The Vincent Boys 01 - The Vincent Boys

stop myself. A low chuckle startled me and I glanced over as Beau sunk down low enough in his seat so his head rested on the worn leather instead of the hard window behind him.
    “I guess you’re not completely perfect. Sawyer’d never call someone a name. Does he know you use the word whore?”
    This time I gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white. He was trying to make me mad and he was doing a fabulous job. I had no response to his question. The truth was, Sawyer would be shocked I’d called someone a whore. Especially his cousin’s girlfriend.
    “Loosen up, Ash, it’s not like I’m going to tell on you. I’ve been keeping your secrets for years. I like knowing my Ash is still there somewhere underneath that perfect facade.”
    I refused to look at him. This conversation was going somewhere I didn’t want it to go.
    “No one is perfect. I don’t pretend to be.” It was a lie and we both knew it. Sawyer was perfect and I worked hard to be worthy. The whole town knew I fell short of Sawyer’s glowing reputation.
    Beau let out a short hard laugh. “Yes, Ash, you do pretend to be.”
    I pulled into Nicole’s driveway. Beau didn’t move.
    “She’s passed out. You’re going to have to help her,” I whispered, afraid he’d hear the hurt in my voice.
    “You want me to help a vomiting whore?” he asked with an amused tone.
    I sighed and finally glanced over at him. He reminded me of a fallen angel with the moonlight casting a glow on his sun kissed blonde hair. His eyelids were heavier than usual and his thick eyelashes almost concealed the hazel color underneath.
    “She’s your girlfriend. Help her.” I managed to sound angry. When I let myself study Beau this closely, it was hard to get disgusted with him. I could still see the little boy I’d once thought hung the moon staring back at me. Our past would always be there keeping us from ever really being close again.
    “Thanks for reminding me,” he said, reaching for the door handle without breaking his eye contact with me. I dropped my gaze to study my hands now folded in my lap. Nicole fumbled around in the back of the truck, causing it to shake gently, reminding us she was back there. After a few more silent moments he finally opened the door.
    Beau carried Nicole’s limp body to the door and knocked. It opened and he walked inside. I wondered who opened the door. Was it Nicole’s mom? Did she care her daughter was passed out drunk? Was she letting Beau take her up to her room? Would Beau stay with her? Crawl in bed with her and fall asleep? Beau reappeared in the doorway before my imagination got too carried away.
    Once he was back inside the truck I cranked it up and headed for the trailer park where he lived.
    “So tell me, Ash, is your insistence to drive home the drunk guy and his whore girlfriend because you’re the perpetual good girl who helps everyone? ’Cause I know you don’t like me much, so I’m curious as to why you want to make sure I get home safe.”
    “Beau, you’re my friend. Of course I like you. We’ve been friends since we were five. Sure, we don’t hang out anymore or go terrorizing the neighborhood together but I still care about you.”
    “Since when?”
    “Since when what?”
    “Since when do you care about me?”
    “That is a stupid question, Beau. You know I’ve always cared about you,” I replied. Even though I knew he wouldn’t let such a vague answer fly. The truth was I never really talked to him much anymore. Nicole was normally wrapped around one of his body parts. And when he spoke to me it was always to make some wisecrack.
    “You hardly acknowledge my existence,” he replied.
    “That’s not true.”
    He chuckled. “We sat by each other in History all year and you hardly ever glanced my way. At lunch you never look at me and I sit at the same table you do. We’re at the field parties every weekend and if you ever turn your superior gaze in my direction it’s normally with a disgusted expression. So, I’m a little shocked you still consider me a friend.”
    It would be easier to believe this was the alcohol talking but I knew it wasn’t. We hadn’t been alone in over three years. Since the moment I became Sawyer’s girlfriend, our relationship had changed.
    The large oak trees signaled the turn into the trailer park Beau had lived in all his life. The rich beauty of the southern landscape as you pulled onto the gravel road was deceiving. Once I drove