I gulped. “Well, er, okay.”
“I really had a good time catching up with you last night at the club,” he trailed off.
“That's it? That's not much of a confession.”
“No. That's not it. I'm just working up the nerve.” He paused. “Camille, the truth is, I didn'texpectto enjoy hanging out with you as much as I did.”
“Okay, um, thanks. I guess.” I fidgeted with my hands.
“Well, you know, we've always been at each other's throats and stuff. We were never actually friends. We never hung out or anything like that.”
“Sure. I felt the same way. That's why I was wondering why you invited Piper and I out in the first place.”
“I—well.” He stammered. He couldn't quite get it out—but I already knew what he was about to tell me.
“You wanted to fuck Piper, didn't you? To rub it in my face?”
“Piper? No!” The look of shock on his face told me he was telling the truth. Then his expression grew serious again. “I wanted to sleep with you. To get back at you.”
“Get back at me?”
“Yeah, you know. A grudge-fuck.”
“Grudge-fuck, ew,” I muttered under my breath. “But no, I mean, get back at me forwhat?”
“Really? Still playing innocent?”
“Playing innocent aboutwhat,Beau?” I gave a brusque laugh.
“For the second time, you're a bad actress.” He paused. “The Beau BradfordBlandwagon. Ring a bell?”
Imight have tried to deny it if I hadn't felt the cold, heavy rush of blood falling from my face.
“Oh,” I said in a small voice. “I didn't think you even knew about that site.”
“Yeah, I knew about it. Hey, I have to admit, it was pretty funny. ” He forced a smile. He tried to look happy and unaffected but I knew, deep down, that I'd hurt him. “Everyone in school sure thought the site was hilarious, anyway. Even the boys on the team were lifting jokes from your site to rib me.”
I gulped.Shit.
“How did you know it was me …?”
“You kidding? Who else would it have been? You were always quiet in class, but I could tell you had this cynical side.” He paused. “Plus, I turned the charm on, and your best friend totally gave you up.”
“Sara,” I cursed under my breath. I put my hand on his forearm. “God, Beau. I'm so sorry. I was just lashing out, because—I don't even know! I guess I was jealous of all the attention you got …”
Beau shook his head. “Look. You don't have to explain. If anything, you helped harden me.”
“Harden you? To what?”
“Up until that point, I wanted everyone to love me. In fact, I thought everyonehadto love me, that it wasn't possible not to love me.” He wagged his finger at me. “But your site. Man. That burned at me.”
I hung my head.
“AndthenI realized—hey, I don'thaveto be loved. Not everyone's going to love me, so what's the point? Embrace the hate. Turns out that strategy worked pretty well for me on the ice, too.”
My temples throbbed as the horrifying realization set in:I'dmade Beau Bradford into what he was. Me. I was the one responsible for theobnoxious, sociopathic assholethat I claimed I hated so much.
Still, I tried to resist that bit of knowledge, and all of its implications. “But I made that site because of the way you teased me, Beau. If you wanted to be loved, you sure had a funny way of showing it.”