Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
He’d succeeded.
Tate scrubbed his hands over his face. “It doesn’t matter what I say. We’ve been over this a million times. We became friends.”
That lie was almost as good as the one where he’d claimed Franklin was straight.
His being married to a woman meant fuck-all. Closet cases his age were a dime a dozen.
“Right. Friends.” I smirked faintly. “Friends who compliment each other’s physiques and—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” He erupted with anger and glared at me. “I’d spent two hours talking about you—about our deteriorating relationship and how much that hurt—and he texted me later that night—”
“I remember it vividly,” I interrupted. “He said you wouldn’t have any problems finding someone new—someone better—since you’re so kind, intelligent, and—I fucking quote—incredibly handsome.”
Franklin was about as straight as the football-playing classmate I’d fucked in high school while his girlfriend was on a camping trip.
“You know what? We’re done.” He slid off the barstool. “There’re your keys. Have a good life, Lee.”
Don’t call me that.
A noose tied itself around my neck as he stalked out of the kitchen and toward the hallway.
“Why leave so soon?” I called. “There’s so much more to that discussion! I recall you responding with ‘I could say the same about you,’ and a few days later when he asked how you stayed in such excellent shape!”
He cursed and kicked something, maybe the door, before he stormed back with all the fury in his eyes. “You know what I remember? I remember you telling me after a fight that you’d had enough. I asked if you wanted to break up, and what did you say, Kingsley? What did you fucking say?” he growled. “You said it was probably for the best! And I spent a week at my parents’ house before you suddenly wanted to work shit out again.”
I gripped the edges of the counter tighter, and I didn’t need the goddamn reminder. It was during that week his texting with Franklin had become more personal.
“We get one single day together,” he sneered. “Then you go through my phone and everything falls apart.”
“Because you wouldn’t fucking stop talking about Lily and her poor dad!” I shouted. “And I’ve told you I didn’t intend to go through your damn phone, but when my boyfriend receives a text starting with ‘I don’t know what I would’ve done without you,’ you better fucking believe I get suspicious.”
His cheeks flushed with anger, but there was more than that. He had to fucking realize how damning the evidence was. How on earth could I interpret those texts any differently?
“Do you need me to be the bad guy here?” he asked. “I honestly don’t think I’ve even hugged Franklin, but maybe me cheating on you makes it easier for you to move on from a much larger issue between us—the fact that I was never comfortable with us having an open relationship.”
I reeled back in sheer disbelief. Had he lost his mind? “Are you for real?” I asked incredulously. “We agreed to have an open relationship within kink before I even took you out to dinner, Tate.”
“It was your idea!” he yelled.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I didn’t hear you protest when I lined up subs in front of you.”
Besides, so what if it’d been my idea? We’d needed a solution since his needs wouldn’t have been met without us being open. The only kink I had that Tate didn’t enjoy for himself was humiliation, but it wasn’t that important to me. It wasn’t anything I needed to be happy. He, on the other hand, needed to let his inner Dom out every once in a while. What choice did we have?
Tate groaned out a string of expletives in frustration and covered his face with his hands. “Why do I keep hoping another fight is gonna solve anything? We’re so fucking over.”
We were. As much as that killed me.
I was still so fucking in love with this boy that I didn’t know what to do with myself—and it hurt to see him wiping tears from his cheeks. But we’d reached our end, as we’d predicted we would before we fell for each other. It was only ever supposed to be casual.
We used to joke about it in the beginning.
“This is gonna hurt eventually, isn’t it?”
We’d been right.
CHAPTER TWO
Kingsley Madden
“For chrissakes!” I dug out the millionth guitar pick from the couch cushions and tossed it on the table. That was it. I couldn’t take another evening home alone. I needed to drink myself into oblivion among people tonight.
After a quick shower, I pulled on a pair of jeans, a black tee, and a hoodie, essentially my standard outfit, which Tate used to like to tease me about. But he wasn’t around anymore, was he? I hadn’t heard a word from him in over a week.
Technically, it had been longer, but since we were part of the same BDSM community, I’d seen him at a big event last weekend. Hadn’t said a word to him, though. He’d barely looked at me.