Page 42 of The Break Out

I wince not wanting to tell her about how I willingly met up with him at a bar because I was lonely. I give her the short version and say we just happened to be at the same place when one thing led to another, and we kissed.

“So, what you were drunk and then fucked him?” she asks, like it’s not a big deal.

I shake my head slowly. “Uh, no. That happened a couple weeks ago. The sex happened last night.”

“So…”

I sigh. “He said if he got a hat trick then he was coming over.” I swing my gaze over at her because I’m sure she saw the game and knows how that worked out.

She rolls her lips in between her teeth, and I can tell she’s trying to stifle a laugh.

“It’s not funny,” I scold.

“No, it’s not, but I will admit that was smooth of him.”

“We hate him, Spence, come on.”

She nods. “I know we do, we really do, so then what happened because you didn’t have to let him in.”

“I mean no, I didn’t, but I opened the door to tell him to go away, and he pushed his way inside. Ellie is a traitor, then things just…happened.”

“So, it was your cat’s fault?” she teases.

“Partly, yeah.”

She waits for me to say more, but I don’t.

“And?” she finally prods.

“And what?”

“And how was it?”

“We aren’t talking about that because it doesn’t matter. I told him it was only happening once, and I figured that’s all he wanted, but he texted me today asking if I was ready for him again.”

This time she doesn’t hold back her bark of laughter and I scowl. “Damn, he’s down bad for you, isn’t he?”

“No, he just wants to piss off Brent.”

“And he wants to do that by secretly fucking you?” She raises an eyebrow at me.

“Well…yeah, I guess.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you want to continue secretly fucking him?”

I cringe, but don’t say anything. My knee jerk reaction is to say, “fuck no.” But I don’t. I can’t because as much as I hate him, I can’t deny how good everything felt, and there’s no fear of any feelings getting involved. It’s honestly the perfect no strings attached situation since there could never ever be strings. I can hate him and still fuck him.

“Maybe,” I answer finally.

“If it feels good, then why not. I mean you haven’t been with anyone that I know of for a hot minute.”

“I haven’t.”

“So, if it doesn’t hurt anyone, then why not?”

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