Page 66 of Unleashed

Simone’s bitter laugh matches the look on her face. “Oh, and don’t forget how we now have to tell all our coworkers that we’re married, just in case my dad shows up at the field and questions them. He’d totally do that shit.”

“Send him to a strip joint. He needs a lap dance or a hand job.” So do I.

“Eww!” Simone shrieks. “Just shut up! Where are you supposed to sleep? Not with me!”

“Like I want to have sex with you? Hilarious. God knows who’s been up your cooch this past month.” Simone storms into the bathroom, and I follow.

“Not you.”

“You got that right.” Frustrated, Simone leaves the bathroom, and I follow again. When I glance at her pink bed, I say, “I’ll stay on my side. You stay on yours.”

She whirls around, swinging her blonde hair over her shoulder. Again, she’s not looking me in the eye, which is a damn shame, since it’s easier to tell when she’s lying. “All of it is my side. Don’t you think you screwed me enough by showing up here? You can sleep on the floor.”

“No way.”

Simone rolls her eyes and glances at my hand. “You even wore that ring?” She wrinkles her nose, but her gaze moves to the wall, cringing.

“Gotta play the part.” I squeeze my fist, missing and hating the feel of the metal on my finger. Vaughn made it difficult for me to find because he’s never been a fan of Simone and me faking a marriage. He sure complained about our noises when we weren’t.

“No, you don’t!” She grits her teeth and waves her fists, punching nothing. “My dad’s staying for a week, and then you’re fucking gone.”

I aim my thumb toward the door. “That motherfucker is staying a week?”

Her blue eyes flash to me in her dresser’s mirror and then fall to my chest. “Yep. And throw Finn Wilder at me again with the dare shit, and I’ll pretzel your junk.”

“You just want to grab my dick.” I laugh but want to beg her to do that. God. I’d give anything for her to go down on me right now. I point with both index fingers toward my crotch. “Come and get it.”

She sneers, “I get plenty of dick.”

That hurts, but I laugh. “And every known disease.”

Simone flips me off as she yanks her phone from her pocket. I bitch, “Do we need to go out? Can’t we just pretend to have sex up here? Maybe he’ll leave.”

Simone’s jaw clenches as she continues her texting crusade to gather friends for a lame night. I don’t feel like asking Ferrera to come with us, but if I don’t, I’ll have to hang out with Wilder alone. I’ll sooner beg for rabies.

I nod toward the window overlooking the driveway. “I brought clothes. They’re in the car. You know I have to stay here now.” She shakes her head without looking up, and I laugh because screaming won’t help. “I can’t stay at Amos’s, anyway. His friend—some douche named Fernando, has been staying. I think his friend is his boyfriend. I told everyone that dickweed was gay, but nobody listened.”

She mutters, “Everyone knew. You just don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself.”

“What the fuck? I do, but I mean... It’s Vaughn. I can’t deal with that. And If I see him kiss someone, be it a person or a garbage can, I’ll rip out my eyes and eat them. I can’t even say the guy’s name without breaking into the goddamn ABBA song.”

When she doesn’t comment and only has eyes for her phone, I ask, “Can you wrap it up? We’ll need to swing by Vaughn’s so I can change and grab more clothes since I’m staying a week now.”

Not answering me, she finishes texting, tosses her phone on the bed, and zips over to her closet.

I push off the wall and cross my arms as I stand in front of the mirror. I look like shit, still wearing the ripped blue jeans and T-shirt from practice. “I don’t want to bring up my clothes in front of your dad. He already suspects too much.” Simone tears through her closet, with hangers scraping over the wood rail. “Christ. Are you just going to ignore me now?”

With her back to me, Simone doesn’t respond, and it infuriates me. Damn. I’d be so down for angry sex right now.

Annoyed, I say, “Looks like it didn’t take you long to hump that hippy fucker and Ding Dong Rhodes.”

She returns to her closet with more angry rummaging. I sit on the edge of her bed, and the overwhelming sadness of that night and tonight sinks into my bones. Assuming she’ll ignore me, I mumble, “You should be grateful I turned this shit around.”

Simone sucks in a loud breath, but she doesn’t fight me as she pulls a shiny gold dress off a hanger and drapes it over her shoulder. I’ve never seen her so intent on not speaking.

As she tosses boxes, I sigh. Okay, then. I have no problem ranting. “Did you see that douche knob down there? You can’t let him win.” Simone squats to dig through shoes. I wonder how many shoes are at her mom’s house in Dover. I thought I had a lot, but she has enough to supply a Macy’s.

I hear Simone’s shaky breaths as she stands, holding a pair of gold heels with long straps. I imagine them climbing her legs, reminding me of running my hands down them before eating her out. My dick surges, and I flinch, as it’s not a welcome feeling like this.

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