A gasp leaves my throat when he drops the towel from my body, hauls me over his shoulder, and rushes into the bedroom. I bounce on the bed after he tosses me onto it and crawls up it seconds later, in the space between my legs.
He caresses my hair while staring down at me, his forehead still beaded with water. “I should have said that a long time ago, huh?”
“Yes, definitely.” I curl my legs around his hips, drawing him closer. “Same goes for me. I should’ve told you how much I love you.”
His lips curl into a smile before he slowly kisses me.
We’re wet against the sheets as he makes love to me just as slow, whispering he loves me with every thrust.
My life was empty until I met Rex.
He filled me with light.
Then, when that light began to fade, he lifted me up.
No matter what I’ve gone through, he’s always been by my side.
My dark times are always brightened with the lightness he brings to me.
I stare up at him, watching his face flood with love and desire as he makes love to me.
I know what I need to do.
I have to fix what could break us.
Eventually, Rex has to shower by himself.
I don’t join him. It’d probably end up with wet, sloppy sex again.
My grip on the phone is so tight that I’m shocked my fingers aren’t crushing it.
This has to end.
Rex has opened up his heart to me, giving me his all.
I owe him the same.
If he were to ever find out my secrets, it’d damage our trust.
Would he hate me if I told him? Probably not.
Would he try to fix it? Yes.
Would he hate me when I told him not to? Yes.
It hurts my heart to know I’m hiding this, but he can’t know.
A chill crawls up my spine, and I take a deep, steadying breath when I hit his name.
Me: This has to end.
It takes him less than a minute to respond.
James: No. We’re not ready.
Me: I AM READY.
James: Too bad. I’m not.
I blink away tears.
Me: WHY? This is ridiculous!
James: What’s ridiculous is you leaving me when I told you not to.
My anger spirals out of control as I hold myself back from throwing my phone across the room. Screw him.
Me: Are you kidding me? You know why I left!
I have no idea why I’m arguing. My goal is to make him happy so he leaves me alone.
James: You never gave me the time to explain myself.
Oh, he explained himself aplenty.
He texts again before I reply.
James: Meet me, and we’ll talk.
Me: I’m not meeting you!
James: It’s meet me or nothing.
Horror flows through me.
Meet him.
Rex will for sure ask me what’s going on if I tell him I’m meeting James, but seeing him might be my final way out of this.
Me: Fine. Where?
James: Tomorrow. My place. Noon.
Oh, hell no.
Me: I’m not going to your house.
James: The bistro off-campus?
Me: Too public.
James: Public is anywhere but my house.
Me: I’ll be there at noon.
James: Love you.
There’s no stopping me from texting him back with my precious endearment.
Me: Go screw yourself.
James: I liked it better when you screwed me.
I throw my phone down on the bed.
I hate him so damn much, and I know he won’t make it easy on me tomorrow, but I have to attempt to play nice with him. All I need is for him to sign a document.
If only it were that simple.
I’ve never lied to Rex before.
I’ve omitted the truth, yes, but never flat-out lied.
That’ll change tomorrow.
22
Rex
“Hey, babe, what are you up to today?”
Carolina whips around at my question, giving me her back when she opens a cabinet and takes forever finding her mug of choice.
“Hanging out with my mom and Tricia,” she replies, twirling around in her socks with two mugs. “We’re having lunch. Shopping. Girl time. Should be done before dinner.” She glances down at the floor as she makes the few steps to the coffeepot. “You?”
I shrug. “Might go for a run and then work on the game.”
“Want to stay in or go out for dinner later?”
“Whatever you want.”
We eat a quick breakfast, and after she kisses me good-bye, I change into my running clothes. The sun is out, a nice breeze flowing, when I run through Town Square. I’m interrupted by a good fifteen people with questions about my mother and Carolina.
Before heading back to the apartment, I make a pit stop at the local doughnut shop that has a kick-ass smoothie menu. Something with coffee in it sounds damn good. My sleep has been shit lately, and I have a long day of working on my game. Not that I’m complaining since the lack of sleep is from all the sex I’ve been having with Carolina. We’re like two teenagers who just discovered orgasms.
I walk into the small shop, the smell of fresh baked dough and sugar smacking my face, and I stand in the busy line. People are seated around small pub tables, snacking and drinking.
“Rex! Hey, Mom! Rex is here!”
Henry comes running over to me, a doughnut in his hand and chocolate frosting on his face. Tricia is struggling to keep up with him as she pushes the stroller with Addy in it while carrying a pink smoothie in her hand.
Henry pops the final bite of his doughnut into his mouth, not muttering another word as he chews it up when Tricia reaches us.
“Hi, Rex,” she greets, thrusting a napkin into Henry’s hand.
“Hey, guys.” I ruffle my hand through Henry’s hair before turning my attention to Tricia with a polite smile.
“Can I come over and play video games today?” Henry bursts out.
