“I don’t need you,” I say.
He smirks. It seems to say, You’re here, aren’t you?
Overconfident bastard.
He’s so confident he doesn’t even acknowledge my comment, other than his smirk. He just lets my words linger out there in the open. And the longer they hang there, the more ridiculous they seem.
Truthfully, maybe I just wanted to snap back and distance myself from my feelings. That Beau would prioritize me over his hookups makes my heart speed up a little. My silly, hopeful heart that somehow wants to matter to these brothers more than it should.
Beau is a playboy. That’s what he is. To want something else from him is not just totally hopeless, it’s asinine.
Even to want him romantically at all puts my heart in great danger. He enjoys his passing fancies, his flavors of the month.
