Page 63 of Breaking the Rules of Love

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” I reply, turning away from Rachel. I go over to the bar and take a heavy glass from Paul containing some kind of whiskey cocktail. I take a sip. Whatever it is, it’s good. “Thank you.”

“You like it?” he asks.

“Yes, thank you,” I reply.

“What about my wife?” he asks. “What do you think about her?”

What did he just say?

I glance back over my shoulder to see if Rachel has moved from her spot by the fire to listen in on our conversation, but she’s still there—still dancing sensually like before.

When I look back at Paul, he’s staring at me expectantly. He picks up his own glass and takes a long sip from it.

“I’m sorry, what?” I ask.

“My wife,” he repeats. Yup, he just said what I think he said. “What do you think about her?”

He must be pissed. Clearly he picked up on the way she was acting on the ride back, and it doesn’t take a genius to see how she’s behaving now. And now he’s pissed.

See, this is why I shouldn’t have accepted her invitation to come inside for a drink. I knew better, and yet I still came inside. What is wrong with me?

“Listen, Paul, I wasn’t trying to come on to your wife or anything. If that’s what you think–”

“Jake, relax!” Paul laughs, putting a hand on my shoulder. “That’s not what I’m implying. I’m just asking you—do you think she’s pretty? Do you think she’s sexy?”

Seriously, what the fuck is going on now? How do you even answer in this situation?

It’s not like I can say no. Insulting Paul isn’t going to make things any better. I might as well just be polite until I can figure a way out of here.

“Of course, Paul,” I say slowly. “Any man would think your wife is pretty.”

“Fantastic!” he roars, throwing his hand above his head. “Well, Jake, how would you like to fuck her?”

44

Jake

I’m still tryingto process what I just heard, and I think the best way to do that is to down half of the whiskey cocktail Paul handed me.

I’m normally not that big of a drinker, but tonight has been a trip, and his latest question isn’t helping level things off at all.

I thought things were going pretty strangely when we were riding home, but I guess it’s all starting to make sense now. As a matter of fact, that whole job interview-style conversation we were having on the drive into the city makes a whole lot more sense now too.

Paul and Rachel have been sizing me up since the moment I met them.

“Fuck her?” I repeat.

“That’s right.” Paul grins, sipping his drink. “Rachel and I have been together for alongtime, and we like to spice things up a bit. We tried it once and realized that I like to watch and she likes to be watched, so…” he shrugs, and his grin broadens. “If you’re up for it?”

I can’t believe this is happening.

I’veheardof situations like this, but I’ve never actually met a couple who is into this sort of thing.

I glance over my shoulder and see Rachel still dancing, backlit by the fire.

“Am I up for it…?” I mutter as I watch Rachel move in front of the fire, her hips swaying back and forth, lit by the flickering flames behind her.

I think back to the cabin and my confession—how I felt when I told Sadie about my wife and my daughter and how I thought she would respond versus how she did. How she basically threw my emotions right back in my face and told me we were done.

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