Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
I sniffled and headed over to the kitchen.
Jake followed me there and took charge. He grabbed me by my wrist and turned on the water to the coldest setting. “Whatever you think happened between Greer and me—dial it down. We’ve been talking. I reached out to him a couple months ago because I’m trying to come out. Okay? He’s been helping me.”
I winced as the cold water hit my hand. It felt too soon—it was gonna be hours before it swelled up if I’d fractured anything, which I didn’t think I had. But I’d scraped my knuckles pretty bad, and the water wasn’t a nice feeling.
Neither was the fact that he’d turned to Greer for what I wished he’d come to me for…at the same time as I reluctantly understood. I’d been swamped with my own shit.
“You didn’t hook up?” I muttered.
He opened his mouth, only to close it, then sigh.
Fuck.
They had.
“It’s not as bad as you think—and for the record, welcome to my life.” He was annoyed as shit, yet he worked my hand gently, aiming the cold water over my scrapes. “How do you think it’s been for me the past three years when you’ve gone home to Sandra every night? Huh? It’s fucking deranged I gotta stand here and make excuses for whatever I do with Greer. He’s single, I’m single—you’re fucking not.” He gave me a pointed look.
I averted my stare.
I knew I was a douchebag. No need for reminders.
They hadn’t fucked. Jake had never once given me a bottom vibe, and I knew for a fact Greer wasn’t one.
Jake sighed again. He was good at that when I tested his patience. “We made out and got each other off.”
I quickly withdrew my hand as those images seared themselves into my skull, and if I didn’t get out of here right now, I was gonna punch something else.
Made out and…
Get the fuck outta here.
“Roe.”
“I’m out.” I headed for the door, teeth gnashed, and—
I didn’t get far before Jake was grabbing my arm.
He was livid. The glare he gave me sent all my rage into hiding, and I widened my eyes in sheer shock. A second later, he shoved me up against a wall and caged me in. A cold chill ran down my spine.
“That’s me. Let’s talk about you now.” He spoke in an eerily calm, low tone. “Do you think about me whenever you stick your cock in your wife?”
I sucked in a quick breath, his words registering like a backhand and a heat wave all at once. “It’s cute you think I have a sex life at all.”
He smirked sardonically. “I don’t think Adam and Callie are the products of immaculate conception.”
“Yeah, but that’s about all,” I shot back. Jesus Christ, we were fucking sick. My gut churned with jealousy and longing—and need and love and agony and…and did I mention jealousy?
Despite Jake obviously being fed up with my bullshit, I didn’t once try to push him away. We were standing so close to each other that our chests almost touched, and that was all that counted. That’s how sick I was.
I wanted him closer and closer—even when I was too chickenshit to reach out and grab him. I balled my hands into fists, which fucking hurt in my right hand, and I kept them to myself.
Jake’s jaw ticked with tension, and he dropped his gaze to my mouth.
Nerves fluttered within me, and I searched far and wide for my resolve, finding it nowhere. I couldn’t fight anymore. I couldn’t fight him. I was too weak—and it wasn’t just related to this very moment. It was my whole future. Did I even have one? Because it felt more and more like a black hole that was gonna suck the life out of me.
Jake was the man I wanted to come home to at the end of the day. Hell, scratch that, because we were supposed to go home together.
If this past year had shown me anything, it was that I had two choices. Either I kept my word—or whatever was left of it—to Sandra and spent the rest of my days a miserable man who only found solace in being a full-time dad. Or…I divorced Sandra and joined the long line of parents who saw their kids every other week, and maybe, just maybe, Jake and I could find happiness together.
I let out an unsteady breath and reached up, brushing my fingers along his jaw.
He closed his eyes and rested his forehead to mine.
“I don’t wanna be good anymore,” I admitted. “I can’t.”
Tension loosened in his shoulders, and he pressed his body against mine. “You’re always good, Roe.”
I shook my head. I wasn’t, but it didn’t matter. I chose him. I chose Jake.
I closed the last distance between us and brushed my lips to his. “Cancel your date, please.”