Page 43 of Pretty Stolen Dolls

Dillon lets out a growl.

“Nothing happened, Bo,” I huff, waving away his aggression as nonsense. “This is my partner.”

He laughs harshly, no humor present. “Jesus,” he seethes, “you expect me to believe that when you’re both practically fucking naked?”

My eyes lower to my unclothed form. Ever since my time with Benny, I’ve never been able to sleep with anything on. One pillow. A simple sheet. Bare. Just like I lived for four long years.

“It’s not what it—”

“I fucked someone too,” he blurts out, his tone scathing. He’s trying to hurt me. Sadly, it doesn’t like it should.

Relief.

“What?”

“Cindy, from my work. You know she’s been after me since forever. Well, I fucked her after I left here the other night.”

Cindy, ugh. She’s the one who tried to steal a kiss from him at midnight at the New Year’s Eve party last year. She’s slutty and cheap.

Who is this man?

This isn’t my devoted, doting Bo.

“You pushed me away,” he says defensively. “You drove me to it. I came here to confess and hopefully move past it, but you have him here already. Did you fuck him in our bed?”

“My bed, Bo,” I snap, but then soften my voice. I let tears form in my eyes as I speak words that will cut him. “And yes, I fucked him in my bed.”

Dirty little doll.

“On my couch. In my shower. And that wall.” I point to where he’s still pinned by Dillon. Dillon grunts and flicks his eyes over his shoulder at me in confusion.

I will miss Bo. Learning to cope alone will be a task, but we just aren’t supposed to be together. I’m toxic for him—stealing his hard earned happily ever after and drowning it in my dark past. Shit, Bo of all people cheated on me for God’s sake. Loyal Bo, cheated on me. I drove him to it. I’m a mess.

“I want the ring back,” he snarls, pushing at Dillon’s arm.

Dillon lets him go, but his body is still coiled and tense, eager to exact damage on Bo if he so much as looks at me wrong. When Bo starts toward me, Dillon shoves him out of the kitchen toward the front door. “Take it up with her over the phone. You’re done here today, buddy.”

“I want the goddamned ring back!”

I hold my hand up to calm him. Sadness picks away at my heart inside my chest. “You can have it. I’ll send it to your mother’s.”

Our eyes meet once more and his lip curls in disgust—disgust at what he thinks I did to him. I want him to think I cheated. It will help his heart move on from me. He deserves more than I could ever give him, but my heart still aches because I’m losing my closest friend. He helped get me where I am today.

The door closes with a slam and I’m left staring at a half-naked Dillon. His eyes unabashedly skim over my bare form, his cock, long and generous, thickening in his boxers as he takes me in.

I should cover myself, but I don’t.

Heat flushes my cheeks and causes my nipples to harden in response.

“We didn’t fuck,” he mutters, low and hoarse.

“I know,” I breathe, my chest betraying my lust with heavy pants.

Dillon’s gaze narrows, finally landing back on my face. “Put some fucking clothes on. We need to talk and I can’t do that with you standing there looking so goddamned tempting.”

Tempting?

I stare at him, dumfounded.

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