The Vincent Boys 01 - The Vincent Boys

nervously and slipped my hand into his. I wanted to live a little and this was definitely living a little.
    “Let’s do this,” I said, smiling up at him. He squeezed my hand before leading me inside.
    A band was playing a really bad version of Sweet Home Alabama on a small makeshift stage as we stepped inside. Cigarette smoke, beer, and cheap perfume combined to make an unpleasant smell. I fought the urge to cover my nose. Greasy-looking men with stomachs that hung over their jeans, tattoos on their arms and trashy-looking women perched on their laps or draped against them as they danced, littered the place. Beau let go of my hand and slipped his arm around my waist.
    He bent his head down and whispered, “I need to show possessiveness in here in order to keep the others away from you.”
    I had no complaints so I nodded and pressed up against him. “Um, aren’t they going to kick us out? We’re underage.”
    Beau chuckled and led me over to an empty pool table.
    “Nope.” He glanced over at the bar and gave someone a little nod then grabbed two pool sticks and handed me one.
    “Now it’s time I taught you how to play some pool.”
    The wicked gleam in his eyes made me want to agree to anything he asked.
    “Beau, what’re ya doin’ bringing the preacher’s daughter here?” a lady with long black hair and barely any clothes on asked as she sat a beer down in front of him. She turned her gaze my way and I saw familiar hazel eyes staring at me with concern. This was Honey Vincent, Beau’s mother. I’d seen glimpses of her when she’d shown up on rare occasions to pick Beau up from Sawyer’s. But I’d never had a proper conversation with her. She was gorgeous even with all the thick make-up and cheap clothing.
    “Mama, you remember Ashton,” Beau said before taking a swig of his beer. I smiled at her even though she was studying me like I was a strange animal at the zoo.
    “Hello, Ms. Vincent. It’s nice to see you again.”
    She tilted her head and a lock of long, dark hair fell over her shoulder. “Since when did Sawyer’s sweet little girlfriend start slumming it at the bar?”
    I tensed and glanced over at Beau.
    “Mama, that’s enough. Ashton and I are friends. We have been for most of our lives. I’m keeping her company while Sawyer’s out of town.” Honey looked me up and down before turning back to Beau and shaking her head.
    “If that’s what you want to tell yourself, son, but I ain’t stupid and for her sake I hope she ain’t either.” Then she touched Beau’s cheek with her hand and turned to walk back to the bar.
    “Bring Ash a Coke,” he called out after her. She raised her hand in the air and wiggled her deep red fingernails as a way of acknowledgement.
    “Sorry about her but she isn’t a big fan of Sawyer’s parents, so anything connected to them is instantly questionable. She’ll warm up to you after she gets to know you.”
    I wasn’t sure I was brave enough to get to know Honey Vincent. She reminded me of an adult version of Nicole. Instead of sharing those thoughts, I just nodded. Beau grinned and walked over to stand behind me.
    “Now, for your first lesson in pool. We’ll do a few practice rounds before we actually play.” Beau sat his stick down and nodded at the one in my hand. “You’re going to hit the white ball into the other balls and break them,” he explained.
    I took the stick, bent over the table and tried to remember all the times I’d watched people play pool on television. Before I could think too hard, Beau’s warm body closed in behind me. His hand covered mine, making me light-headed. It took me a second to remember to breathe.
    “This is the part I’ve been looking forward to,” he murmured in my ear as he adjusted my hands on the stick. The heat from his body made me want to snuggle up against him. I tried to stay focused but I could feel his warm breath on my ear and his hip was touching my behind. His chest barely grazed my back.
    “You’re shivering, Ash,” he whispered.
    I didn’t know how to respond. I couldn’t blame it on being cold. I was inside an overly warm bar in the middle of the summer.
    “Now you’re ready to make the shot.” His voice sent chills over my body and I nodded, afraid if I gazed up at him I’d throw myself in his arms. Instead, I let him guide me into making the shot. Colorful balls rolled all over the table but I couldn’t seem to concentrate.
    “Good job. We’ve got to decide which