Beau stalked away from the house, pissed that he wasn't inside sleeping next to Hattie. If he wasn't there, who would hear her soft snores, the cute sounds that she made in her sleep? He loved every last one of her movements, the way her eyes moved under their lids when she dreamed.
If he wasn't there, who would watch over her from a distance, taking in everything about her?
He knew the small tells of when she was bored, or happy, or confused, or upset, or disappointed. None of the other guys seemed to see it, the hearts in their eyes for her blinding them.
He saw them. How could he not? It was almost like an insatiable need.
And now that he was walking away from her, it was like there were sharp blades in his veins, cutting him into a million pieces the further away he got.
