Page 188 of Unleashed

As drunk as I am, I know the next move will change my friendship with Rhonda and my life’s trajectory and define my feelings for Simone. It’s a bell I can’t unring.

Chapter 29

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WITH MY HAND ON HER cheek, I tug her closer as I lean forward and kiss Rhonda. I don’t go around kissing women, but this past week, I’ve used it as a tool for distraction and validation. I tried blocking out Simone and convincing myself I could fall for Tansy. But it turned into a massive failure. The stakes are higher now since Rhonda is my friend. I don’t want to hurt her, but I’m not into Ronnie. Maybe I’m wrong about that, since I’m wrong about everything else.

As fucked up as I am right now, I know what the hell I’m doing. No, I’m not Hadley, looking for a replacement with Dash. I swear. Oh, shit.

Damn, though. I can only blame myself for the crushing pain in my chest. The alcohol alone isn’t helping me, so I need something stronger. Well, this is the one thing that will rock me to my goddamn core. Like Simone did the day I met her. Since then, she’s all over my body and in every ounce of my blood. Because of that, I’m trying to numb myself from how I don’t want to feel about Simone. I can’t trust my heart not to gaslight me since it’s betrayed me more than Simone ever did.

Maybe now I understand why Finn Wilder hated himself for dragging Hadley around, turning down her proposal, and then tongue-surfing an intern. Are you kidding me? I’m more fucked up than Wilder and Hadley combined.

Rhonda’s lips are soft, eager, and taste like rum. I pull back and hover over her lips as Rhonda inhales a lungful of air. She whispers something but stops. I fucking need her to ease the torture battering my chest. If it’s kissing, then cool. But I doubt that’s enough. Being the selfish dickhead I am right now, I kiss her again. Her small, muffled moans blast through any indecision I have for more.

Unfortunately, I lose my balance and lean too much into her, making her topple off the couch with a roll. Dazed, she sits up with a laugh. Undeterred, I drop to the floor, crawl over to Rhonda, and meet her face-to-face. Her smile disappears, and her blue eyes are glassy winter lakes in the cold sunlight. She whispers, “We can’t do this. I just don’t remember why.” Rhonda giggles and falls back. Her dark blonde hair sweeps over the marbled brown carpeting.

I lie next to Rhonda and roam my hand over her stomach, my fingers teasing along the hem of her sweatshirt. When she clutches my arms and darts her tongue into my mouth, I take that as encouragement and slide my hand to her tit. It’s hard to find her nipple through the layers of clothes, but I hit the jackpot because Rhonda moans louder against my lips.

I fumble my hand under her shirt but get stuck between her sweat shirt and tank top. Rhonda breaks from my lips and stops my hand from moving. In a second of sobriety, she says, “I’m not her.”

I bite my lip to keep myself in the present and not doubt anything, but I think of Simone riding more than Rhodes’s trust fund. I swallow before whispering, “I know who you are, Rhonda Bernard.”

Her eyes widen. “I’m sorry if I’m not good, Rod—Greg. I’m sorry. I’m a lot nervous and a little drunk.”

“I’m not some sex god, so bear with me as I screw up a screw. And call me whatever you want. If you want me to be Rod, I’ll be Rod. I don’t fucking care.” I’m that grateful for Rhonda, and she means no harm. Morgan slapped me with Dick Rod as a constant reminder that I’m only the lowly office jester. I get it that people are used to calling me Rod. But intent matters.

She shakes her head. “I’ve never orgasmed.”

I laugh. “Uh... Say what?”

“Never. I know. I’m thirty-one years old, and it’s my embarrassing reality. I don’t make myself do that, and I’ve only been with Archer and my abusive ex-husband.”

“Rhodes deflowered you?”

She nods. “I deflowered him right back.” Rhonda giggles before she tugs the front of my shirt. “I want you to give me my first.”

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