Back to Me (Book Three ✓)

twenty-one

EMMA

"Okay," Nervous energy courses through my veins, excited anticipation mixing with uncertainty, as I drop my last piece of crust into the box. He said I could ask him anything but I don't want to push him too soon and end the game before it's really begun. And yet... the possibilities are endless.

Biting my lip, I point to his hands. "Start easy," I continue our conversation from the other night. "The tattoos on your knuckles. What are those dates?"

"The year I was born," Beau mutters, fingers lightly tracing the numbers on his right hand. "And the year I left Boston."

I blush. Duh, I could've figured that out myself.

Beau cocks his head to the side, pushing inky black strands out of his eyes. "That's the deep, dark secret keeping you up at night, Em?"

My gaze falls to my hands folded in my lap. He's teasing, but it's not just the big stuff. I want to know everything.

"Okay," I offer a coy smirk, nudging his knee with my foot. He catches it, pulling it into his lap and tracing slow circles on my instep with long, gentle fingers. "How old were you when you lost your virginity?"

Beau's brows shoot up, hidden behind his hair, as an amused smirk spreads over his lips. Still, he indulges my silly request with bored neutrality. "Fourteen."

I let out a low whistle. Here I was thinking seventeen after prom was young, a product of being relatively unsupervised under Grams care during high school.

"Do you remember who it was with? I want details." I tease him with wiggling brows, ideas of a young Beau trying to flirt with anyone making me giggle despite myself. I wonder what he was like, back then. Before the entire world knew who he was.

"Just some girl from Boston." He shrugs his shoulders casually, focused more on my feet than anything. "It wasn't very eventful until the end. Her parents came home and I had to climb out the window. Typical kid stuff, right?"

I roll my eyes playfully. Of course he had to sneak out. Would it be Beau if it didn't involve some form of rebellion?

"You were always getting into trouble. Weren't you?" Still, a stupid, knowing grin stretches over my face anyways.

He nods, wicked gleam in his eye. "Where's the fun in always doing what you're told?"

"But you never do." I point out with a laugh. Suddenly, a thought hits me, making my giddiness turn to envy. It's so stupid, so childish. But something about Beau brings that side out of me.

"Was it Zoey?" I mumble, too embarrassed to meet his gaze at first, my voice quiet in the heavy pizza air, shame coloring my words.

When I do finally raise my gaze, his head is cocked to the side, eyes squinted at me, a deep frown line between his brows. I feel the blush creep up my neck and into my cheeks but don't take the question back, needing to know now that it's out there. Just how important is she, to him?

Finally, he shakes his head, resuming his tracing over my skin. "No, it wasn't."

Something feels lighter immediately and I push forward, ready to move past the pretty blonde who must have given birth to his nephew by now. I try to ignore the fact that their lives are so incredibly entwined with one another and focus on our own story.

"Oh!" I lean forward, resting my chin in my hands. This one seems obvious to ask. "What made you choose me? You know, out of everyone in town. You asked me to dinner, had me sign the contract." I shrug my shoulders casually. "I've always wondered - why me? Why not Gemma or a real fan?"