That about summed it up.
Now we were halfway to Mabel’s, cars passing by on their way up and down Main Street as we walked to the diner. Shane looked around like he was waiting for a jump scare, his gaze latching onto the church, where a few people were walking inside.
It must have been a Sunday, then.
Fuck.We’d been in and out of bed for two weeks?
No fucking way.
It didn’t feel like two weeks. It felt like a long weekend. A fever dream. A perfectly preserved, slow-dripping stretch of time where the hours bent around the sound of Beau’s voice in my ear, the weight of his body over mine, the heat of his breath against my throat.
There’d been coffee. Showers. Bare feet on cool tile. Laughter. The occasional grocery run, always cut short by a horny detour into an empty aisle or the truck or the back of the auto shop.
But mostly?
We’d fucked.
We’d fucked like it was our full-time job. Like the house might vanish if we stopped touching. Like the only thing keeping the world from spinning off its axis was the way he kissed me. Touched me. Looked at me like I was a miracle.
And the scariest part was: it hadn’t gotten old. Not once. If anything, it was getting worse.
More intense.
More addictive.
I glanced over at him now, his hand brushing against mine as we walked. He looked like himself—messy hair with an old Ashmore County High baseball cap, worn jeans, calloused fingers, that low-slung gait.
And still, my whole body buzzed like I was seeing him for the first time.
Shane, beside me, was not subtle about clocking this. He let out a long, dramatic sigh.
“God,” he said. “You’re disgusting.”
I smirked. “Says the man who showed up unannounced because he was worried I’d been murdered.”
“Iwasworried you’d been murdered. Then I got there and realized you were just dickmatized beyond recognition.”
I opened my mouth to argue—but couldn’t. Not really.
Because yeah. I was.
And I wasn’t even sorry.
Shane’s eyes were still fixed on the church, which proudly displayed a pride flag and a billboard reading “All Are Welcome.” He frowned like he didn’t trust it at all.
“This…this place has to be a cult,” he said. “It’s freaky as hell.”
“You got a problem with the queer community?” Beau asked, completely deadpan.
Shane narrowed his eyes. “Don’t talk like you’re part of the queer community, sir.”
Beau shrugged. “Just testing the waters. You free later?”
I nearly choked on my own spit.
Shane nudged me with his shoulder. “Okay, fine. He’s funny. I get it. You win.”
“I didn’t know we were competing.”
