Page 21 of Forever After Fall

“But she doesn’t.”

“Marlowe won’t tell her?”

“Not if she knows what’s good for her.”

“We’ll have a military tribunal for not telling her and then a shotgun wedding in one day if she does.”

“Marlowe won’t tell her. And we definitely won’t. So we should be good.” At least if I can stop thinking about him and that night. Over and over again. “There’s just one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“That night. I didn’t know it was you. You didn’t talk. Your suit was almost the same color. And your height is similar to Jasper’s. But I was talking the whole time. You had to have known it was me.”

TEN

Anson

Fuck.

I did know it was her. There’s no way out of this one except by admitting the truth. Or at least part of it.

“I did.”

“And yet you still…” She gives me the mercy of not repeating my actions back to me like an indictment.

“I did. You were so… I don’t know. Wild and eager. You just sort of slammed into me and took me by surprise, and I thought you knew it was me. I assumed Hazel sent you after me to get the whiskey. Figured you thought I needed some help. When you said your best friend’s brother at the wedding. I thought you meant Hazel, and therefore me.

“So yeah, I thought it was out of the blue, but stranger things have happened than a bridesmaid going after a groomsman in the heat of the moment. Plus, the wedding just made me realize, nah not realize… It reminded me. Reminded me of how lonely this all is. I figured it couldn’t hurt anyone if I just went along with it and gave you what you wanted.”

“Is that what you do with those women? Go along with it? Or do you enjoy it?”

“Does it matter?”

“It should. Shouldn’t it? Also, if that’s you going along with it, damn.” She presses her lips together. “I want to know what it’s like when you’re having fun.”

I could show her. I’d happily fucking show her.

I can’t say that though. We’re having a serious conversation. Hashing out everything that’s happened this week, and it feels like we’re being more honest with each other than we ever have. I’m not going to sacrifice that because I can’t help silencing a fucking impulse that I should be able to control. I’d much rather show her than talk about this though.

“I enjoy being with them. Physically. In some cases, there’s a real friendship there. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t. But it’s a very clear arrangement. Expectations. Boundaries. All those things you said.”

“Does it work?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, when I talked to her, she made it sound like you helped them transition back to being able to date again. Or at least do casual hookups again with other men.”

“Yeah. For some of them, that’s the goal.”

“And for others?”

“They just want me to be a stand-in. It’s just about the sex. Being able to have it again and not feel all the pressure and expectations.”

“That makes sense.” She pauses like she’s on the verge of asking something else but hesitates.

“You can ask. I don’t mind. Just wasn’t quite prepared is all.”

“Are you still seeing any of them?”