Page 58 of Fabulous Filthy Friend

Have a good time.

:-) You gonna be around tonight? We can get Chinese?

I don’t know if I can handle another night sitting next to Rachel on the couch and watching TV. Her arm brushing against mine. Or even worse, snuggling. Her laugh filling my ears. The chaste kiss on the cheek before she leaves for the night.

No. Definitely not.

I just need a little breather. A night off. Especially with this surge in the market, I’ll be working late tonight as it is. When I do get home, I’ll probably be too tired to do anything.

Sorry. Working late.

Okay. Talk to you later.

The elevator dings, announcing our arrival at the parking structure. I hadn’t even noticed we were moving. I need to get out of my own head. None of this is healthy.

We step out, and I shove my phone back into my pocket.

Dan stops in front of me, and I bump into his back.

What the hell?

“Jesus, man!” He glances over his shoulder at me. “Who the hell did you piss off?”

I step around him and look over to my car.

All I see is red.

And not because I’m angry.

My breath catches in my throat as I stare at the red paint—or at least I hope it’s paint—splattered across my windshield and hood.

Dan slowly approaches it. “Does that say whore?”

Oh, God.

I struggle to swallow back the bile threatening to make me gag. “Sure looks like it.”

Somehow, I manage to keep my reply sounding calm when inside, my heart thunders against my ribs, my blood rushes in my ears, and my hands are shaking.

This is bad.

This is so, so bad.

He turns to me with a smirk. “You having hot sex that I don’t know about?”

I move toward the car, slowly, as if delaying arriving there will make what I’m seeing disappear from my vision. But when I reach the hood, the offending word is still there.

A message.

One that, directed at me, can only refer to one thing.

I circle the car, checking for anything else, but the mock blood only appears on the front. “Not that I know of.”

It’s been two years since I dated anyone seriously, and that ended as amicably as possible. She said she felt my heart wasn’t in it—probably because I was falling more in love with Rachel every day.

But, oh, fuck.

What if one of my viewers found out who I really am…

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