Searching for Beautiful(14)
“Buzz. Based on history. Disqualified.”
Her mouth fell open. “Oh come on! The love story is separate from the ship sinking!”
“You agreed to the rules. No history. Try again.”
Grumbling under her breath, she polished off her beer, grabbed another, and wracked her brain. Crap, there went Shakespeare in Love. Was there anything not based on history? “A Beautiful Mind! And don’t try to argue a historical event. That counts.”
He didn’t answer for a while. She knew he was checking loopholes, so Gen prepared for a big fight. “Okay, I’ll give you that one. Not a bad movie.”
Yes! One more to go. “Oh, oh, The Sound of Music!”
“Buzz.”
“It’s true and it’s a love story!”
“Hmm, let’s think about this. World War II. German invasion. Trek into the mountains to escape Hitler’s regime. History, baby. Disqualifier.”
“I knew you saw that movie and lied about it.”
“Julietta forced me to watch it and I gagged the whole time.”
She pouted, drank some more, and realized she didn’t know too many happy endings. No wonder. They were all fake.
“Give up?”
“No.”
He laughed. “Depressing, ain’t it?”
A few minutes later, she realized she won. “Get ready to spill.”
“What do you got?”
“The Vow.” Gen did a little victory floor dance, feeling more triumphant and capable than she had in a while. “I win, I win, I win.”
He frowned. “What the hell is The Vow?”
“You never heard it? Channing Tatum, baby. Rachel McAdams gets amnesia in an accident, doesn’t remember her husband, and he has to get her to fall in love with him all over again like a stranger. It’s so good.”
“No way is that based on reality. Buzz.”
She shot up. “No buzz. Look it up on your phone—did you bring it?”
He reached over the towel, snagged his phone, and began the search. His disgusted look told her he found it. “This is the most asshat thing I’ve ever read. Amnesia into a love story?”
She sniffed. “It was very romantic and believable.”
“Tatum is so overrated.”
“Jealous?” He flopped back down and took a long swallow. If she was honest, she’d say Wolfe beat out Tatum any day, but she’d die rather than admit it. No need to give him a bigger head than he had. Damn, he smelled good though. Clean. Like pine, water, and cotton, with just a tang of male sweat to grab a woman’s attention. Thank goodness she didn’t think of him in that way. He’d always reminded her more of Adam Levine anyway. Tats, bad-boy angst, and a beautiful soul was a yummy combination.
“The boy can barely act so he takes off his clothes to compensate.”
She hooted with laughter. “Says you.” His image blurred into two. The crickets chirped music and everything around her softened and became more vivid. Oh yeah. Beer number four and she’d be good to go. No, it was five, right? Her nerves calmed, and suddenly, she wasn’t as scared anymore. So she was a runaway bride? So she dumped the best thing that ever happened to her at the altar? So she broke his heart and made him endure endless humiliation?
Big deal.
“Feeling better?” He watched her as she opened her next beer and collapsed back on the ground. The sky spun.
“Yeah. Snooze you lose on the beer.”
“I think you deserve them. Just don’t want you to get sick.”
She giggled. “Remember that time at Mugs they tried introducing karaoke and after too many drinks we got on the bar and sang ‘I Got You Babe’?”
His laugh was infections and stroked her ears like a caress. “That was bad news. If anyone put it on YouTube it would’ve gone viral. Good-bye, respectable hotel career. Good-bye, doctor in training.”
“David hated me drinking. Said it reflected on him and the hospital. Said I’d become an alcoholic like my father.”
His body stiffened next to her, then slowly relaxed. “You’re not a hard drinker, Gen. Believe me, I’ve seen them firsthand. You had some harmless fun before you became a resident. We were younger then. You’d never do anything to jeopardize your reputation or career.”
“Maybe. But sometimes . . .” She trailed off, too horrified to finish. Putting the thought out in the world might make it real.
“Sometimes what?”
She meant to shrug it off. But the world floated above her, beneath her, and she was safe. “Sometimes I wanted to get caught. I fantasized about David breaking up with me and getting kicked out of med school. I craved a huge scandal that would yank my choices from me.” Emotion choked her throat. “I got my wish. And I hate myself for it.” The shame of not being as strong and fierce as she always believed nauseated her. David was right. He’d called her weak, disgusted at her inability to communicate and do what needed to be done. Every day, he’d urged her to be better, but she’d failed over and over, until she ran like a coward on her wedding day.