Beau had had a girlfriend in high school, someone he’d known for years and felt comfortable with as a person. He was fond of Donna—with a start of guilt he realized he’d barely even thought of her at all in the last year—but he hadn’t loved her. Kissing her had been a trial and one he’d only engaged in when it was clear he had no other alternative. She had been his disguise, his camouflage, and being her boyfriend was a reluctant role that he’d had to play. Touching her had been a betrayal of everything he was and everything he wanted, and he wasn’t stupid enough to believe he wasn’t betraying her as well. He’d told her he loved her, and he had lied. He’d told her he wanted her, and that was even more of a lie. Beau was amazed she’d never figured it out, and the only thing that probably ke