“If it’s okay with your mom.”
Carolina brings Henry over when she babysits sometimes. He loves my video games. Plus, I feed him junk food.
Speaking of Carolina …
My eyes sweep over the shop before returning to Tricia. “Is Carolina with you?”
She shakes her head, her answer drawing out in confusion, “No … is she supposed to be?” Her eyes widen, showing the regret of asking me that question.
“She said she was hanging out with you and your mom.” I step out of line when my turn comes up, losing my place, but I don’t want to miss talking to Tricia for answers.
“Uh …” Tricia fumbles for words. “Maybe she and my mom had plans and forgot to tell me.”
I nod. “I’ll call her.”
Shock and apology flood her face before passing into worry.
Carolina isn’t someone who lies.
The only times she hasn’t been truthful with me is when it’s about him.
I say bye, no longer giving a shit about the smoothie, and fish my phone from my pocket as I speed-walk toward my apartment.
When I hit her name, I get no answer.
I try again.
Rings until it hits voicemail.
And again.
Not trying to be on the line of stalker shit, but what the hell is happening?
Is she hurt?
I’d think it was an emergency had she not lied about being with her sister.
She’s hiding something from me.
My mind twists and turns with possible scenarios.
I shove my phone back into my shorts pocket and sprint home. I’m nearly out of breath when I get there and rush up the stairs while calling her again. Her phone is ringing when I walk into the living room.
“Dude, that thing has been ringing nonstop,” Josh complains when I come into his view. “I’m half-tempted to throw it out the window.”
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“Is Lina here?” I rush out, searching the room how I did at the doughnut shop.
“I woke up fifteen minutes ago, but I haven’t seen or heard her.”
She’d have also answered her phone if she were.
Her phone rings again, the call not from me, and I find it on the nightstand when I walk into my bedroom, following the noise.
Tricia calling flashes across the screen.
The call ends before I get the chance to answer. Snatching the phone, I see tons of text messages on her screen. All of them from James.
The fuck?
I try four different passwords before succeeding in unlocking her phone. I’m an asshole for this, but she’s been missing, and a bad guy from her past is texting her.
Something is up.
James is at the top of the list when I open her texts.
James: You still coming over today?
Carolina: I’ll be there.
James: Wear something sexy.
I clutch the phone, ready to throw it across the room, but I stop myself since it’s not mine.
It’s a jackass move, but I read through their few texts. Most of the texts have been deleted, although I’m certain they’re similar. I’m capable of hacking into her phone and reading them, but the thought makes me sick to my stomach.
My head spins so hard that I can hardly think straight as I continue reading the texts she sent at ten this morning.
Carolina: Leaving now. Be there in 2 hours.
James: Can’t wait.
She left twenty minutes after sending that message, and an hour and a half has passed.
How has she not realized she forgot her phone?
The phone beeps with another text.
James: Where are you?
I debate on answering when another text comes.
James: I made us lunch. How far away are you?
James: Baby, answer me, so I know you’re still coming.
I nearly puke at him calling her baby.
I want to throw the phone into the toilet and flush the fucker.
I hit his name to get the contact information and grab my laptop, doing a search on his phone number even though I already know who this James is. She broke down and told me that night she cried in my arms.
My suspicion is verified.
James Cordry.
Professor James Cordry.
Motherfucking asshole.
Why is Carolina talking to him again?
All I can do now is wait for answers.
Four hours later, Carolina comes barging into the apartment.
Uneasiness lines her soft features as the lies start falling from her lips. “I’m sorry if you tried calling. I lost my phone.” Her eyes are red when she looks at me. “Can you use the Find My Phone feature you did last time this happened?”
My eyes darken on her, my pulse hammering in my throat as I take her in and stay seated on the couch, her phone gripped in my palm.
She’s fighting to look cool, calm, and collected.
Too bad I know her well enough that she’s far from that.
Guilt screams along every feature of her beautiful, lying face.
I hold the phone up. “Found it.”
She releases a sigh of relief. “Thank God. I didn’t want to buy a new one.”
This is a shitty situation, and I feel like a shitty person.
An insecure guy who’s interrogating his girlfriend about cheating.
My hand clenches around the phone, dread sinking through my veins of where this will lead. Hesitation hits me before I reply, and I take in every inch of her, searching for differences.
Her lips look plumper than when she left.
Did they kiss?
Her face is more flushed.
Did they have sex?
She barely pays me a look when she grabs the phone. “Thank you.” Her tone is polite—her church voice is what I call it. “I’m going to change into something more comfortable.”
I nod my head, my voice bitter. “By the way, how was hanging out with Professor Cordry?”
She freezes mid-turn, gaping at me. “W-what?”
My teeth grit. “You weren’t with your mom and sister today.”
“What are you talking about?” She grips her throat, rubbing it, catching the truth to replace it with lies.
