I let out a soft laugh as I tilt back the last of the drink, the ice still unmelted. I mean, can you imagine it? Me doing anything serious?
Sleeping with—ah, who are we kidding, fucking—a gorgeous man with children? On multiple occasions? What the fuck was I thinking?
Chapter Sixteen
Roly
Oooh, I was not looking cute when I woke up this morning—I really paid for that third tumbler of vodka. I forced myself out of bed and got to the gym early to get leg day out of the way. Frankly, I needed the distraction. It was a good plan, but halfway through my squats I got a message from Heath, and I couldn’t tell if I wanted to cry or throw up or go find Jordan and see if a hookup with that couple is still in the cards.
SexyPapaBear:Let’s not do this anymore.
I finish my set in a blur, completely unaware of my surroundings, a dull headache settling in between my eyebrows.
At the sound of my name, I look up and Evie is waving at me. “Roly! I’ve been trying to get your attention for like the last five minutes. Where’d you go?”
I shake my head and smile wryly. “Oh, nowhere. Just… got things on my mind.”
She bites her lip, which is a shame because the cherry-red lipstick that she’s rocking will get smeared if she keeps doing that. “I was about to ask you if you have the latest projections on the shop, but maybe you’ve not had a chance to get to it yet.”
I shake myself out of my stupor and shoot her a look. “Of course I have it ready. Have I ever been late with anything before?”
Evie reaches out and gently grabs my arm. “No, of course not. I didn’t mean to indicate that you aren’t on top of things. You’re always in the middle of things, always busy. It’s just that I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite so zoned out. Is everything okay?”
She and I have worked together for far too long, and trust each other way too much for the fake smile I’d desperately like to give her. She’d read it on me in a second and then interrogate me until I spilled the goods anyway.
“Is it Heath?”
I feel like my eyes are gonna bulge out of my head. “Oh my god, are you a witch? Andshush, we’re surrounded by people!”
She rolls her eyes and gestures to the back door. “No one’s upstairs. Catch me up.”
My shoulders slump and my head gets fuzzy as we walk outside and up the stairs that lead to the office. Once the door is closed, I turn to her, a little sad, a little relieved.
“How did you know?”
Evie looks at me like I might be a tiny bit stupid, then rolls her eyes, gesturing for us to sit on the comfy couches across from one another. “Sweetie, the first thing anybody learns about Roly is that Roly likes bears. Secondly, as soon as Heath started hanging around, you started perking up, big-time. Spill, I need the details.”
I don’t want to give the details. I feel like I’ll become incoherent within seconds, especially with Evie on the listening end. I’d be a blubbering, nonsensical mess, and I don’t want anyone to see me get like that over a guy. But Evie’s kind, steady look is undeniable, patient. She’ll sit here until I can find the words.
On a dramatic sigh, I pull up his message and hand it over to her.
She takes my phone and reads the words quickly, confusion knitting her brows. Before I can do anything to stop her, she flicks her finger up, reading the previous messages, and her mouth falls open. Just as quickly she snaps her mouth closed, then drags the ottoman in front of her, propping her feet up.
“I have questions.”
She puts a pillow on her lap and points to it in a way that would seem lascivious if we were entirely different people. No protest left in me, I sit next to her and lay my head on the pillow in her lap, and let that familiar, warm coconut scent of hers surround me, letting myself be comforted by my friend. She silently runs a light hand up and down my arm, and I’m grateful to be facing away from her so that she doesn’t see the tears, which began before my head hit the pillow.
Her deep, rhythmic breathing settles me, and after several minutes the tears slow. “My sweet, sweet Roly-man, why would you ever ask to be hate-banged?”
I snort as I wipe my eyes. Evie doesn’t use foul language when she can help it, which is hilarious because some of her substitutions are almost as bad as the real thing, and all of them make me laugh. “Well, we’d already had two spectacular ‘hate-bang’ encounters, and I thought I’d ask for another. You know I like it rough.”
She makes a disagreeing noise. “You like it rough in that you want someone strong who can take you there, but you don’t want to be hurt.”
I stay quiet.
“Oookay, but if he hates you and is banging you rough… how can you trust him to not go too far? To hurt you in a way that you didn’t want to be hurt?”
My laugh sounds suspiciously like a sob. “He hates me, but I swear, even when I feel like he’s giving me brain damage from the pounding he’s giving me, it’s like he’s still taking care of me. He fucks me hard because that’s how I want it, not necessarily because that’s how he’d prefer to go at it.”
