by Marni Mann
It should.
Because, if my world falls apart, it’ll be my fault. I’m the one who found the forums and websites. I’m the one who introduced Cannon and Tilly. And I’m the one who could lose both Cannon and West because of it.
West
As I stand outside my bedroom door, I end the call with Piper and keep my eyes on my sleeping wife. So, she found condoms in Cannon’s pocket. He was obviously working on someone this morning.
But is it Tilly?
I walk over to the bed and kneel down beside it. As I brush my hand over her forehead, she stirs. Just that small amount of movement sends me a whiff of her lotion. I slide my fingers across her face, and the hairs that frame it are wet. She wouldn’t smell this good after all those hours of sleep. And, unless she’s sweating, which she doesn’t appear to be, her hair wouldn’t be damp.
I lean into her face to kiss her cheek, and I’m within inches of her mouth when I smell her toothpaste.
The minty scent isn’t why I immediately pull back and stand, silently swearing at myself. I pull back because I almost kissed my wife with the mouth that was just on Piper’s cunt.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I should be more careful and certainly less disrespectful. It’s shitty enough that I cheated; I don’t have to rub it in her face, too.
But, by doing so, I now know my wife has showered and brushed her teeth. The part that doesn’t make sense is why she got back in bed. Does she just want more sleep, or is she trying to hide that she went out or had someone over?
The thought of another man inside her should piss me off. And there was a time in our relationship when it would have—the months she was carrying my son and a few ones that followed when we were both recovering.
But now?
The anger isn’t there. Neither is the jealousy.
Tilly needs constant attention. Without hockey taking up so much of my time, I should have plenty to give her. The need just isn’t there, especially since things with Piper started heating up.
Leaving the league and moving to Florida has only added more cracks in our marriage.
That isn’t her fault.
It isn’t mine either.
“Mmm,” she moans as I stand, finally opening her eyes. “What time is it?”
She’s so beautiful when she isn’t all done up. When her hair is messy from her pillow and there isn’t any makeup on her face and her tits fall naturally to the side instead of pushed together and so high on her chest. But, as soon as she gets out of bed, the softness will be gone. She’ll paint over it, and the coats get thicker as the years go on.
“It’s past eleven.”
I’ve spent two hours at Piper’s place.
If it were up to me, I’d be back there right now.
“I’m going to get in the shower,” I say as I walk toward the bathroom.
Because of her love of water, that’s one of her favorite places to fuck. A few weeks ago, I would have invited her in. I would have done to my wife what just went down with Piper.
But I can’t do that now.
I drop my clothes in the hamper and step inside the massive walk-in shower, placing my phone on one of the shelves inside where it won’t get wet. Jets squirt water from the walls, and a rainhead pours it from the ceiling. The pressure from both rubs away the soreness in my thighs and the tightness in my back. My body hurts from all those years of hockey.
Just as I’m covering my chest with soap, Tilly walks in and says, “Do you want me to scramble you some eggs before I go to the gym?”
Through the clear glass walls, I watch her move over to the mirror and put some makeup on her eyes. When her phone lights up, she smiles as she reads the screen.
“Nah, I’m good.”
Her grin grows as she types.
I just want her happy. If that means someone else—even Cannon—is causing that smile, then I’m good with it. She deserves someone who will give her everything she needs. I know I’ll never be that person. We both do. We just make it work because of how much we love to fuck each other. But even that has faded.
“What did you say?” she asks, looking over her shoulder at me. “You do want eggs?”
I run the suds down my stomach and around my balls. “I said, I’m good.”
She turns back around and puts some glossy shit on her lips while I scrub my beard. I hate that I’m washing Piper off me. I smelled her during my whole run home. I wish I could keep on smelling her all day.
“Hey,” she says, standing in the doorway, “did you ever get a chance to talk to Eddy?”
I shake my head. “He didn’t answer.”
“Maybe next week?”
“Yeah, maybe I’ll try again.”
She sticks her hand in the air and waves. “I’ll see you when I get home, baby.”
As she leaves, I turn around and face my back toward the water, pounding my fist against the tiled wall.
I’m not a goddamn liar, and I’m not a cheater.
I’ve just done both, and I hate myself for it.
I don’t regret what happened with Piper. Hell, I want it to happen again and again. I just wish I hadn’t gone behind my wife’s back.
But this morning proves one thing.
It’s over.
Now, it’s just a matter of when.
I wait a few minutes before I grab my phone off the shelf and type a text to Piper.
West: Something might have happened between them this morning.
Piper: Wow. Really? I don’t know how I feel about that.
I turn off the water and slip a towel around my waist.
West: You’re upset?
Piper: I’m a lot of things.
Of course she’s upset that her husband might have been secretly meeting up with my wife. Piper loves Cannon. Just because my relationship with Tilly isn’t typical doesn’t mean Piper’s marriage is anything like mine.
It just isn’t easy to console her. Not when we’re talking about her husband, and I came inside her pussy less than an hour ago.
