The Vincent Boys 01 - The Vincent Boys

night. It was something I dreaded, but this was much worse. The screen on my phone lit up before Eye of the Tiger began to play for the first time in three weeks. Sawyer had put Eye of the Tiger on my phone to be his special ring. Numbly I reached for it and pressed the accept button before lifting it to my ear.
    “Hello.”
    “AHHH, man, baby, is it good to hear your voice! Did you get my email? I waited until I thought you might be awake to call. We’re about two hours away. I’m having Dad drop me off at your house. I can’t wait to see you.”
    Guilt, frustration, anger, panic all seemed to whirl around inside me at once. My grip on the phone tightened as I took several deep breaths.
    “Um, hey, yeah, I just got your email. I can’t believe y’all are coming home early.” The lack of enthusiasm in my voice was unmistakable. A second of silence ticked by and I knew Sawyer’s brain was working overtime.
    “Did you just wake up? You don’t sound real happy about my coming home. I expected squeals of delight or something.”
    Perfect, make him suspicious before he even gets here. I needed to fix this. I couldn’t come between Beau and Sawyer. They’d been as close as brothers all their life. I’d never be able to forgive myself if I caused a rift between them. The fact I was worried about Beau and Sawyer’s relationship instead of mine and Sawyer’s surprised me.
    “Sorry, I’m thrilled. I just woke up. Last night was Grana’s viewing and her funeral is this afternoon. It’s been a rough few days.”
    “What? Ash, baby. Your Grana passed away? Oh baby, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?” I’d forgotten he didn’t know. The email I never wrote him flashed in my memory. Instead of telling him about Grana I’d run to Beau. Would any of this have happened if I’d just emailed Sawyer and gone with Mom to deal with funeral arrangements that day? Did I wish things had happened differently?
    “It wasn’t something I wanted to write in an email,” I explained, hoping he understood or at the very least accepted my excuse.
    “I’m coming home. I’ll rush to the house and change before I come over so I won’t have to leave before the funeral. I can drive you there. It’s going to be okay. I’ll be there soon. I promise.”
    How would he feel if I told him things were okay? Beau had helped me say my goodbye already. Beau had held me while I cried. My tears were dried up now. I knew my Grana was happy with those fancy streets of gold and a fabulous mansion. She always said God would have her a big ol’ rose garden she could tend to up there.
    “Ash, you okay?”
    “I’m sorry, I was thinking about the funeral. I’ll see you when you get here.”
    “Okay. I love you.” Those were the words we always said when we hung up the phone. Normally I was the one who said them first. This time I’d completely forgotten.
    “Love you too,” I replied dutifully before hanging up.
    I did love him. I always had, just not the way I should. Deep down I’d always known something was wrong between us. Until these last few weeks with Beau I hadn’t really been able to put my finger on what was missing in our relationship. With Beau, I could be me and he loved me. Sawyer loved the me I worked very hard to be. If Sawyer knew the real me, the girl he thought I’d left behind with my childhood, he’d never love me. He couldn’t. But I couldn’t be with Beau. I could never choose him over Sawyer. It would rip apart a lifelong friendship. Sawyer had been the one to take care of Beau as a kid. He looked out for him and shared his wealth with him. Even now Sawyer guarded Beau from so many things. Just last year the coach was going to kick Beau off the football team for showing up to practice with a hangover. Sawyer had begged the coach and promised to personally make sure Beau walked the straight and narrow on practice and game days. Beau needed Sawyer. I couldn’t get between them.
    I threw the pillow I’d been squeezing in my arms across the room and growled in frustration. This was ridiculous. I was ridiculous. How could I have let myself do this? What had I been thinking? I’d let myself care too much about Beau Vincent. I didn’t just care about him, I wanted him. It was the worst thing in the world I could’ve done. Having him meant ripping away the only family he cared about. I’d have the whole town talking about him and hating him for stealing Sawyer’s girl. It was impossible. The