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“But we know this would work.” Beau points between us. “I know you feel it, too.”
“Of course, we feel it,” I rush. “But you two keep fighting. And you and I,” I confront Beau, “said one night only for a reason. Because I’m a distraction you can’t afford, remember?”
“Fuck!” Beau curses the ceiling. “Will you quit with that word?”
“I can’t,” I confess. “I hate that word, and now I remember why.”
“Why?”
“Because of my dad.”
“I’m not him, Blair.”
“You sure sound like him.”
Colton interrupts us, confused. “Who’s your dad?”
“Duncan Monroe,” Beau answers for me.
He remembers.
Early in college, I was gawked at and gossiped about because my PGA champion father was as infamous for his pecker as he was his putter. He was always seeking holes, so I made jokes about it to hide the pain.
But, of course, Beau saw right through me.
I heard a rumor that he told the entire Bama football team to shut the gossip down. At least, that’s what Reese said Beau did for me, and it worked. After a while, people left me alone about him.
“Duncan Monroe? The PGA champion?” Colton’s shocked. “The man who won four major golf tournaments in one year? He’s your dad?”
“Yeah, that’s the one,” I explain. “ The champion who’s also had four wives, six girlfriends, nine kids… and counting. And all I’ve ever felt like since I was a little girl was a distraction for him: me, my sister, and my mom, his first wife. But funny, when he won his first U.S. Open, he was on wife number two, girlfriend number three, and kid number four. So, it was never about distractions. It was about devotion.”
“Blair,” Beau sighs, his deep blue eyes searching mine. “Baby, I’m sorry. You never told me you felt that way, and I’d never hurt you like that. You’re so much more to me, and you know it.” He turns to Colton. “And so are you.”
Beau forgets he’s naked, and so does Colton.
We forget our kinky games and bets, too.
We just get real and raw.
“Okay then,” I sigh. “So, time-out. If we’re more than distractions, then what are we?”
“And what will we do after this?” Colton jumps in. “Because you two belong together. Any idiot can see it. And you and I,” he grabs Beau’s stare, “have always been together, even when we’re not. But there’s life after this retreat, and if the three of us fuck or… whatever… what will that be? What will we be?”
The need in the room is heavy. Dripping with passion. Dripping with worry. I can see their bare chests heaving with the question, and they match mine. Because this isn’t college where you can fail and get a retake.
This is our lives.
This is everything on the line.
“Alright.” Beau nods. He thrives under pressure. “Time out. We’ll think about it today.”
But still, Beau plays dirty.
And I swear he inspires Colton to do the same.
They leave their swim trunks on the floor and tempt me, strutting around naked with their cut asses and shredded bodies and dicks that remind me of inflatable tube men outside a carwash. The second they fall limp, they see me or each other and surge back hard, waving for attention.
And I’m so royally screwed because I want to be royally screwed by them.