West: Tell me what you want me to do.
Piper: Can you meet me? Just to talk?
West: Text me where, and I’ll be there.
Piper
There’s a good chance Cannon won’t be home for hours, but considering how close we came to getting caught, having West meet me here at the house again would be too risky, probably even stupid.
Piper: Meet me at the park by the fountain.
West: Be there in twenty.
After I fix my hair, I throw on a pair of shorts and a top and get in the car. I could make it to the park in five minutes if I left the development and turned right. The car automatically veers left, toward the courthouse.
Traffic’s light, and I know I have more than enough time to swing by the courthouse before West shows up at the park. On the way there, I pass Cannon’s office. The lot’s nearly empty, and his story starts to add up. They’re in court today.
But, when I pull onto the street in front of the courthouse, I start searching for Cannon’s car. He’s not parked along the street at a meter and not in either of the two lots; the only place left is the parking garage a block over.
It takes me a minute to get through two sets of traffic lights, and when I do, I take a ticket from the attendant and start circling around the levels. Every fifth car seems to be a black Mercedes, so I move at a snail’s pace, all while trying to blend in.
When I get to the rooftop and haven’t spotted the car, I loop back through and try again, assuming I missed it. But my gut tells me I haven’t. Cannon has a sticker on the back windshield—an autism awareness lightbulb one of my students slapped on at the fundraising walk last year.
That sticker isn’t on a single window of any of these cars.
I have no idea where my husband is or why he lied about coming here. His entire morning was fabricated, and the only connection that makes sense is Tilly. He’s just doing a shitty job of covering it up.
/> By the time I get to the park, I’m confused, and my head is spinning. Where did Cannon go after he left the house? Why isn’t he at the courthouse, like he said he would be? And what is going on between him and Tilly?
West is waiting for me on a bench tucked next to a shady tree. The second I see him, I’m comforted even though my heart beats double time from that smile.
He stands and pulls me into his arms. He kisses my neck and then buries his face in my hair. We hold each other, neither of us saying anything. All I know is that, today, his arms feel like home.
“I drove by the courthouse. Cannon’s not there.”
“You’re sure he said he was going there?” he asks as we sit down on the bench.
“That’s why he said he had to change. And I have the condoms, West. Unless Tilly was at work with him, he never went to the office.”
West takes my hand and runs his thumb across my palm. “I’m sorry, Piper.”
I lift my head and stare into his eyes. He means it; he is sorry, but he has nothing to apologize for.
“We’re doing the same thing they are—sneaking around and having sex. If anything, it’s Karma.”
“You love him,” he says, “so it hurts.”
“Yet I’m sitting here with you, holding your hand. I barely recognize my own life anymore.”
Instead of letting go of me, he holds on tighter. He gives me exactly what I need—the reassurance that he wants me, too. That these feelings I have aren’t all in my head.
“Do you regret us?” he asks. “I never wanted to mess up your marriage.”
Regret.
I started swinging to figure out our missing pieces. I wanted to know why I was in a marriage with a man I loved and still felt so alone. Why I woke up every morning, wondering why we’re so disconnected and what could bring us back together.
Never in a million years did I think swinging would hurt in the best way imaginable. That I could get so lost in another man and then go home to my husband. I didn’t realize how much I needed West until I thought about the girl I’d be without him—the girl I had been before I met him.
Lost.
Sad.
Lonely.
“West, I could never regret you. In such a short amount of time, you’ve shown me what it’s like to be someone’s priority. Every smile. Every kiss. Each touch. You have no idea how much they mean to me.”
“You don’t have that with Cannon?”
“Cannon’s changed so much. Over the years, he’s tried to make me happy, but when I look at him, I don’t get lost. I just feel lost.”
“And when you look at me?”
“I can’t remember my own name.”
My lip quivers, and West pulls me into his lap. I rest my head against his chest and close my eyes. It’s my favorite place to be, listening to his heartbeat.
“We’ll figure this out,” he says. “We just need some more time. I think it’ll sort itself out.”
“How can you be so sure? Aren’t you worried about Tilly?”
“I don’t think they’re trying to sneak around or hurt us. I think, if Cannon was with Tilly this morning, they’re just hungry for the same thing we are.”
I can see that. Once you get a taste, it’s hard to go without, especially when you feel so much so quickly.
“Okay.”
“But don’t worry; if and when the time comes, we’ll address it. For now, I think we just concentrate on each other.”
My phone pings with a notification, and I expect it to be Cannon. The email is from the school district, and I sit up so fast, I almost fall off West’s lap. He grabs me by the waist and keeps me close as I read the offer, barely able to believe what I’m seeing.
Tears trickle down my cheeks when I realize I’m going to get my job back. That my kids won’t have to adjust to someone new.
“What is it, Piper?”
“My job,” I tell him. “I didn’t think there was any way, but it’s mine again.”
“Look at me,” he says.
