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“Wanna bet?” Caleb shouts in return. “Tell your friend goodbye,now.”
“I’m out of here,” I say as I climb up from the couch.
“No, don’t go,” Isaac complains as he follows me toward the foyer.
“I should really go,” I say when I reach the door.
Isaac turns back to his brother with an expression of resentment on his face. “Caleb, you’re such a dick!”
My gaze connects with Caleb’s across the room, and it feels like we are the only two people in on the secret. I know exactly why he’s kicking me out. It’s not because he doesn’t like me or Isaac is grounded.
It’s because Caleb is no better than his father.
* * *
Present Day
Which one of them will knock on my door first? That’s the real question tonight as I lie on the couch, wishing I had picked up an extra client this week to at least have an excuse to get out of here.
It’s nearly eleven, and I know one of them will come knocking at any moment. It’ll either be Briar, reeling from her desire and guilt, wanting to hash out her identity crisis with me as if it’s my fault.
Or it’ll be Caleb coming here to threaten some answer out of me. Or maybe just get in my face again because he seems to love that.
Either way, I can’t quite figure out how I ended up here. Stuck in some married couple’s quarrel—and not just any couple. This is the marriage of the man I hate. The only thing more confusing than that is the question of why I don’t just leave.
Because Iwantthem to knock. I want to see their faces. I want to feel a part of whatever it is they have going on.
And that’s fucking stupid. I shouldn’t want to be a part of their marriage. I really shouldn’t give a shit what they have to fight about. That’s between them. It has nothing to do with me.
Today with Briar was just about revenge—at least it was supposed to be. But I’d be lying if I said the exhilaration of running out of that museum together and getting her alone in that elevator didn’t feel like the most exciting thing I’ve done in months. Pressing her against the wall had my dick more interested than it’s been in a long time.
Briar is so refreshing. She’s nothing like I first expected, but I suspect that beneath that good-girl, sweet, suburban facade is a woman dying to feel desired. Does Caleb not make her feel that way? The taste of her skin is still on my tongue, and every time I lick my lips, I pick up a hint of that delicate perfume she wore.
I must drift off to the memory of that kiss when a knock at the door wakes me—aheavyknock.
With a wicked smirk, I climb off the couch and walk over to answer it. My smile grows as I pull the door open, revealing a very disgruntled-looking Caleb.
“Can I help you?” I ask, leaning on the doorframe.
He shoves me into the apartment and slams the door behind him. “What did you do to her?” he snaps.
Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I keep my cool as I reply, “Nothing she didn’t want.”
“You motherfucker,” he replies with a growl. The next thing I know, I’m shoved against the wall, and Caleb’s sneering face is in mine.
So predictable.
“That was the deal, right? You told me I couldn’t get your wife to want me, but guess what? It only took me one day. I touched your wife today. What are you going to do about it?”
Caleb’s large hand is wrapped around my throat, although he’s not squeezing enough to cut off the airflow. He pulls my body from the wall and slams it back like some angry gorilla. My head smacks the drywall, but not enough to knock me out. It knocks the wind out of me, but I’m aware that if he really wanted to hurt me, he would.
“I never told you to touch her,” he mutters angrily.
“Then you should have laid out the rules of our wager because they were a little unclear.”
“She’s upset,” he replies. “Did you hurt her?”
My brow furrows. “Fuck no, I didn’t hurt her,” I reply, shoving him away, but he doesn’t budge.
