“King—”
“And then there’s the way that skirt swishes,” he continues. “The way it shows just enough and hints at your sexy thighs, your ass, and that pussy that are all hidden underneath material that is meant to be sweet, but all it does is make me hard for you.”
His words are not the flowery affirmations of love that I hoped he would share but also always knew he wouldn’t. They also turn me on, and that only makes me mad.
“So it’s my fault your dick is hard?” I snap. I shouldn’t, I know, but his words leave something to be desired, even if they are hot.
“No,” he says and runs his hand through his hair. It’s a small sign of his agitation. “Fuck. I don’t know what to say.”
“Why don’t you try the truth?”
“Texas always messes me up,” he admits. “And I don’t know what to say or how to act.”
“Why?”
“This is where Mae is.”
“Who’s Mae?” I ask, and again, I wish I could recall the words as soon as they’re out of my mouth, because by the pained look on his face, I know without a doubt that I do not want the answer.
“My wife,” he says, and the air is sucked from my lungs. “I should go.”
King walks away, leaving me standing there in the middle of the dance floor like an asshole while he makes his way through the bar.
My face burns with my humiliation. This is what Eric and Manny knew the whole time. This was the sad but knowing look on Marisol’s face when I told her that he wasn’t mine to keep. They knew. They all knew I was giving him my body every night, letting him into my life, falling for his not-so-honeyed words and the orgasms he gave me, and as spectacular as they were, it doesn’t change the fact that the entire time, he was married and just fucking the client.
And they all knew.
It’s like something snaps within me, that last shred of me finally breaking, and I am done. How dare he announce to me that he’s married but he can’t stay away? I don’t care how messed up being here with me, in the state that she lives in, messes him up. He’s messed me up, and that shit is not right.
I see red. And then I follow him through the bar. I shove between people and don’t even utter an apology as I race to catch up with him. He wants to go lick his wounds. Hell, maybe he wants to go to her, and that’s fine. That’s great. Because he and I are done. But he’s not leaving here until I get a few things off my chest first.
He’s almost to his SUV when I push through the door of the bar. The moon is high and full in the clear Texas sky, and it gives ample light for me to see his slumped shoulders and agitated movements, but fuck him.
“King!” I shout. “King! You stop right fucking there.”
“Go back inside, Adrienne,” he calls without turning back to face me.
Excuse me? No fucking way.
“No!” I yell as I gain on him, and he turns to face me just in time for me to collide with him. He doesn’t even step back with my impact; he just absorbs my weight into him, and I hate it. I fucking hate it. And I hate him. “All this time, you’ve been pulling me in and taking, taking, taking from me, while never giving anything. And the whole fucking time, you’ve been married?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you get it?” I scream as I pound his chest. “Don’t you know everything about me, King? That my dad cheated on my mom and broke up our family? That cheating is the one thing I can’t stand? The one thing that would hurt me more than anything else?”
“What do you want me to say to you right now, Adrienne?” He pushes his hand through his hair again, and I don’t care that he’s upset right now. I’m furious.
“You used me to cheat on your wife, King. Were you so desperate to get your dick wet that you just fell into my bed?” I shout. When he doesn’t say anything, just stands there staring at me, I lose it. “Well fuck you, and fuck her.”
“Don’t talk about her like that,” he warns, his voice low and menacing, but I do not give one fuck. There is nothing he could to me that would hurt me more than he already has.
“Oh yeah?” I bite out. “Why?”
“Because she’s dead,” he says, and my teeth snap shut, my heart instantly breaking.
I was wrong.
Icouldhurt more, just not for me—for him.
