Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Oh my God. The public embarrassment,” I find myself saying.
“I was getting talk show and podcast hosts asking me for interviews. What the fuck even is that? Why would they think I’d want them to exploit my situation that way?” Donovan grumbles.
“No shit,” Anthony replies.
“Try being a meme. I couldn’t get online without seeing You Got Hayesed.”
Donovan nods. “That’s harsh.”
I settle into my seat, my back feeling looser.
“Did anyone have guys seek them out on hookup apps?” Anthony asks. “The first time, I didn’t realize what was happening. I met up with this guy, and apparently, he’s got a kink about fucking us. I realized when he started asking me about Malcolm, if his dick was bigger, if I’d met you guys, and if so, if I thought you’d all be down with some kind of Jilted orgy. I got the hell out of there, but I had other weirdos wanting to show me what I was missing—their words, not mine.”
“I’ve avoided apps,” Donovan says. “That’s where I met Malcolm, and I don’t want anything to do with them again.” Apps Malcolm told me he didn’t use. The mood gets heavy for a moment, before Donovan continues, “But your orgy guy wouldn’t have had to try hard to be better than Malcolm in bed.”
I perk up at that, silently thankful I hadn’t been the reason that sex with Malcolm hadn’t been great. Considering my experience, I thought something was wrong with me, but now that I’ve been with Rylan…no. And why does everything keep going back to him?
Anthony takes a drink of his beer. “So fucking bad. I must admit, he had a great cock, but he didn’t know what to do with it.”
“That’s it exactly.” Donovan points to Anthony. “And I’m not sure about you guys, but according to Malcolm, it was always my fault.”
My head snaps in his direction. Malcolm had been the same with them as he’d been with me. He’d made me feel like anything that went wrong was on me, never him. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, but a part of me that maybe still believes all those things Malcolm told me, that part needed to know I wasn’t alone. And while one conversation can’t change all the engrained thoughts, it does help. “Me too,” I finally make myself admit.
They both look at me with kind eyes. It’s clear I’m the one of the three of us who keeps my feelings close to my chest. I don’t know how to laugh and joke about our situation the way they do. I wish I were different about these things, but it’s just not how I’m built.
“We’re better than him,” Donovan says.
“I second that,” Anthony adds.
Donovan holds up his wineglass. “To the Jilted Exes’ Club.”
I lift my bottle of water, Anthony doing the same with his beer. The three of us clink them together, Anthony and I repeating Donovan’s cheers.
And the truth is, I’m glad I came. Maybe, just maybe, this won’t be so bad after all.
*
There’s a lightness to my step when I leave Donovan’s house a couple of hours later. It’s after eight, and I can’t believe I stayed so long. The plan had been to hang out for about an hour and then make my excuses and go home. I didn’t expect the three of us to have much to talk about outside of Malcolm, but we had. The conversation about our mutual ex had ended with that toast, and then we’d just…talked…and hung out.
Surprisingly, I hadn’t hated it, but now I’m feeling too jittery to go home or lose myself to work the way I usually do.
I should head home and get a good night’s rest. It’s not as if I’m mister social calendar and have a whole lot of options, but…I could always call Rylan. Can I call Rylan? I’m physically capable, but I also have this block in my brain that sometimes doesn’t let me do the things I want to do, which means, oh my God, I want to call Rylan.
Maybe I’m just bored. That’s what I’m going with.
I pull my cell out of my pocket, momentarily disappointed that he hasn’t called or texted. It would be a whole lot easier if I was the one returning his call rather than the one to initiate contact. It’s a mess in my head, and I feel sorry for anyone who has to deal with me.
Rylan shouldn’t have to deal with me.
Still, I find his annoying name and press it.
“Hey. How did it go with your…friends? I’m not sure what to call them. I’ve been thinking about it all evening. I wanted to message but didn’t want to bother you.”
My pulse does this weird thing where it suddenly picks up really fast. I tell myself it’s like a jump scare and nothing more. Look at me feeling all strange because a hot guy is nice to me, and that is a little frightening and confusing.