Page 11 of It's All You: An MM Best Friends to Lovers Romance (Mars Fitness)
This game is absolute chaos. Everyone is on their feet, shouting at the top of their lungs. I keep getting jostled by the guy next to me who is decked out in a jersey and a fully painted face. Beau’s eyes are so big they take up half of his face. His grin takes up the other half. I don’t remember the last time I saw him so animated and hyped up. He’s having the time of his life.
I’ve been a terrible host and an even worse friend. I’m not sure self-preservation is enough of an excuse to have avoided him like the plague for the past couple weeks. But this has always been my dilemma. Staying away from him makes us both feel like shit. Getting close to him is a particularly cruel form of masochism. Finding that sweet spot feels impossible.
The buzzer goes off at the end of the first period and all the players clear off the ice.
“Oh my god, did you see that last play?” Beau goes off, hands waving in the air.
I smile as I watch him, face so bright it’s like the sun is shining through the roof of the arena. I don’t completely follow what he’s saying, but that doesn’t matter. Seeing him enjoy himself like this is the real entertainment for me.
“Yeah, it was amazing.”
Beau pauses and gives me a resigned look. “Do you even know what I’m talking about?”
I offer him an apologetic shrug. “Not really?”
Beau slings his arm around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze. “G, man, what am I going to do with you?”
His arm is heavy and warm and I can’t help but melt into him a bit. He’s looking at me with that familiar quirk of his lips, eyes shining from all the excitement. My heart does a little dance in my chest.
What happens next will be seared into my memory for the rest of my life. One second, it’s only the two of us in the stands, sharing our little moment. The next second, we’re on the Jumbotron’s kiss cam and the entire arena is staring at us, waiting for us to smooch.
I watch the shock register on my enormous face and my mouth opens to explain to them that Beau and I are just friends. Then Beau’s arm tightens around me, pulling me flush to his side, and he leans in. His smile never budges. In fact, I think it gets bigger. His other hand comes up to cradle my face, holding me in place as he plants his lips on my cheek.
One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi.
It isn’t a simple peck. He holds the kiss long enough that there’s no way to dismiss it as a slip of his lips. Then he leans his temple against mine and fucking grins out at the crowd like he’s posing for the cameras.
My mouth hangs open as thousands of spectators whoop and holler at our image. I mean, yeah, maybe a straight guy who is confident in his masculinity won’t mind kissing his best friend on the cheek sometimes. But this isn’t that. We look like a couple. There’s no way we can be mistaken for anything else.
The camera cuts away as quickly as it cut to us, leaving me stunned and staggering.
“Why did you do that?” I sound accusatory. And yeah, maybe I am, because what the actual fuck?
Beau looks at me, genuinely confused. “Do what?”
“That!” I wave at my cheek, which still burns with the imprint of his lips on it.
He sits back, though his arm is still slung over the back of my seat. “It was the kiss cam,” he says, like that explains anything.
“I know it’s the kiss cam!” I hiss, not wanting to draw any more attention than we already have.
“You’re supposed to kiss when you’re on the kiss cam,” he says slowly, as if I might not understand him otherwise. He’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind, and what the hell, maybe I have.
I fold over, elbows on my knees, fingers stabbed through my hair. I want to grab Beau and show him what a real kiss looks like. I want to freaking strangle him. He needs to figure his life out sooner rather than later, because one of these days, I’m either going to stab him or fuck him. Neither option is good.