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Marriage being a death sentence or not, I had to move fast. And Ivy was the ideal woman. She would understand. We could come to some arrangement.
But why is she with him? Grr…
I peered into the mirror again.
Mm… that douchebag’s leaning in a bit too close.
“Hey, man, you look kinda pale,” Ben said.
I turned from the mirror and said, “I forgot to dab red powder on my cheeks.”
“It’s called rouge,” Alex said matter-of-factly.
I smirked. “What aren’t you telling us, dude?”
“What?” Alex splayed his hands wearing a puzzled frown. “I know women’s makeup?”
Ben grinned. “Oh really?”
“Now listen, you dickheads, I’ve got a fucking sister. That’s how I know it’s called rouge.”
Ben and I laughed.
“Just playing with you, man,” I said, appreciating the distraction. That’s why I loved these guys. We could clown around and all my issues would dissolve.
Only Ivy was there with another dude. A dude who was not me.
My attention returned to the mirror to check on her.
With that long, golden hair that I loved to twirl on my finger while staring into those pretty eyes, she looked ripe. Beautiful.
Good enough to… ravage. Or even marry.
To have and to hold… um… forever?
Her teasing eyes found mine in the mirror, and my dick twitched. I’d never met a woman who could do that to me after two months of dating.
Then again, I’d never been with the same woman that long.
And what was even more perplexing, I couldn’t stop thinking about Ivy.
Like every day. Every fucking hour.
Mm… what does that make me?
Fucking confused.
