Page 68 of Unleashed

Simone stiffens in my hands right before I reach her tits. She says, “He’s not lying to you, Dad.” She giggles and leans against me, murmuring, “Maybe Amos won’t be home. Then we’ll have to be late.” If that’s the case, I’ll fuck her twice.

“Promise?” I whisper and inhale her perfume, imprinting the scent into my brain.

Simone grabs a sweater from the closet, and as soon as we close the front door, she breaks away from me and huffs off to the driveway but stops when she sees my new-to-me car. She shakes her head and doesn’t question it.

Tonight is going to be a fucking blast.

RETURNING TO MY CAR, I notice Vaughn watching us from the living room window. “Get a day job,” I mutter. At least his boyfriend isn’t around, watching my walk of self-inflicted shame back to my fake and loveless marriage.

Opening the driver’s side passenger door, I toss another gym bag of clothes onto the back seat. I watch the bag roll onto the floor into a heap, an accurate commentary of my life. When I get into the driver’s seat, Simone’s perfume hits me and knocks me for a fresh loop. As I start the car, my eyes gravitate to her legs. Not that she notices because she doesn’t look anywhere but at her phone. The gold material clings to her upper thighs. We’ll end up in an accident if I can’t get my shit together. Goddamn it. No matter how hard I fucking try not to be, I wish I weren’t so attracted to Simone.

Realizing I don’t need to wear it now, I remove the silver ring and shove it into my pocket before grabbing the seatbelt. Glancing at Simone’s left ring finger, it’s bare. I’d ask about it, but it’s a lost cause. It’s not my job to explain it to her dad.

True to her word, Simone doesn’t talk to me the entire way to Craze. When we arrive, she jumps out of the car and stands in the headlights. Her dress twinkles, and her tits glow. She’s a damn shooting star on earth. I used to bask in her light, if I wanted to get weepy and poetic. God, I’m still suffering from severe withdrawal, and she doesn’t even care.

Still sitting in the driver’s seat, I shift my hardening dick and lecture myself for being an idiot for continuing to fantasize about her. I check my phone and see a response from Tansy, saying she’s not working and will meet me here.

As Hadley approaches us, I get out of the car, squealing about Simone’s dress. Compared to hers, Hadley’s little black dress is something a librarian would wear. I bet Wilder fucked her before letting her leave the house without him.

As they chatter, Sylvie screeches a hello and other shit about Simone’s dress. Jesus Christ. It’s so skimpy it’s almost indecent. They haven’t even seen the whole thing without her sweater yet.

Taking a deep breath, I linger behind the squawking until Hadley smiles at me. Uneasy, I shift and scratch my head, anything to dodge the uneasiness. I don’t know how long things will be weird between us or if they’ll ever go back to normal—if lusting after my BFF, trying to break up her marriage that I helped facilitate, and thinking I fathered her kid is anything close to normal. I’ve always been uncomfortable around women, but Hadley and Simone never used to unnerve me.

Hadley nods toward my shirt. “You look nice. Are you trying to impress someone?” She glances at Simone, laughing with Sylvie. Simone’s ice-blonde hair shimmers in the parking lot light, and I miss it sweeping my chest and face.

“Nope.” I smooth my dark blue silk shirt. Pairing it with black jeans isn’t dressing up for anyone.

I mutter, “Uh, you look nice too.”

Hadley asks, “What’s up with Simone wanting to go out tonight? Inviting you, even?”

I sigh and try to avoid looking at Simone for too long in front of Hadley. “Her dad came into town today and is crashing with her. She’s not thrilled.”

“How did he take the annulment news?” Ouch.

“He hasn’t. That dickhead would rather see us split up, but we’re not gonna let him.”

Hadley holds up her hand as she cocks her head to the side. “Wait. So you and Simone are...what? Going for another round and getting along? How’s that possible? This afternoon, you tore out each other’s throats.”

I shrug and search the area near us for Ferrera. “We’ve reached an understanding.”

“Hmm,” Hadley says, walking, so I follow as we trail Simone and Sylvie into Craze.

I roll my eyes as I grab the door from Sylvie and hold it open for Hadley. The music ends our convo as Simone talks to people near the entrance. Thumping bass, cheap booze, and stale sweat laced with perfume fill the air. With a new cover charge at Craze, we hand our money to a hulking cretin whose muscles strain against his black and white shirt. I expect to see Rambo or Tank on his name tag, not Huey.

Hadley moves closer to Simone, maybe asking about the state of affairs. Hadley will be disappointed if she expects to find Simone crying about me. She won’t.

As we walk toward the corner tables, past the colorful dance floor, guys check out Simone and Sylvie. Hadley’s pretty but in a more cute and wholesome way, whereas Simone is a smoking bombshell that oozes sex appeal.

Simone stops to hug some fucker with a faux hawk. Is that still a thing? His filthy grin suggests he wants Simone for more than a damn drink. Why in the hell am I here?

“You’re foaming at the mouth again.”

“Huh?” The music is loud, so I lean toward Hadley, who is again next to me.

“You’re conjuring violent scenarios of attacking any man who dares to give Simone a second glance.”

With a smirk, I scoff. “Get a hobby, weirdo.” But I hate I’m that obvious.

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