Page 34 of Opening It Up
“I do not want to go anywhere with Makayla,” he said. “We are not dating.”
Now I would have to be an idiot not to notice that Harley was quietly unravelling. He was an orderly, methodical man, and this had thrown off all his normal routines.
But I wasn’t letting up. Not by a long shot.
CHAPTER 14
Harley
Maybe this double date at the steak restaurant had been a bad idea. In fact, I knew it was.
I didn’t want a double date at all. I wanted to go out with my goddamn wife. Byourselves.
But now Leopold and Lily-Mae were looking sickeningly comfortable with each other.
Like he was her husband. Not me.
My tie felt way too tight, my skin crawling with thewrongnessof it.
Why had I ever thought I couldsharemy wife?
But if I broke down and started begging her to give up this whole stupid open marriage idea, she’d know I’d only suggested it because of my lust for Makayla.
At least this way I could show I hadn’t just gone out with Makayla.
I fought down my revulsion at the random woman beside me.
“Leopold, Lily-Mae, this is my date.”
They both stuck out their hands pleasantly.
Why the fuck wasn’t Lily-Mae jealous? I was eaten up with jealousy every time I even thought about her with someone else, but my wife couldn’t have been less affected.
Why didn’t she care? The woman beside me was literally a model. But Lily-Mae couldn’t give a fuck.
And then I spoke.
“I want you to meet. . . Flea.”
“Flea?” Leopold asked, raising his eyebrows. “You sure you’ve got that right?”
“Nice to meet you, Flea,” Lily-Mae said.
But my date was looking angrily at me.
“My name isn’t Flea!” she hissed. “It’s Bree. B-R-E-E.Bree.”
Damn, fuck.
“Sorry,” I said.
And that was the high point of the dinner.
Glaring angrily at me, my date sat down.
Leopold and Lily-Mae glanced at each other, and in that glance there was something that made my stomach lurch uncomfortably. There was humor in that glance, affection, a shared sense of the ridiculous, a silent understanding that they were both only refraining from laughing out of politeness.
I clutched the table as my throat felt dry as sandpaper.
