I moved slowly, tracking my prey, following the muffled rhythm echoing down the tunnel. The closer I got, the clearer it became. Flesh meeting flesh. A low voice—Dirks. A soft cry—hers.
My stomach twisted, heat slamming through my body.
I reached the top landing, back pressed to the wall, barely daring to breathe. I edged forward, enough to see.
There she was.
Dirks was holding Luna up, her tits out and flushed, bouncing softly with each thrust of Dirks’s hips. Her head was tipped back, hair loose, lips parted.
It wasn’t fucking. They wereconnected.
I was... nothing. They didn’t know I existed, yet I couldn’t look away.
It wasn’t jealousy. Not ofthem.
It was jealousy of what theygot to be.
Anger curled under my skin. I stood in the hallway like an idiot, pacing and hesitating and convincing myself this was about paperwork and Arthur and closure and nothing else, while they were up here, in some dark corner of my old goddamn stadium.
Fuck, I didn’t know what to do with any of it. The rage. The arousal. The grief.
I was hard as stone, my cock pressing painfully against my jeans like it couldn’t tell the difference between heartbreak and desire. My hand shook as I unzipped, pulling myself free, already leaking at the tip, already lost in the sight of her.
Because it wasn’t just that he was fucking her.
It was thatI wasn’t. And I didn’t deserve to be.
I wanted to be part of something again. I wanted to belong toheragain, or to whatever the hell the three of us used to be, or could have been, or still might be if I hadn’t broken everything we ever tried to hold.
“I d-don’t want her,” I whispered. “I don’t want back in.”
Lies.
“I simply need her to sign the goddamn papers.”
Bullshit.
I gripped tighter, stroking slow and rough as I watched her hips roll into his, watched her fingers dig into his shoulders, watched her lips move in some quiet whisper I’d never hear.
And Ihatedit.
Yet Iwantedit.
“Just the fucking papers,” I growled and came hard in my hand.
Alone and lying to myself . . . yet again.
I tucked myself in, smearing my fucking hands along the walls of the stadium that had built me. I didn’t need to see them like this. I didn’t need to see what they had and what I had thrown away.
I had to focus on the papers. Let them be happy. I was the fuckup in this situation, and I always would be. I knew where to find them, so I turned away. I turned away the moment Luna came. I’d come back with a bigger plan—a better one. I wasn’t going to let them win.
I needed money. I needed this whole situation cleaned up, and the least I could do was get my shit in order and not get pulled into the wreckage that was the three of us.
But fuck . . .
I was a contradiction with no home.
18
