1. Shelby #3
My life changed forever that day. And the two people I blame the most for it are Beau and Chad.
But desperate times call for desperate measures. And frankly? I’m a desperate-ass bitch.
Which is why I swallowed my pride, packed up my house, sold it at the first offer, and moved to Nashville.
And I hate the reasons I’m here, and the reminders they bring with them, every single day.
“How’s the shoulder?”
I don’t look back to Beau as I start my slow and methodical warm up, doing the prescribed shoulder rotations to loosen things up before I start any form of swinging. “Fine.”
“Are you saying it’s fine because it is fine, or is it not fine and you’re lying to me?”
I’m turned away from Beau, so he can’t see the eye roll I give him, but based on the snicker I just heard, he knew I sent it.
“Everything is great,” I lie. “Getting back into form. I’ll be ready to go for my first tournament.”
“Good to hear,” Beau says as I walk to my bag to grab a stick I use to help me warm up my shoulder rotations. “And Chad is helping you?”
I don’t know what it is about the tone he just used—the questioning along with the doubt of my decision making—that makes me turn around.
“He is,” I say, throwing a hand on my hip. “Pretty soon, I’ll be back to good as new.”
Beau doesn’t say anything, just laughs under his breath as he lines up his next shot.
“What?”
He shakes his head as he brings back his six-iron, then shoots it forward, hitting it a solid one-hundred and ninety yards.
Asshole.
“I know you want to say something, so just fucking say it.”
He watches the ball land before lowering his club and making eye contact with me. He might be twenty-feet away, but the look he’s giving me is as intense as if we were mere inches apart. It’s…unnerving.
“I’m just surprised you chose to work with Chad.”
Me too. But hell if I’m going to admit that.
“He’s the best. Why wouldn’t I want to work with one of the best?”
In the four months I’ve been in Nashville, this is the first time Beau’s questioned my decision. Why the fuck does he care? Is he afraid I’ll steal his best friend from him?
“I just find it hilarious that you’re so high and mighty about cheaters, yet you’ll work with Chad.”
Believe me, I don’t like it either. But again, desperate times and all that shit.
“It’s different,” I say, turning to grab my nine iron, avoiding eye contact because I’m lying through my teeth.
“Explain. Please.”
I don’t owe Beau, or anyone, an explanation for why I’ve made the decisions I have. Why making a deal with one of the devils in my life is my only option. Yet, I don’t feel like he’s going to let this go.
When I turn back around, I’m surprised to not see the normal disdain in his eyes he usually has for me. No, this look is almost…care? Which can’t be right. It’s very early, and I haven’t had much caffeine, but no way does Beau Devereaux care about me.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but this is purely professional. I needed a new swing and he’s known for finding out-of-the-box ways of helping golfers in situations like mine. Plus, what Chad did to me was years ago.”
“Ha!” Beau barks, loud enough that a few birds in the nearby trees find a new place to roost.
“Why is that funny?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because what I didn’t do, but you think I did, was also years ago. Within a week of what Chad actually did do. Yet, you haven’t forgiven me.”
Is he really trying to compare the two? What an unbelievable pompous asshole this man is.
“It’s absolutely different.” I don’t get a reply, only a pair of raised eyebrows from Beau. “You cheated in golf. He cheated on me with a cart girl.”
“A cheater is a cheater,” Beau says. “Isn’t that what you’ve always said?”
I hate it when my own words come back to bite me in the ass.
Because yes, I’ve said it. Many times. I hate cheating.
It’s unforgiveable. It’s why I didn’t have a mom growing up.
It’s why I’m no longer in a relationship.
And it’s what I’m conveniently overlooking because, unfortunately, Chadwick Ashcroft is one of the best swing coaches in the country, and I need my swing back.
“No words, huh?” Beau says, which only makes my face redder.
“It’s just hilarious that you hate me because you think I cheated.
Which again, I didn’t. Yet, you’ll work with Chad, who definitely cheated.
On you, no less. I always thought I was good with word problems in math, but that’s just not adding up. ”
He’s right. He knows it. I know it. Hell, even Chad knows it. But there’s one big difference—one of those situations broke my heart for a little bit. The other changed the course of my life.
“I don’t need this,” I say, shoving my iron back in my bag before storming away.
“This was fun!” Beau yells as I march back to my golf cart. “I’ll be here again tomorrow morning! Let’s make this a thing!”
I don’t respond. That’s what he wants. Instead I just stew in silence as I make the short drive back to my new home, cursing the entire way that this is now my fucking life.