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Course he is, you goober.
Little does he know you’re the sluttiest slut.
Tell him to join you and Ford next time.
I sigh, putting my phone back in my pocket and running a hand down my face. Yeah. Tatum was unhelpful. Don’t know why I even bothered, even if his last suggestion is something I’d love to do.
My stomach grumbles, but the stress of this situation makes me more nauseous than anything. Eating right now will probably make me vomit. I’m not a stress eater. If anything, I tend to avoid food when I’m upset.
“You okay?” Ford asks, rounding the corner, a concerned look on his face. I just nod, slapping my hand over my neck and deciding I need to go the fuck home. Right now. I don’t need Ford seeing this hickey and then putting two and two together when he notes Cash’s mood. So I say nothing, just stride past him, grab my backpack sitting on my desk chair, and jog out to my car. My dad arches an eyebrow at me on my way out, but I don’t say anything to him either. I just need to get the fuck away.
When I get inside my car, I lock the doors and allow myself a minute to breathe before starting the engine and nearly peeling out of the parking lot. I know my dad will probably try to ask me about what’s going on when he arrives home, but I can’t tell him.
I’m a terrible person.
Making my way across town, I find myself back at my apartment where I trudge up the stairs and into my small kitchen. My bag lands on the floor and then I shuffle to my room and flop onto my bed. I was supposed to head to Cash’s later, but I’m almost sure that the invitation will be rescinded. Cash and Ford don’t seem like guys who like to share. There’s a difference between knowing we aren’t exclusive and seeing evidence of it. I know for a fact that Cash was in a monogamous relationship for years before she left him for someone else. He probably wants monogamy. But this isn’t a relationship, this isn’t more than what it is because it can’t be. My dad is a major reason, but also because I want them both. Equally. At the same time. But right now, the lines are getting blurred, and I don’t know what the hell to do about it.
A frustrated groan escapes my mouth, and I pound at the pillow, feeling tears sting my eyes.
I got greedy and look what happened.
Pulling out my phone, I see that I’ve missed a call from Ford, but I just delete it and open my camera again, angling it down to my neck and brushing my fingers over the purple bruise sitting on my skin.
My cock perks up at the memory of Ford rutting into me, and I roll my eyes to the ceiling.
“You need to get your shit together,” I mutter, more to my dick than to myself… hell, who am I kidding. I’m talking to myself too.
“You really need to get it together,” I add, and then shut my phone off and toss it onto my pillow, slapping a hand over my face.
I can’t run forever though. I have to go in to the shop tomorrow… and the next day. Maybe I’ll just tell my dad I quit, that I can’t help him anymore.
Maybe I’ll just avoid Cash forever.
The thought of losing him makes my heart and stomach clench, and I roll onto my side, pulling my knees to my chest.
My eyes close, and I focus on what I can hear and feel, trying to push the anxiety out of my mind. It works just enough to let me fall into a restless sleep. Visions of Cash and Ford plague my mind, and then my mom’s face suddenly appears… a face I don’t even remember seeing, it’s just a face from photographs.
Her usually smiling face bleeds into a frown, and dread fills me as I wake with a start.
I sit up in bed and press my hand against my chest, feeling my dead mother’s disappointment from beyond the grave.
“Goddamnit,” I say and then stand up, chugging some water and then stumbling into the shower.
It’s when I step out of the steaming room, feeling only slightly better that a knock on my apartment door has me freezing.
It could be one of three people,I think as I pull on some sweats and a white t-shirt before opening the door and seeing my dad on the other side.
“Hey,” I say, and my dad gives me an awkward wave.
“Avery said to give you space, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Avery, my dad’s new roommate and the guy who mans my dad’s office at the shop. I’ve always liked him, and I like him even more right now. He obviously has my back.
“I’m fine,” I say and then pull my shirt up over the hickey lining my skin. My dad’s eyes fall to it and he arches an eyebrow.
“Guess it has something to do with that?”
His words linger between us, and I shrug, feeling so fucking guilty. Not that it’s ever stopped me.
