I text Fiona the next morning, letting her know I’m busy today—yeah, busy getting the third degree from Lola—but that she’s welcome to come over for a coffee tomorrow. She says she’ll leave the boys at home with Dylan and be here at ten thirty.
I drop the kids off and wave to Trey, Lola’s husband, who dropped Sophie off this morning before making the ten-minute drive to their place on the other side of Bonnets Bay.
Pulling over outside their gorgeous three-bedroom beach-style white cottage that Trey spent two years renovating himself, I grab my purse and climb out. Nerves take hold as I walk down the driveway to the front steps of their wraparound porch. I walk up them and knock, but Lola’s already there, pulling open the door and grabbing my hand to drag me inside.
“Are you crazy?” she hisses, the door slamming closed as she releases me and marches into her living room. I follow her, feeling like a child who’s about to be scolded and take a seat on the plush couch by the window next to her.
“It’s from him, isn’t it?” She reaches over and moves my hair aside to see the hickey that I remembered to cover with makeup this morning. She licks her finger and rubs it off.
“Ew!” I try to squirm away from her.
“Shut it, hussy. Stay still,” she orders.
I do as I’m told, rolling my eyes.
“Shit, it’s a good one. Has Leo seen it?” She sits back, her eyes bugging out comically as she drums her fingers over her mouth.
“Apparently. But he only warned me to cover it up before the charity gala next weekend.”
My heart hurts at the memory of his cold, annoyed voice.
“Are you shitting me?” She breathes.
I shake my head then scrub my palms over my face.
“What a prick. He doesn’t even care that you’ve been with another man?” She doesn’t try to hide her anger or disbelief.
“It doesn’t seem like it. But Jared and I, we didn’t …” I trail off.
“You didn’t have sex with him?” she finishes for me.
“No, we didn’t. I couldn’t do it.” I sigh, leaning back into the couch and curling my feet under my ass. “But we kissed, and he, well, he made me, you know …”
“Oh, my God.” She pauses. “I shouldn’t be asking you this, but what was it like?” Her eyes light up with interest.
“Amazing. Well, it was until I … fuck, I feel like such a moron.” I close my eyes briefly, “I started crying, Lola.”
She tries not to laugh, but I see it there, the amusement in her eyes. “You’re not exactly cut out for the whole affair thing after all, are you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so,” I admit.
“Not when you’re clearly still in love with your idiot of a husband.” She sighs, relaxing back into the couch.
“I told him.” I stare off at a picture of her, Trey, and Sophie on the wall. “I told him before it even happened that I was having an affair.”
“What? Are you serious? But if you weren’t …” It must click for her because she says, “Ohhh, you were trying to goad him into giving a shit, weren’t you?” She laughs. “A little evil but clever.”
I pick at my nails. “I guess.”
“He didn’t care when you told him?”
“No, just said to do what I want, and that we’re not getting divorced.”
“Holy fucking shit, I could kick him in the balls so hard right now, Lia. How the hell haven’t you yet?”
I laugh, despite feeling like I want to curl up into a ball and sleep until this whole disaster is long behind me. “I have no idea.”
She’s quiet for a beat then asks, “So what did Jared do when you burst into tears? Hightail it out of there as quick as he could?” She smirks.
“Actually, no.” I smile as I remember how sweet he was about it. “He held me. He comforted me.”
“Seriously?” She frowns. “He’s into you then? Wants more?”
The words make my back straighten. “Uh, well, he knows he can’t have more.” I think about that for a second, knowing I’m probably fooling myself. “So I don’t think so. I think maybe he just has a thing for married women.” I scoff. “The sneaky bastard sent me a text yesterday. He called himself from my phone when I was cleaning up my face in the hotel bathroom.”
She slaps me on the shoulder. “Shit, Lia, delete it. It’s bad enough that what’s happened, has even happened and Leo knows. Don’t let this go too far.”
“Would you quit hurting me, woman?” I grumble and rub my shoulder.
“Sorry,” she mutters sheepishly. “But seriously, what did he get all over your face that you needed to wash off in the bathroom?”
We both burst out laughing when my phone chirps in my purse, which is sitting on the coffee table. She dives for it, and I let her. Not really caring at this point.
“What the …” She drops the phone between us on the couch. I glance up to see her a little red in the face. “It’s him,” she whispers.
I can’t help but laugh. “Oh my God, stop it. He’s not going to reach through the phone and make you have sex with him.”
