Page 19 of Messy Strokes (Wrecked Roommates)

A lump lodges in my throat as I stand frozen in shock, my gaze darting from Milo to his girlfriend and back again.

I want to disappear. I need to.

“I’m sorry. Why is she staring?” the skank asks, her voice high and pitchy, though she still doesn’t bother to cover her freaking boobs. If anything, her back arches a little more, her pert nipples brushing against Milo’s bare chest as she leans into his side.

Without a word, Milo grabs her chin and slams his mouth onto hers, sliding his tongue between her pouty lips while making his stance very clear.

If he wanted to stab me in the chest, he’s succeeded. If he wanted to show me what it was like to watch the person you love kissing someone else, then bravo. Give the man an Oscar. If I hadn’t already vomited, I would do it again. He’s rubbing my nose in it––the fact he’s not mine anymore, and he never will be.

He bites her bottom lip before pulling away and tossing his arm over her shoulder. “You gonna get that?” he repeats, holding my gaze.

I glare back at him and fold my arms, ready to go head-to-head with the bastard who woke my daughter up in the first place. “Maybe she wouldn’t be crying right now if you could keep your whore quiet.”

She gasps.

Milo doesn’t bat an eye. “Says the girl who loved when I stuck my cock in her. Pretty sure you used to wake up the neighbors.”

“Pretty sure it was Gibson who made me scream,” I volley back.

His eyes flash, and he steps closer. “Oh, really? Maybe I should give Tatiana another go to remind you what you’re missing.”

The heat from his bare chest makes my breasts ache, and my nipples tighten with need as I lift my chin and stare up at him.

“Hell, maybe you can watch this time,” he adds, not missing a beat.

“I believe watching wasyourkink, not mine.”

“Oh, so you’d like to participate?”

“With you? Hardly.”

“Good. ‘Cause there’s not a chance inHellI’ll ever touch you again.” He leans closer, his breath fanning across my cheeks, smelling like sex and whiskey. “Go. Get. The. Baby.”

What little is left in my stomach swirls as he punctuates every word.

I storm past them, slam my bedroom door behind me and let the first tear fall, knowing it’ll be one of many as I march over to Peanut and hold her close.

I can’t do this.

8

Maddie

Squeezing my eyes shut, I breathe in the fresh aroma of coffee and bring it to my lips, desperate for an ounce of normalcy. For a minute to myself. A minute where I’m not a mother, or an ex, or a used-up bitch, as Milo so eloquently put it yesterday after humping a girl’s brains out.

His car is missing from the driveway. If it wasn’t, there’s a good chance I never would’ve left my bedroom this morning. But Peanut’s finally asleep, and I need to reset, or else I’ll be lost in the endless loop ofwhat-ifsandwhat could’ve beens. It’s exhausting. Especially when I spent all last night replaying the sound of Milo’sfriendscreaming her guts out as Milo plowed himself into her.

The memory burns, so I shove it away.

Nope. I’m not doing this again.

I want to be me for a few minutes.

Without the weight of Milo or Peanut.

Me.

Madelyn Walker.

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