For the next half hour or so, I told him everything.
All the drama.
From how I felt the first time I saw her, to how I felt when she so readily agreed to get a divorce.
I told him what the owners said.
And what the agent said.
And especially what our parents said.
When I finished—I felt—drained.
Like I needed to sleep for a year.
“Fuck me.”
“Yeah.” I nodded, knowing that even though I’d completely spilled my guts—Beau would keep it to himself.
“You love her?”
I let out a long sigh. “Yeah.”
It was weird, but for some reason, the weight on my shoulders lifted a little more. “Never felt this way about anyone in my life. The first time she spoke to me—it was like something clicked into place perfectly. You know?”
Beau grinned from ear to ear and leaned back against the side of the hot tub. “Does she know that?”
I set my beer down. “I told you, she married me on a Friday, and was more than ready to divorce me on the following Monday.”
He was silent for a few minutes. After he polished off his beer, he opened another one.
“You should tell her, man. I don’t know much about chicks, but the way she was looking at you in all of those clips—” he tipped his beer back, and guzzled at least half of it, “I’d bet she feels the same.”
I didn’t answer.
All I did was shrug and gaze up into the dark sky.
“Trey.”
My eyes shot to his. “What?”
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for acting like an ass. I didn’t realize—how it was between you two.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “You want to hug it out, now or something?”
He cracked up.
Then I did.
After that, we drank more beer and stayed up way too late.