“You're so full of yourself.” I rolled my eyes. “So, I'm curious, what's this dating app called?”
His smile grew. “MeatMarket.”
“MeatMarket!Beau! That doesn't sound like a dating app—that sounds like a hook-up app.”
He patted my head condescendingly. “Nothing gets past you, does it? Good to see you've still got the brains that made you valedictorian, Rach.”
My skin crawled. “Yeah, and it's good to see you're still a disgusting pig. You're worse than that, actually. You're a trashyfuck-boinow.”
“Fuck-boi!” Beau repeated, highly amused. His great upper body shook with laughter. And then he reached out and put his arm around my shoulders.
His repulsive touch made the tiny hairs on my neck stood straight up. “Oh my God, what are you doing? Don't touch me.”
Beau took it all in stride. He gently shook me with his massive arm. “I missed you, you know that?”
“Ugh.” I shrank under the oppressive weight of his heavy arm.
“No, I don't mean I actually missyou.More like, I miss how we always gave each other so much shit. Fuck, Rach, it was kinda—”
I threw an elbow into his ribs,hard.And I hoped it hurt him, too.“Camille. You will call meCamille.”
“Fine. Camille.” Beau soothed his ribs with his free hand. “I'm gonna let you in on a secret, 'cause I'm a little drunk. Here goes: I only called you Rachel all along because I knew it pissed you off.”
“No way. Really?” I gasped sarcastically. “This might blow your tiny jock brain, but I figured that out a long time ago, Beau.”
His smile grew. “It was actually harder to remember to call youRachelthan it was to call you Camille.”
“You're only making it worse, Beau.” Since he wasn't going to keep his hands to himself, I physically removed his arm from my shoulders myself. “And don't touch me again.”
Beau shrugged. He used his freed arm to reach across the table and grabbed the bottle of Grey Goose from an ice bucket. He refilled his glass and poured one for me, too. “Here. Got some juice if you want too.”
“Thanks.”
I grabbed the orange juice and poured myself a screw-driver.
Beau mixed his vodka with water.
“Vodka and water?” My lip curled with disgust. “That sounds heinous.”
“You get used to it. We all drink it.” He gestured at his teammates. “No carbs, no sugar—that's why.”
“Ohh. That's a good idea, actually.”
“Glad to win the valedictorian's approval,” he teased.
I slapped at his chest with my back-hand. But his chest was so sturdy and rock-solid, I might as well have slapped a brick-wall.
“I haven't approvedyou of anything,” I said, discreetly soothing my hand under the table.
Beau held up his glass. “Cheers to that, I guess.”
I touched my glass to his.Clink.
“So how is it, being a hockey player? Is it everything you dreamed of? Everything you imagined?”
Beau chuckled. “Sure. I get to play the game I love.”
“And you get all the money, and all the fancy clothes, and the luxury cars, andoh,all those women,” I added.