“I ran into Tricia earlier, and you were nowhere to be found.” I snap my fingers. “She didn’t even know you had plans. Words of advice: get your story straight if you’re going to lie.”
“What?” she repeats, as if that were the only word she knew.
Her phone beeps, and pain flicks along her face when she glances at the screen.
I raise a brow, releasing a harsh laugh. “Is that a text from … what is the professor to you?”
My asshole is coming through, but I don’t care.
Why the hell did she push us to be more than friends so much if she was still seeing him?
Was I her rebound until they got back together?
“Rex.” Her lower lip trembles, and the phone drops from her hand to the floor. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Explain it then,” I spit. “It sure looks like you lied to me and went to him.” I spread my legs, leaning forward, and rest my elbows onto my knees, shaking my head and feeling like a fucking fool. “You deleted most of your texts with him … out of what? Guilt? Secrecy?” I tap my temple. “Only liars have to delete shit from their phones.”
“James and I … we have history.” She clutches her arms around her body.
“And we fucking don’t?” I burst out.
“You know what I mean, Rex.”
I stand and thrust my thumb into my chest. “I was the one who held you in my arms when you were crying over him!” I shake my head with a snarl. “Now what, huh? You still have feelings for him? He decided he was done sticking his dick in other women and wants you back?”
“We … we needed to talk,” she stammers, her face turning red.
“In person? You drove two hours to talk instead of a phone call?” I throw my arms out. “Or even a text—you know, how you’ve been communicating with him behind my back?”
“No.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “He’d only talk to me in person.” When she opens them, she blinks back tears, causing me to soften my tone.
“To do what?”
“End things.”
“Didn’t you end things months ago? Have you been talking to him behind my back this entire time?” The anger returns. I’m burning with so many questions.
“No …” Her eyes drop. “Sometimes.”
“Jesus!” My voice is thick as it rises. “This is why I didn’t want us to cross that line! I wish I’d never touched you!”
“Don’t say that,” she whispers, tears falling down her cheeks. “It’s complicated.”
“Damn it, Carolina, I can do complicated.”
She looks away from me.
I pinch the bridge of my nose before moving in front of her. “What’s going on? Why are you talking to him? Seeing him?”
“Because he won’t give me a divorce!”
23
Carolina
Six Months Earlier
The text on my phone has me grinning like a child on Christmas.
James: I love you, my wife. Come over.
Wife!
That grin overtakes my face at the endearment.
Me: I thought you were busy tonight?
I asked him to have dinner at his place, but he told me he had a business dinner to attend.
James: Change of plans.
Me: Just got to my dorm. Give me an hour, and I’ll be there.
James: Turn around and come see me. I miss you, baby.
Me: Fine. Twenty minutes.
James: Is your roommate there?
Weird question.
Me: IDK?
James: Have you talked to her today?
Me: This morning. Why?
James: No reason. Hu
rry up and bring your cute ass here.
My dorm room door is unlocked, and I hear sobbing as soon as I walk in. Margie is collapsed on the floor, her back slumped against her bed, and her face is red and puffy when she peeks up at me.
“Margie?” I drop my bag and fall onto my knees next to her. “Are you okay?” Stupid question on my part considering she’s a crying mess.
She sniffles, mascara running down her cheeks. “Yes …” Sniffles. “No.”
My stomach flip-flops as bad thoughts rush my mind. “Did someone hurt you?”
She shakes her head.
“What then?”
She rubs at her eyes, smearing her makeup more, and blinks away tears. “Promise you won’t judge.”
I reach forward and squeeze her hand. “Promise not to judge.”
She inhales a breath of courage. “I’m sleeping with a professor.”
Oh, man.
That confession hits close to home.
“I take it that fell apart?” I ask in concern.
“I didn’t know he was married!” she shrieks, the tears reemerging. “I was over at his house earlier and went through his phone.” Her voice rises. “He was texting someone he called My Wife. He got married in Vegas last weekend!” She snags a flip-flop from the floor and throws it across the room. “I’m so fucking stupid!”
My body stiffens, ice chilling my veins. “What?”
“He’s been sleeping with some other slut and married her,” she seethes, the words spewing out like venom. She slams her palm against her chest, her cries louder. “Why wouldn’t he marry me? Why’d he pick some skank-ass ho over me?”
I dread the answer before I ask the question, “Which professor?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She pulls her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them.
“Come on,” I push. “I won’t tell anyone.”
Her nostrils flare, her sadness swirling into anger. “Professor Cordry. Asshole of Psychology.”
My head spins, and I suck in my cheeks to hoard in my anger … my pain.
The name is a slap in the face.
My voice is thick as the words slowly leave my mouth. “I didn’t know you were taking his class.”
“I’m not,” she replies. “We met at the coffee shop on campus. He asked me out, and my dumbass said yes.”
“How long have you been seeing each other?”
Just Friends (Blue Beech) Page 19
