her discomfort. "I guess so,"

I wait for her to elaborate. When she doesn't, I venture, "Unless you think it won't be fun? In that case, I'm all for you ditching and seeing me instead."

Quickly, her voice raises an octave and I'm sure it's only for my benefit. "No, it'll be okay, you're right. I should make the most of it,"

"There you go," I try to sound cheerful, pissed that she's feeling down and I can't do anything to help her. "I'm here if you need to call or anything,"

"Thanks, Beau." Her reply is quick. "But I know you're busy getting ready for the tour, I don't want to bother you."

Ouch. That stings. Shame spreads through me as I mentally curse myself. What is even more frustrating than seeing her upset, is the fact that I used to be the one she'd talk to when she was, and now I'm finally ready to be the person willing to listen, to be there for her, and she doesn't feel like she can let me in.

And the worst part is that there's no one to blame but myself and my own stupid mistakes.

"You're never a bother." I hope she hears how much I mean that.

"Thanks," Her voice sounds shy and I'd bet she's blushing. The thought of her all flushed makes my crotch twitch. "Alright, well, I'm pulling into the place now, I just wanted to say hi."

Before I can respond, I hear a voice shouting her name in the background. A guys voice. "Emma, you made it!"

I'm about to ask who it is, when I hear her own voice perk up in response.

"Hey, Adam! I'll be in there in a minute," She sounds happy to see him, I notice.

Trying not be a selfish asshole, I tell her, "He sounds nice. Maybe this won't be so bad after all,"

"Adam is nice," She agrees quickly. "Okay, let's get this over with. I'll talk to you later?" I hear shuffling on the other end and figure she must be getting her things out of her car.

"Of course," I mutter, torn between being glad she has a friend, and pissed that it's a guy. Hearing Rey on the phone in the other room, I'm reminded what a fucking hypocrite I am. "Have fun, okay?"

Everything in me wants to tell her I love her before we hang up, like I should have told her so many times before. How do you have a girl like that and never tell her how you truly feel? You'd have to be a real jack ass.

Instead, all that comes out is a lame "See ya later," and we hang up.

Returning to the living room, I find Rey mindlessly flipping through the channels on my TV. Without looking up, she mutters, "I ordered some pizza, by the way."

"Thanks," I mumble, sinking into the other end of the couch and feeling like a total chump. I feel Rey's large eyes on my face but choose to ignore her, watching whatever channel she's landed on without really paying attention. My mind is on Emma, gone away for the weekend with some nice guy, Adam.

Would she ever describe me as nice?

"You okay?" Rey kicks my leg with her black boot, similar to my own pair, and I shoot her a glare.

I can't help the sarcasm that seeps through my words. "Never better,"

She inches closer to me on the leather couch and I stiffen, sending her a cautious glance out of the corner of my eye.

Sending me one of her gap-toothed smiles, she shrugs. "You know, I'm no Dexter Williams, but I'm a pretty good listener. If you ever, you know," she picks at the frayed strands of her Rolling Stones t-shirt. "If you ever need a friend." Her big, dark eyes stare at me innocently. I squint at her skeptically, and she chuckles. "I've heard friends do that, sometimes."

I'm still considering her offer when my doorbell rings. "I'll get that," she excuses herself and I watch as she walks away, so tiny in the cathedral ceiling living room. Short and curvy, Rey is definitely attractive. Most guys, and definitely a certain lead singer I know, would kill to be going on tour with her - the opportunities for endless tour sex ripe on their minds.

But I've spent plenty of time hooking up with random girls since Emma, and no matter who it was with or where I was, when I closed my eyes, all I could see was that face and those freckles.

Rey returns, a large cardboard box in her hands, accompanied by the heavy smell of pizza grease, and my stomach growls. Quietly, she places the box on the coffee table and sits down on the floor on the other side. Grateful for the distance, I let out a deep sigh and rub my hand over my eyes.

Chewing slowly, Rey mumbles behind her hand, "Hey, I don't mean to be a pain or anything. You don't have to talk to me like that. I just wanted you to know that I'm here for you."

Barely hearing her words, I tilt my head to look at her. "Do you think I'm a nice guy?"

"What?" Rey chuckles before realizing that I'm serious. Her face softens into a sympathetic smile and it almost makes me nauseous. When did I turn into this guy, begging for affirmations from women? "Beau, you're a great guy, of course."

I shake my head and roll my eyes knowingly. "That's not what I asked. Am I nice?"

Placing her pizza back in the box, Rey raises her dark brows at me. "What's this about?" Not wanting to tell her, I glare at the skull on my forearm to avoid her gaze. "Look, Beau," She waits until I look up to continue speaking. "I don't think many girls grow up dreaming of marrying just a 'nice' guy, ya know?"

I stare at her blankly. Isn't that exactly what girls want?

"I mean," Rey continues, "You're successful, talented, funny. Sure you can be moody, but you're always up for a good time. You're smart, loyal to your friends, and... and good looking," Her voice trails off and once again, I squirm under the intensity of her stare.

"Um," I run a hand over my hair, feeling the prickle of the shaved sides, and wonder where that loyalty was when I betrayed Emma - something I know she never would've done to me. "Thanks,"

Rey rolls her eyes back at me. "Don't get a big head. I'm just saying, you might be rough around the edges, but you're still a catch."

She shrugs and goes back to eating happily. I grab a piece, heavy with pepperoni and mini meatballs, and chew mechanically, barely tasting my food.

Rey didn't know me before - if she had, would she still think those things about me? And even if she did... all those compliments and not one about me being a nice person. What does that say about me?

I take a large gulp of my water, feeling the familiar ache for something stronger, and wonder why the idea bothers me so much, when being nice never has before.

"Is this about Em-" Rey begins but I cut her off with a scowl.

"No. I was just thinking," It feels like a lie as soon as I say the words but I ignore it, hoping she does, too.

"Okay, well, if you're done thinking, why don't you find us something good to watch until Rocco gets here?" Rey smirks, wiping her hands on a paper towel.

"You're demanding, aren't you?" I groan sarcastically. "Maybe I should re-think this tour."

"Fuck you," Rey scoffs, tossing her dirty napkin at my face.

A laugh escapes my lips as I throw the napkin back into her lap and grab the remote, flipping to a movie channel. I almost tell her that she would be so lucky, but I catch myself, mind instantly flashing an image of Emma's face.

I may not be nice per say, but I know she didn't like when I flirted with other girls. And after seeing how shitty it felt when I even heard Adam call her name, I'm starting to understand why.

Focusing on the dumb cartoon on the screen, I turn the volume up loudly so Rey won't be tempted to start another conversation until Rocco gets here. Checking for messages one last time, I put my phone on the table beside me, resisting the urge to text Emma myself, just to check in. She sounded so bleak pulling up to the retreat.

Still, I hope she's having an awfully nice time.