Page 24 of A Fool's Game
“Even if I was the kind of guy who was going to date the same girl as someone else, there’s no way that guy,” I point forcefully toward the large window where I can see him watching us, “is going to share you with me.”
She laughs. “Oh, he definitely shares.”
And with those words, the anger and confusion and betrayal I feel melts away into another feeling.
I want to call it pity. Sadness that this beautiful, intelligent woman thinks the best she deserves in life is some cafeteria manager who’s willing to let other guys fuck her.But there’s something else. Something twisting in my gut and stirring up unexpected feelings in my jeans.It’s fucked up and unspeakable,but my mind is suddenly filled with images of us doing just that. Of me fucking her while he lets me. Of his hands on her body while I’m inside it.
Never in my life have I ever imagined myself doing something so…degrading. Disrespectful.But there’s no denying what the thoughts are doing to me.
I cough to try to shake myself out of whatever spell I’ve fallen under. I cough again, squeeze my eyes closed, and pray to be transported back to the calm safety of my apartmentso I can jerk off in peace.
“Fuck,” I mutter as quietly as I can, eyes still closed.
“It’s just dinner, Ains. Just come hang out. No pressure.”
When I can’t even force my eyes open, let alone get an answer to come out, Gem lays a hand on each of my shoulders. I finally blink back to reality, the light of the bookstore fluorescents nearly blinding me.
“Tomorrow, six o’clock, my house. Okay?”
And I’m so thoroughly broken and disillusioned by my own warring mind that I just nod.
“Great. You bring wine.”
I blow a breath slowly through pursed lips, settling into the fact that I just accepted her crazy invitation.
“White or red?” I say finally, my voice surprisingly normal, given what a complete transformation my entire mind and body just suffered.
She laughs again, but this time it sounds more like relief. “It doesn’t matter.”
I shake my head, almost on the verge of laughter myself—but the manic kind. “It matters.”
Her grin is as bright as the goddam sun. “You two are going to get along great.”
And before I can process that statement enough to argue, she’s lifting up on her toes to place a kiss on my cheek andescaping through the front doors of the bookstore.I stand frozen in place, watching as she rejoins her boyfriend and no doubt tells him about our dinner plans. He glances my way once more before pulling her under his arm and leading her off.
What the fuck did I just agree to?
Chapter 11
Taylor
Itaste the sauce with a wooden spoon and savor it for a moment before picking up the balsamic and adding a splash. Turning down the burner to let it mellow out, I move on to the dough resting on the counter. I’m just getting ready to stretch it out and press it into the olive oil coated pan when two arms snake around my middle.
“He’ll be here soon.”
I smile, even though she can’t see me.
She’s nervous. Has been all day.
This isn’t the first time we’ve had a date like this in our almost three years of dating, but somehow this one’s different.I can see the difference in Gemma. In the way she’s pacing around trying to make everything perfect. The way she’s explained to me at least three times what her childhood connection is with this guy and why I need to be nice to him.
And I will be nice—to a point. I’m still not convinced this guy is going to have anything to offer her…but I do get why she picked him. I’ve gotten to know him a bit over the last week, and it’s obvious why everyone in the kitchen seems to love him. He’s smart, levelheaded, personable, and rich as fuck. He’s a guy who’s going places in life.
I’m not particularly excited about being a phase in someone’s journey of self-discovery, but Gem seems to think he’s worth the time, so I’ll humor her.
“You ready?” I ask, hands still working the dough into a large rectangle.
She leans on the counter next to me, close enough that I could kiss her, but far enough that she isn’t risking getting her dress dirty. I relax a bit at the sight of her, all dolled up in a teal blue dress, her hair in the soft curls she always complains about not having time to do, cheeks flushed with excitement.