I’m smiling and crying at the same time, and when his lips find mine, I kiss him with everything I have. My personal life might be a total mindfuck right now, but this fall, when all the other teachers are prepping their classrooms and working on lesson plans, I’ll be doing the same.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I don’t mean to rub it in. I know you’re struggling.”
“You’re not rubbing it in. I’m happy for you.”
“Do you think you’ll go back to work? You went to college, right? I don’t even know what you majored in.”
“Communications,” he says. “With a minor in business.”
“Fancy.”
“Nah, I just knew I wouldn’t be playing forever. Had to set myself up with something I wouldn’t hate. Both degrees give me a ton of options.”
“Any you want to consider yet?”
He probably has enough money to retire and never work another day in his life, but that doesn’t seem like the kind of man he is. He’s ambitious and antsy, just like me.
“I’m actually talking to someone. A couple of broadcasting opportunities are out there, but I haven’t taken them too seriously yet.”
“That sounds exciting.”
“Yeah.”
“Are they local?” I blush when I ask him. Mostly because it would break my heart if he took a job clear across the country, so I wouldn’t get to see him. I already know I’ll struggle once I go back to teaching. I’m so used to our morning routine, it’ll be weird, not meeting on the beach first thing each day.
West reads me like a book and smirks. “Don’t worry; we can still fuck on your lunch breaks. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You and that mouth. So direct.”
He leans into me and nibbles on my neck. “I’ll fuck you right here, Piper. Don’t challenge me when it comes to your pussy.”
Nobody was near us when I sat down, but I still glance over my shoulder to make sure someone isn’t feeding the ducks within earshot. This only makes West laugh harder. He loves when I squirm.
“I should probably get going.”
“First, you need to message Tilly, and get something set up for tonight.”
“You want more?” I ask him.
“I’ll be gentle this time,” he says. “Nothing like earlier.”
I liked earlier. No, I loved earlier.
“I’ll message her now.”
He watches me type, and then we stand up. He walks me to my car, and only then does he lean down and press his lips to mine. Anyone could see us. Cannon or Tilly could drive by the park, leaving little room for us to explain.
It doesn’t matter. Nothing could stop us now.
“I’ll see you tonight.”
“Tonight,” I tell him as I slide into the driver’s seat.
After I back out of the parking space, I watch him in the rearview mirror until I pull onto the main road.
What started out as a terrible day full of secrets has turned into one full of hope. I have my job back, and I’ll see West again tonight. The only thing I have to figure out is Cannon. Because, for the first time since we started swinging, I feel like I know my lover better than my husband.
West
When I return from the park, I go straight into my office and sit behind the desk. While waiting for my email to load, I replay the conversation I had with Piper. Her feelings for me go deeper than sex; they touch her beyond her skin. My smiles, the way I kiss her—it all affects her.
And she affects me.
At some point, we won’t want to sneak around anymore. The swinging meetups won’t be enough. We’ll want more time together, and something will have to be done.
I have to get my mind ready for that because it could be happening soon.
But, right now, over a hundred new emails are filling my screen, and I quickly scan them to see if there are any new ones from Jesse. Surprisingly, there aren’t, but he sent plenty over the last several weeks. I haven’t read a
ny of his. I just stuck them into a folder, so I wouldn’t have to see them every time I checked my email.
But it’s time that I at least look at his messages.
I click on the folder and read the subject of each email, which says the position that’s being offered. The first couple don’t sound interesting at all. I don’t want to coach. I spent my entire professional career on the road. That isn’t to say I won’t travel, but the thought of flying out every few days and being home so little sounds like hell.
The motivational-speaking gigs don’t interest me either. I don’t want to be the guy who stands at a podium and preaches about how to find your passion. Who the fuck am I to give that kind of advice? We’re all born to do something. Mine was hockey.
But, after my chat with Eddy, I know there has to be something else out there for me. I just have to find it and make sure it feels right.
I stop scrolling through the messages when I come to the commentating positions, and I read the list of networks that are all interested in me.
From my time in the league, I know how these kinds of jobs work. I could be based anywhere I wanted, even Florida. I’d just travel to wherever the game was. My contract would set how many games I would have to attend and which ones, how they would fly me there, if it was regular season or playoffs, too.
I would be talking about what I love on live television. I’d be giving my opinion from all my years of experience. I’d be working with experts in the industry—retired coaches, analysts, and players.
I’d be as close to the ice as I could get.
All five networks have offered me a position. The salaries are much higher than I anticipated, and Jesse’s notes say they’re negotiable. Private planes are mentioned. Five-star hotels are promised. Benefits are guaranteed.
I have options.
And, for the first time in weeks, something about hockey finally excites me.
I hear a knock and look up from the computer screen.
Tilly is standing in the open doorway, her face a little red and sweaty, her hair tied on top of her head, much wetter than it was this morning. “You up for fucking Piper tonight?”
If she only knew how up for it I was.
