“Beau, maybe we should be quieter?” I moaned as his lips and tongue traced down my neck.
“Nope.”
His hands lifted the shirt up and over my head. “Nothing changes, Geneviève. You hear me?” he said against my nipple. My brain had long since shut off, so I wasn’t completely listening. “Geneviève?”
“Okay, nothing changes,” I said, guiding him closer to my breast.
“That’s right.”
“You guys looked ridiculouslyin love on tv the other night,” Jillian said, bumping her shoulder against mine. “I still can’t believe he called you fillet.” She smiled over at me as we walked through the facility. I’d asked for a ride so Beau could leave and pick up the puppies. There was no sense in him coming back for me when most of my team went straight home anyway.
We had to leave for Vancouver first thing in the morning, so our coach had kept us later. There was a lot to go over, but we were feeling pretty confident about the game. My nerves weren’t even half what they’d been for our last game, and that was a good sign for me.
I laughed at her comment. “He was well rewarded, trust me.”
“I bet he was,” she said, giving me a big, exaggerated wink.
Clearing my throat, I figured it was never going to be a good time to bring this up to her. I was her BFF. So, it was practically my duty to try. “How are things going with—Stuart?”
The smile fell off her face almost instantly. “Oh, fine. You know. He’s—Stuart,” she said, with about as much emotion as she’d say, ‘pass the salt’.
“Trey said he didn’t get why you’re with him.”
She frowned and glared at me. “Why would he say that?”
“He said you’re young and hot and successful. And he’s boring and self-absorbed.”
“Well, he’s the ménage king. But you don’t see me yapping about that all over the place,” she said, her voice holding more than a hint of disgust in it.
I shrugged and switched my bag to my other shoulder. “No, we just talk about it at my place.”
Then we both laughed. I decided to drop the subject of her and Stuart, and Trey and his kingly status. Trey was my friend, but I was never going to question him about his sexual trysts.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about his little—ménage à trois arrangements. But it wasn’t any of my business.
We arrived at the doors, and I prepared for the Vegas heat to hit me as soon as I opened them.
“Gigi, we’d like your comment on the recent news?” a woman stuck a huge microphone in my face.
And she wasn’t the only one. We were bombarded with reporters shouting out questions as lights flashed in my face. TV cameras followed us while I vaguely heard Jillian yelling at them to move out of the way.
What was going on?
“Gigi, how do you feel about Beau’s twin boys? Has he ever mentioned them before now? And if so, why have you guys kept them a secret for four years?”
The world slowed to half-speed. It felt like my legs weighed a few hundred pounds each. Every noise around me sounded garbled and distorted.
What did she say?
Beau’s what?
Twins?
A secret?
For four years?
“Do you want me to kick your ass? Or maybe I’ll just kick your stupid camera right into your head. Move it asshole!” I heard Jillian scream. Her arm went around me, and thank goodness it did because I seriously felt like I was going down.