Page 4

My person won't be there when I get home, and I don't know how to deal with it.

CHAPTER TWO

Christian

With The Devil in I by Slipknot blasting through my subwoofers, I pull into my driveway feeling miserable as shit.

For a long moment, I just sit there and puff on a blunt while I let the music play. My neighbors on the other side of the duplex will probably bitch about the noise tomorrow, but I don't care.

The upside of Tay moving out means I can smoke weed in the apartment, I guess? Nah. Logan would have some shit to say about it, that fucking nerd.

Pfft. A nerd who's got a wife and a boyfriend.

Speaking of…

A wet slurp cuts through my spiraling thoughts. Glancing through the open window, I find Logan’s boyfriend, Owen, standing there with a soda in hand, dark waves of hair a mess.

“You look upset,” he says, straw squeaking obnoxiously as he takes another sip.

“How long you been standing there, little creep?”

He just shrugs and leans his elbows against the door, dressed in one of Logan’s dorky polos. “Long enough to watch you wipe away a tear. Is it because Taylor's not here?”

I smack my lips with a glare. “Don't you ever go home?”

Seriously, ever since Logan moved in, it’s like his boyfriend came with him. Little guy is always lurking, eating all my food, following me around. Sure, I’ve known him since college—he was friends with my ex—but that doesn’t mean I appreciate the fucker stealing all the toaster pastries. Plus, Logan isn't even here right now. He's on a date with his wife.

Jesus Christ, what world am I in where everyone's partnered up except me?

“This is bullshit,” I mutter, crossing my arms against a cold autumn breeze. “One of these days, you people are gonna die of happiness, and I’ll be the only asshole left.”

Owen hums. “At least you’ll finally get some peace and quiet.”

“Yeah. Can’t wait.” I'm lying. That sounds fucking miserable.

He slurps again, drawing a scowl out of me. “You sound like a vacuum cleaner. Stop it!”

“Jealous of my sucking skills?”

That comment kicks up butterflies in my stomach. I glance up at the stars sparkling down on us, and try to force back the image of a set of whiskey-brown eyes gazing up at me from the ground. A sinful smirk and wicked tongue. Pierced lips stretched around my cock⁠—

Nah. Fuck that shit. I ain't thinking of that rotten asshole again, not after he slept with Arya and nearly killed Logan.

Okay, technically, we were sharing my ex-girlfriend, but that's not the point.

Owen lets out a low whistle. “Y’know, I've got the perfect cure for a broken heart.”

“You're not sucking my dick, fool.”

“Even better,” he smirks. “Booze and dancing. Let's go to the bar.”

I scoff. “The last thing I want to do on my day off is hang around work.”

Which is a shame. The Prospector used to be my favorite place, but now that Tay and I work there full-time, it's no longer fun.

“So we'll go somewhere else,” he suggests, grinning around his straw. “There’s this new club that opened downtown. Logan said I’m not allowed to go alone because I can't keep my mouth to myself. He wants me to be safe.”

“You’re both weird.”