Fifty shades of Beaumont // Randy

Chapter 5

'Andy, you should steer clear of me. I'm not the man for you.'

Chapter five: rejection
Andy's point of view

Kiss me, damn it! I implore him, but I can't move. I'm paralyzed with a strange, unfamiliar need, completly captivated by him. I'm staring at Ryan Beaumont's exquisitely sculptured mouth. Mesmerized, and he's looking down at me, his gaze hooded, his eyes darkening. He's breathing harder than usual, and I've stopped breathing all together. I'm in your arms. Kiss me, please. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and give me a small shake of his head as if in answer to my silent question. When he opens his eyes again, it's with some new prupose, a steely resolve.

"Andy, you should steer clear of me. I'm not the man for you." He whispers.

What? Where is this coming from? Surely I should be the judge of that. I frown up at him, and my head swims with rejection.

"Breathe, Andy, breathe. I'm going to let you stand up and let you go." He says quietly. And he gently pushes me away.

Adrenaline has spiked through my body, from the near miss with the cyclist or the heady proximity to Ryan, leaving me wired and weak. NO! My psyche screams as he pulls away. Leaving me bereft. He has his hands on my shoulders, holding me at arm's length, watching my reactions carefully. And the only thing I can think about is that I wanted to be kissed, made it pretty damn obvious, and he didn't do it. He doesn't want me. I have screwed up the coffee morning.

"I've got it." I breath, finding my voice. "Thank you." I mutter.

How could I have misread the situation between us so utterly? Need to get away from him.

"For what?" He frowns. He hasn't taken his hands off of me.

"For saving me." I whisper.

"That idiot was riding the wrong way. I'm glad I was here. I shudder to think what could have happened to you. Do you want to come and sit down at my place for a moment?" He releases me, his hands by his sides, and I'm standing infront of him like a fool.
I clear my head, I just want to leave. All my vague, unarticulated hopes have been dashed. He doesn't want me. What was I thinking? What would Ryan Beaumont want with me?
I turn around to the light to see it was green. I quickly made my way across, conscious that Beaumont is behind me. Outside his home, I turn to face him but cannot look him in the eyes.

"Thanks for the tea and the photoshoot." I murmur.

"Andy... I..." he stops, and the anguish in his voice demands my attention, so I peer unwillingly up at him. His brown eyes are bleak as he runs his hand through his hear. He looks torn, frustrated, his expression stark, all his carefull control has evaporated.

"What Ryan?" I snap irritably after he says nothing. I just want to go. I need to talk my fragile, wounded pride away and somehow nurse it back to health.

"Good luck with your exams." He murmurs. Hu? This is why he looks so desolate? This is the big send off? Just to wish my luck with my exams?

"Thanks." I can't disguise the sarcasm in my voice. "Goodbye Mr. Beaumont." I turn around, vaguely amazed that I didn't felt again and without giving him a second glance, I disappear down the sidewalk throwards Brook's car.

Once I was in the car I put my head on the wheel. What was I thinking? Unbidden and unwelcome tears pool in my eyes. Why am I crying? I sink into the seat, angry at myself for this senseless reaction. Placing my head on my knees as I let the tears fall down. I am crying over the loss I never had. How ridiculous. I never been on the receiving end of rejection. Okay... so I was always on the last to be picked for basketball or football, but I understood that, running and doing something else like bouncing a ball is not my thing.
Romantically, though, I never put myself out there, ever. A lifetime of insecurity, I'm too short, too skinny and ugly. My long list of faults go on. No one ever liked me since I came out as gay. There was this guy in math class that liked me but no one has ever sparked my interest — no one except Ryan damn Beaumont. Maybe I should be kinder to the likes and compliments of John Rollins and Mikey Cobban, Ugh I just need a good cry.

Stop! Stop! Stop! Start the car, go home, study and forget about him. And stop all this self-pitying, wallowing crap. I take a deep breath and start the car.

~~

Brook is sitting at the table with his laptop when I arrive. His smile fades when he sees me.

"Andy what's wrong?" He asks. I shake my head at him in a 'back off' kinda way. "You've been crying, what did that bastard do to you?"

"Nothing Brook." That's actually the problem.

"Then why have you been crying? You never cry?" He says, his voice softening. He puts his arm around me and hugged me. I need to say something to make him back off.

"I was nearly knocked over by a cyclist." It's the best that I can do. But it distracts him momentarily from... him.

"Jeez Andy, are you okay? Are you hurt?" He holds me at arm's lenght and does a quick visual check up on me.

"No, Ryan saved me." I whisper. "I was quiet shaken."

"I'm not surprised. How was coffee? I know you hate coffee." Brook says.

"I had tea. It was fine, nothing to report really. I don't even know why he asked me." I told him.

"He likes you, Andy." He drops his arm.

"Not anymore. I won't be seeing him again." Yes I know what I said.

"Oh?"

Crap now he's gonna ask me more questions about what happened. I head into the kitchen so he can't see my face.

"Yeah... he's a little out of my league. Brook." I say as dryly as I can.

"What do you mean?" Brook asks.

"Oh Brook, it's obvious." I whirl around and face him as he stands in the kitchen doorway.

"Not to me." He says. "Okay he has more money than you, but than he has more money than most of the people in England."

"Brook, he's—" I shurg.

"Andy, for heaven's shake how many times must I tell you, you're a total babe." He interrupts me.

"Brook please, I need to study." I cut him off.

"Do you want to see the article, it's finished. Mikey took some good pictures?" He asks.

Do I need a visual reminder of the beautiful Ryan I-don't-want-you Beaumont?

"Sure." I faked a smile into my face and stroll throwards his laptop. And there he is, staring at me, looking all gorgeous. I pretend to read the article but ever now and than I got stuck staring at his intens gaze. Searching the photo for a clue why he's not the man for me. And it's suddenly obvious, he's too gorgeous for me. We are poles appart and from two very diffrent worlds. His words make sence, he's not the right man for me. This is what he meant and it made the rejection easier to accept... almost. But I can live with this.

"Very good Brook." I manage to say. "I'm going to study." I'm not gonna think about him for now. I vow to myself as I open my notes, I start to read.
It's only when I'm in bed, when I'm trying to sleep that I allow my thoughts to drift through my strange morning. I keep coming back to the 'I don't do the boy- girlfriend thing.' Quote. And I'm angry that I didn't pounce on this information sooner, when I was in his arms mentally begging him with every fiber of my being to kiss me. He'd said it there and then. He didn't want me as a boyfriend.
I turn on to my side and let myself drift back to sleep and let my dreams take over. That night I dreamed of brown sparkeling eyes, coffee and me being pulled into Ryan Beaumont's chest.

A/N
Woop I'm back! I wanted to upload yesterday but me being too tired didn't wrote a thing.

Enjoin

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