“I saw that asshole coming up behind him. I even screamed at Trey to watch his back. But it was too late.” Beau’s chest heaved as a loud sob tore out of him. “The sound of him crashing into the boards—fuck—”
“I know, Beau. I was so scared, I think my heart stopped beating for a few minutes. I couldn’t see a thing that they were doing for him on the ice. And then when I saw them bring out the backboard—I nearly lost my mind.”
He turned to his side and ran his fingers through my hair. “I looked for you in the stands, but I couldn’t see you. Then Jillian pointed toward the tunnel and I knew—” his voice cracked and I felt wetness on my forehead, “I knew you’d be able to handle this. You’d know what to do.”
I shook my head and wiped my fingers on his wet cheeks. “I didn’t do anything. Just held his hand and told him I loved him.”
Beau’s body shattered right in front of me. I wrapped my arms around him, doing my best to hold him together. He buried his head into my neck and clung to me as he cried.
I absorbed every tear, every sob—everything.
Whatever Beau handed me, I took from him and carried it on my shoulders while he couldn’t.
“He did tell me one more thing before they intubated him,” I said, kissing Beau’s forehead as I touched his slightly damp hair.
Beau sniffed and cleared his throat. “What did he say?”
“He said I needed to make up with my boyfriend. And that you loved me so much it wasn’t even funny.”
A strangled laugh came out of his mouth. “Yeah?”
“Mm hmm.”
“Angel might have run into your room when Trey was over. He knew we had separate rooms. I had to explain things to him.”
“He didn’t say a word to me about it,” I said, thinking what a good friend Trey was—is.
“He’s right, though. I’m so in love with you, Geneviève. And I’m so sorry for fucking everything up. I should have told you about the boys right away. You’re just so—perfect, in every damn way. I was scared of telling you until I absolutely had to.”
“I’m far from perfect, Beau. It was mostly the fact that—you didn’t trust me enough to handle it. To walk through this with you. Instead, you kept it to yourself,” I told him, feeling my heart break all over again as I remembered the shock of learning about the boys from the reporters.
“Of course, I trusted you. Of anyone in my life, I trust you the most to do what’s right. But you’ve idolized me for so long—I was worried you’d think differently of me.”
“Nah, I stopped idolizing you a long time ago, Moreau.”
He let out a low laugh, and it felt good against my skin. “That’s good to know, Martin,” he said, his voice teasing.
“I’m sorry for letting Sienna get into my head. I saw you guys on TV, hugging and being a family—I didn’t want to stand in your way to be together.”
Beau sighed and kissed the back of my hand. “Geneviève, there are certain words you cannot say in our bed. And my ex’s name is one of them.”
“What are the others?”
“That’s about it.”
Now it was my turn to laugh.
“Fuck, I missed that sound,” he said, his lips gently touching my cheek, making me shiver. “I love you, Geneviève. So much.” Then he kissed me, his lips soft and wet.
My hands cupped his still damp cheeks. I could feel the moisture there, and it caused my chest to constrict.
“I love you, too,” I murmured against his lips.
“Marry me, Geneviève. For real. I’m complete shit without you. Nothing means anything without you here with me. I’m a fucking wreck.”
A warmth I’ve never known flowed through me.
Beau Moreau asking me to be his wife.