I laughed. “And you call me the romantic.”
Jake shrugged and ran a hand over his mussed brown hair, which was wet at his forehead with sweat. “It’s all your fault.”
“I’ll happily take the blame.” I pressed my nose to his chin and closed my eyes, enjoying the smell of sex on his skin.
“We should shower,” Jake whispered.
“Nap first.”
He chuckled quietly. “Okay.”
The next day,after Jake had gone to work, I stared at my phone and the name there: YourBoiFriend. The ASMR guy. The channel on YouTube definitely belonged to him, but I didn’t know if I had the courage to ask him about what I wanted. Jake loved him, though, loved his voice, and while YourBoiFriend already spiced up our sex life, I wondered how much more fantastic it would be with him actually in the room. I had the money to burn, and it would be the perfect anniversary present for Jake.
Fuck it.
I glanced at the clock. I had to be at practice in half an hour and didn’t have the time to waste. The worst he could do was say no or ignore me. I tapped on the phone furiously, typing out an email to YourBoiFriend.
Hey man.
My name is Declan. I got a weird request. I’m married to the best man I know. He loves your voice. We listen to you while we’re having sex. It’s our anniversary next week, and I want to give him a present he won’t forget. I got a proposition for you. You, in the bedroom, talking while we have sex. I know, you’re not a porn star or anything, but I’d pay you well. Let me know your price.
I nodded and pressed Send before I grabbed my hockey gear and headed out the back door to the work garage where we stored my Jeep while I was away. I would wait a few days to see if he responded, and if he didn’t, I would find something else for Jake.
4
Logan
My brother,Titus, crossed his thick tattooed arms over his chest and stared down his narrow nose at me. His copper hair, the same color as mine, stuck up in the back like maybe he’d been doing something I didn’t want to think too much about before I’d knocked on the door. He’d been a football player in high school and college, and he still looked like he should be one, instead of an insurance salesman at a car dealership.
“Your glasses are crooked,” I mumbled miserably, and he straightened them with his middle finger, pushing them up his nose. Yeah, I’d definitely interrupted his afternoon fun time.
“Miranda called Connie and told her you stole stuff when you left. She said you killed her fish?” He lifted one hand in awhat the hellgesture, and it lit a fire in me that wanted to rage out of control.
“That was my fish, and she killed it! Not me!” I groaned. “I did nothing to her.” Anger had me grinding my teeth for a second, but it sent pain zipping into my jaw, so I stopped. “You’remybrother.”
“And Connie and Miranda are best friends. Do you know what that shit means to chicks? Connie told me it’s a mystical connection, and I do not fuck with that.” He finally let his arms drop. I tried to walk in. The bastard didn’t move aside, only braced his hands on the doorframe and loomed in my direction, judgement plain on his face. “I told you that chick is psycho,” he whispered, all the while glancing over his shoulder so he wouldn’t be caught out by his girlfriend. “I don’t want the drama here.”
“I didn’t do anything. She was hitting me and shit.” I hitched my computer bag higher on my shoulder. My left hand began to hurt from holding the handle of my duffel bag so hard.
Titus rolled his eyes. “And I’m sure that really hurt. She’s a teeny-tiny little woman.”
My face felt hot. I wiped the back of my hand over my cheek and it tingled like ice. It was fucking cold out, and Titus didn’t seem like he gave a shit. Snow whipped onto the porch and stung my eyes for a second. I shivered, even inside my winter coat. “Are you seriously not going to help me?”
“Dude, it’s not worth the shitstorm. I like fucking my girlfriend, thanks, and she would not spread those thick thighs for me for the nexteverif I allowed you into this house right now.” He lifted his eyebrows as if he was willing me to understand, and I did, but fuck him.
“Dude!” I kicked my suitcase, which sat on the porch in front of me, for emphasis.
“Go to Mom and Dad’s.” He shrugged like he didn’t give a damn, and maybe he didn’t.
Anxiously I stared at him, but when I found no sympathy, I hung my head in exhaustion. “Miranda already called them. Mom wouldn’t even open the door. I have no idea what the hell she’s telling everyone, but I really didn’t do anything. Nothing. Promise.”
Titus gripped my shoulder and shook it. “Go apologize to her. Tell her you’re sorry so she lets you back in. Whatever you did, just apologize.”
My stomach cramped. I’d felt bad as I was packing my stuff this morning while Miranda glared at me with the bathroom garbage can in her arms because she was hungover, last night’s makeup unapologetically smeared in ways I was sure meant she’d fucked someone else.
It had happened before—the cheating—and I’d forgiven her. This was a vicious cycle. Really, I had just pretended not to notice when she came back looking bang-wrecked in the past, because shit happened… no one was perfect… and I…. Well, I’d thought I loved her near the beginning. Now I wasn’t sure how I felt, excepttired. Misunderstood. Betrayed.
“You just said it yourself. She’s nuts, and you think I should go back?” I hated how my voice cracked. I was so fucking through with this conversation.
