Page 7 of Fourth Wall

Just as I began to turn away was the exact moment my free hand landed on top of a Lego piece, and those fuckers are more painful than I could have ever imagined.

“Agh,” I muttered in an attempt to lower the scream I wanted to bark out.

Quickly, Maeve turned around toward me, tits fully out now, and I was privy to watching her nipples tighten when she saw me staring.

“Like the show, perv?” she shouted from the bedroom before throwing on a T-shirt over her jeans. Another reason I loved Maeve’s vibe was how relaxed she always looked. She was notorious for wearing graphic T-shirts with stupid sayings and baggy jeans. Today’s shirt said “anti-social moms club.” Ironic since I was here to literally bring her to a friend’s house. She walked out of her room and watched as I threw the fucking Lego piece across the room. I snapped over to her, not letting her win that comment. I took the few steps to close the distance between us. The electricity zapped as I leaned down to her face.

“If you were putting on a show, firecracker, you would be bent over that bed with your pretty little ass up in the air suffocating on the mattress while my cock impaled you. So no, watching you dress was no show, princess.” She stood there, shocked and unmoving. “Just kidding.”

Good. I appreciated that I had the element of surprise with her. She needed someone to shake up her world.

“Go get in the car, firecracker.” I turned my back to her and walked back out to the car. She huffed behind me, and I could hear the crunch of the gravel.

“Lock the fucking door, Maeve,” I shouted before I heard her scramble back, muttering what only could be curse words under her breath.

I left the passenger side door open for her and walked to the driver's side of the Porsche before slamming the door shut. I looked down, and I was still so fucking hard from watching her. The way her pretty little mouth pursed when I told her what I really wanted to do to shut her up. The way the curves of her body were what people paid for, but she had them naturally. I fixed myself before I heard her get into the car and shut the door.

“I’m having a pretty shitty day, so you should cut me some slack from your teasing.” Maeve looked out the window, not making eye contact with me as I reversed out of the driveway. I didn’t mean to upset her. I just thought that was how we talked to each other. But I also couldn’t let her think I was going soft for her.

“Come on, firecracker, where would the fun be in that?”

“You’re an asshole. I don’t understand how anyone is your friend.” She huffed and crossed her arms in front of her chest again. When I glanced over at her, she looked so fucking cute, pouting like one of her daughters would.

I reached out instinctively to grab her thigh and gave it a little squeeze. She looked down at the foreign touch and then back up at me before leaving her arms folded across her chest. I hated the way her lower lip puffed out when she was mad. I hated the way her creamy skin felt so smooth underneath my raw and calloused hands.

I hated how fucked I felt when I was with her.

6

Maeve

I hated Christian West. I hated the way that he came into my house and started to immediately judge the way it looked. I hated how fucking hot he looked all the time in the most effortless way possible. I really fucking hated how much my parents loved him. My parents loved no one. They despisedTyler when we were married and only tolerated him because of the girls. But no, somehow, they have a huge hard-on for a six-two tattooed-to-the-brim Viking-looking hunk of a man.

We pulled up to Tatum’s sprawling mansion, and I quickly jumped out of the car and pranced toward the front door, leaving Christian.

“Thanks for the ride.” I waved at him, not bothering to look behind me.

“Next time, be on time,” he shouted back.

My wave turned into the middle finger, where I screamed, “Never!”

I found Tatum in the kitchen drinking a ginger ale. I threw some hard candies that helped me when I was in my first trimester on the counter before giving her shoulder a warm rub. When I first met Tatum, she hated hugs, but it'd been a few years now, and she was finally getting used to them a little bit. I tried to offer a handshake first, though, and reserved our hugs for moments when I thought we both really needed the physical comfort.

“How are you?”

“Better now. It comes in waves.” Tatum waved at Christian as he passed us on the way to Julian’s office.

“I caught him creeping on me earlier. I was changing, and the door didn’t shut all the way, and he watched me change. Ew.” I grabbed a mug and filled it with coffee that Julian had made.

When Tatum didn’t respond right away, I looked over at her, and she stood at the counter just grinning at me.

“Don’t go there,” I retorted.

“Christian and Maeve sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N—”

I playfully patted her, and we both ended up in a fit of giggles.

“He is so annoying to me. I don’t understand why he can’t like, take a shower or shave or cut his fucking hair.”

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