I pick it up, shaking my head and laughing softly until I read what it says.
Jared: Can’t stop thinking about the way you squeezed the fuck out of my finger. Makes me wonder how awesome it’s gonna feel when you come wrapped around my cock.
PS: I don’t like being ignored, Blondie.
I drop the phone, too. Dumbfounded and flushed as hell.
“I know this is going to sound bad,” Lola says. “But my freaking panties feel damp.”
My mouth is dry as I admit, “Yeah. Mine too.”
“Fuck me, what are you going to do, Lia? That guy”—she points at my phone—“he wants you, bad.”
I groan. “I don’t know. I thought he’d be scared off after what happened on Tuesday.”
She guffaws. “He’s so far from scared it isn’t even funny. In fact, it seems like he only wants you more.”
Damn it. I rub my legs together, feeling frustrated and so confused. “Should I tell him to stop?” I bite my thumb nail. “I should tell him to stop, right?”
She nods, solemnly. “Right.”
Sighing, I pick my phone back up and tap out a response, flashing my phone her way to show her what I sent.
Me: Jared, I’m sorry, but you need to stop. I think you should delete my number.
Lola snorts. “Oh yeah, real convincing.”
Glaring at her, I ask, “What the hell am I supposed to say? He’s been … good to me. I don’t want to be a bitch.”
She remains quiet, biting her lip as she stares at me.
“What?” I ask.
Her blond brows furrow. “You care about him. You like him, don’t you?”
I roll my eyes. “What is this? High school? Wait till you meet him. You’ll like him too. Trust me.”
She snickers. “Yeah, but I know how to look and not touch, my lovely Lia.”
My phone chirps again. “Ignore it,” she practically growls.
I raise my hands in the air. “Fine,” I huff. “Got any coffee? I need something stronger, but it’ll have to do.”
She scoffs, getting up and walking off to the kitchen. I follow her. “Do I have coffee? You should know better than to ask such stupid questions.”
That has me smiling, thankful she doesn’t hate me and that she’s somehow trying to remain supportive through all this. Even if I don’t deserve it.
That night, Greta sits next to me on the couch while we finish watching Beauty and the Beast. I’m a little more lenient with their bedtime routines on the weekend. Leo is out; he went to the effort to send me a text earlier to tell me that he’s having dinner with a client and will be home late. But I don’t mind. After he admitted to noticing the hickey on my neck last night, I would be even more anxious about what to do in his presence than I normally am.
God, I still can’t believe I let Jared do that. But to be fair, I wasn’t exactly thinking straight about anything, so desperate was my need to finally have an orgasm from someone other than myself. Yeah, I’m an idiot. I almost want to come clean to Leo, tell him that something happened but not what he might be thinking and that I’m not going to do it again.
But he either wouldn’t give a damn, or he’d ignore me.
That has me remembering that I didn’t read Jared’s last text from when I was at Lola’s house.
Once it hits nine thirty, I take the kids upstairs to brush their teeth and tuck them in before grabbing my phone and laying back down on the couch. I open it up to Jared’s unread text.
Jared: You can’t make me quit you, Blondie. So don’t even try.
I’m tapping out a response before I can help myself. He needs to know that I can’t do this.
Me: Please, Jared. I need you to stop. I shouldn’t have let it go as far as I did. I’m sorry.
He replies right away.
Jared: I can’t stop thinking about you.
Me: I’ll change my number … and that’s a pain in the ass. Don’t make me do that.
Jared: Shit, okay. Friends?
I bite my lip, thinking about it. It’s the best I can hope for at this stage really. He sends another message through, and I burst out laughing as I picture him singing the familiar song.
Jared: Why can’t we be friends? Why can’t we be friends?
Me: LOL. Okay … friends only. See you Tuesday.
Jared: ;)
I’m still laughing when Leo walks into the room, brows lowered as he looks down at me. I almost choke as I try to swallow down the panic.
“Hi,” I squeak.
“What’s so funny?” His voice is deceptively soft. He removes his cufflinks while his blue eyes dart all over my face.
I exit out of the texts and sit up. “Nothing, just Lola sending me one of those gif things.” I’m a little shocked by how easily the lie slips past my lips. I’m getting way too good at it.
He stares at me for another second before finally leaving the room.
Of course. The only time my husband pays any attention to me is the one time I don’t want him to.