“I mean, you said he was getting divorced. Did you know his wife?” I ask her, against my better judgment. It’s been four days since he’s been over to my house. Four days since I’ve seen him. Four days since I sent the last text. Sure, he’s been away for a hockey game, but he’s had access to a phone, and he hasn’t texted me. I don’t even know why I’m so bothered by this, but after four days, I am. The first day I was like, good. Then I got home and when I slipped into bed, I smelled him on my sheets. So I made a mental note to change them the next day, which I didn’t do because I said I was too tired, but maybe there’s something I’m not ready to admit. Either way, it’s been four fucking days.
“I met her briefly,” she shares, “before he caught her in their bed fucking his brother-in-law.” The gasp that escapes me is so loud I’m sure everyone in California heard me.
I slap the side of the couch. “Stop it; you’re lying.”
“I am not.” She shakes her head. “He went home early one day, walked in, found them in his bed. Guy was bone in.” My mouth hangs open while I shake my head side to side. “He turned and walked right back out. Never went back to the house. Checked into a hotel. Called a lawyer. Filed for divorce.”
“Since they’ve broken up, I’ve gotten to know him more because he’s with Jaxon and Kirby all the time. Why do you ask?”
“No reason.” I look back down at the folder in my hand but it’s empty, so I have to look back up at her.
“There is a reason.” She leans forward, putting the sheets on the table in front of her.
“I may have—” I start to say. “Perhaps—” I hold up one hand, moving it side to side. “Slept with him a couple of weeks ago.” If I thought my gasp was loud before, Lexi has me beat.
“Shut up!” she shrieks so loud she has to put her hand in front of her mouth.
“And then again another time,” I roll my finger, “and then one more time after that.”
“Three times?” She holds up her hand with three fingers pointed up.
“Well, the first time was—I don’t even think we can call it a first time.” My stomach gets tight and the back of my neck even starts to heat. “It was like a wham-bam in the car.”
“You had sex in a car? With Knox?” She is in total shock about this.
“It wasn’t my fault.” I point at me. “He was being all jerky and then boom—combustion.” She just stares at me, blinking a couple of times. “Then he came back to return the panties I forgot in his SUV.”
“And obviously you had sex again.”
“Well, to be fair,” I start to say, “I technically wanted to see if it was as good as I thought it was in the car.”
“Well, obviously.” She rolls her eyes at me.
“Then he was a dick and said something that I’m not going to ever repeat, but he said it. Then I know I said something I shouldn’t have said to him too,” I admit after hearing what his wife did to him. “So he came by with coffee to say he was sorry.”
“And again, you fell into bed.”
“Well, not the first time. That was on the couch but then after the bathroom, it was the bed.”
“Hold on.” She holds up her hand. “You had sex with him for the first time weeks ago, and you are just now telling me?” She puts the hand she was holding up to her chest as if she is hurt.
“Again,” I inhale, “I think we said we weren’t going to say anything. Or maybe I just assumed no one would.” I swallow.
“Do you think he told Kirby?” she asks me, and I sit up straight, unfolding my legs from the couch.
“I don’t,” I start to say. “If he told Kirby, wouldn’t Kirby call me?” I ask her. “At the very least, he would for sure tell you.” I point at her.
“Yeah, I think so,” she says, “or he may be too stunned to speak.”
“Listen, it’s fine. It’s just sex between two consenting adults.” I trail off.
“How was it?” she questions and I roll my lips. “Actually, don’t tell me. I have to be around him, and I won’t be able tolook at him without having it in my head. With Jaxon, it took me a full month before I could look him in the eye after Ariella told me about their sex life.”
“I won’t say anything,” I get up, “but I will say, the man is packing, and he knows what to do with said package.”
She leans back in her chair and groans, putting her hands over her face. “Now I’m automatically going to look at his package when I see him next.” She shakes her head. “What if Kirby catches me?”
“Then don’t do it,” I reply, picking up the papers from the desk. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to email him to ask him when payment will be made.” I stop, looking over at her and hoping she’ll do it. “Or?—”
