Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
I nodded, respecting his wish not to feel coddled or pitied for the hand life had dealt him. Darren hadn’t always had it easy. Who did? But he worked hard and didn’t let that hold him back. It made me like him even more.
“Why you looking at me like that?” he asked.
“Like what?”
“Can’t tell what it is, but it’s different. I think maybe you just realized how fucking awesome I really am. About damn time.”
A laugh fell from my lips, loud and deep and…real. Jesus, there was something contagious about him, something that just made me like talking to him and being around him, being friends with him.
Darren joined in, this raspy sort of chuckle. We were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Stay here and relax, Mr. Football Player. I’ll get the food.”
I went to the door, tipped, then brought the food to him.
“Should we move to the table?” he asked.
“Up to you. I don’t mind staying on the bed as long as we don’t make a big mess.”
Darren nodded as we sorted out our food, sitting across from each other on the firm hotel mattress.
“Breakfast or dinner?”
Darren cracked me up with his silly this-or-that questions. “Hmm…dinner. You?”
“Same. Tight end or quarterback?” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Pfft. Tight end, of course,” I teased.
“Wrong answer. You just broke my heart, JereBear.”
“Are we back to that name again?” I asked, but really, I was feeling that stupid crush a little more. He was so damn adorable.
“No. Is that your final answer, though?”
It absolutely wasn’t, but I played it off with a huff. “Fine. Quarterback. What’s Anson up to, anyway?” This was a safer topic for me.
“Probably sleeping or talking to West. They’re ridiculous. I have to listen to them all kissy face on the phone when we travel.”
I laughed. “I hear ya. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a couple so in love. I try to tease West about it, but it’s hard because they’re so damn cute.”
“Nah, I just give him shit.” Darren winked. “I feel bad, though, ya know? I used to always try to get him to go out with me, tried to get him laid, didn’t know the whole time he was struggling with his sexuality. Makes me feel like a dick.” Darren took a bite.
“It is what it is. Can’t go back. You didn’t mean anything by it, and you don’t do it anymore. We can’t let ourselves feel bad our whole lives about mistakes we’ve made in the past. We just have to do better.”
“You can say that again.” Darren held his fist out, and I bumped it. How very dude-bro of us.
“Is that what you usually do? Go out and get laid after the games?”
He nodded. “Pretty often, yeah. Less now than I used to.”
“What changed?”
“Don’t know, really. I feel ridiculous saying it’s getting old, but it kinda is. It all runs together like some weird-ass cycle. I don’t know if that makes sense. It’s hard to put into words.”
Something flickered inside me, this spark of familiarity. “No, it does. That’s how I’ve been feeling too—both with Bobby and my career. I’m in court every day, getting the same kind of people off, going back and forth between LA and San Francisco, following my husband around or talking to him on the phone while just being…alone. Bobby and I were open. We had rules in place that worked for us. There was no real jealousy. I’d take men into my bed, or he would, but, as crazy as it sounds, that got tiring. All of it. And I realize how privileged I sound. My high-paying career, my travels, the sex I was having… I’m lucky, and people would kill for that life, but it doesn’t mean it can’t feel lonely.” And I had, more and more as time went on. “Do I sound like the world’s biggest asshole? I’m sure I do. Poor little rich man who—”
“No,” Darren cut me off. “You don’t. None of the things you have negate that you’re a human being with feelings. You’re allowed to feel lonesome.”
I couldn’t help wondering if he felt those things too, if we had that in common. If something inside us recognized that loneliness in each other, and that’s what made this friendship grow so fast and strong.
Darren didn’t tell me if he did, though, just asked, “You guys fucked other people? When you were married?” without looking at me.
“Yeah.”
“That worked for you both? Even when you loved each other?”
It was hard to explain to people who weren’t poly. Often, they simply didn’t understand. “It worked until it didn’t. I will say that I don’t see anything wrong with an open marriage. I know people who’ve spent their whole relationship that way, people who’ve been married longer than we were. People I don’t see breaking up. That’s not why we divorced, but toward the end, it was another reason why things didn’t work for me. You think you might want that if you get into a serious relationship?”