Beau storms over to where Wyatt is standing. The confident bastard doesn’t once look back at me to make sure I listened to him. That’s his fault. He should have known I wasn’t going to stay put.
“Something you want to say, Wyatt?” Beau asks.
I come to stand beside him, and he sighs, long-suffering, when he sees me. But he doesn’t call me out, thank the Gods. Maybe because we are in front of Wyatt.
“No,” Wyatt says. “Though I do find this whole thing rather comical.” He motions between Beau and me.
“There is no thing,” Beau says.
“Sure.”
“He means it, Wyatt,” I say.
“Stay out of this, w***e,” Wyatt snaps.
Beau starts to growl. “Watch your words.”
Wyatt glares at Beau. “No thing, huh? Then why are you so pissed?”
“Because I hate that f*****g word, and what you are trying to imply w
