Filed to story: Swallow Me Whole (Sadie & Ashton) Book Free
“If you can’t remember, then you’ve had too much.” A door squeaks open, and Lesley flips on the light. Through the haze of my twirly reality, I recognize her bedroom, which seems off to me.
Probably because my shit is no longer in it.
“What’s going on, Jules? This isn’t you.”
“You are so wrong,” I say, pointing a finger at her as I flop onto her bed. “I’ve got a bad habit, Les.”
With a sigh, she settles onto the mattress next to my hunched over form. “I wouldn’t go that far. You don’t drink very often.”
“That’s not what I mean. I have a bad habit of screwing around with married men.”
“Tell me you didn’t.”
“I kissed him.” I blink a few times until the outline of her form isn’t so blurry. “Or he kissed me. What the fuck does it matter who kissed who? We’re both so far gone.” I flop over and hug her pillow.
“You’re gonna get hurt,” she says, rubbing my shoulder.
“It’s too fucking late. I love him.”
“He’s married, Jules. Say he does leave his wife? I say once a cheater, always a cheater. He’ll turn around and do the same to you.”
“Things aren’t that black and white.” I glare my pent-up frustration in her direction. “And by that logic, you might as well say the same about me.”
“That’s not what I meant. I know you well enough to know that you’re not like that. You made a mistake, simple as that. One you’ll hopefully learn from.”
“So it’s okay for me to cheat, but not him? Double standard much, Les?” I’m drunk, cranky, and hurting, but I can’t seem to care about my shitty behavior right now.
“You’re right,” she says. “I don’t know him, or the circumstances. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“You’re a good friend. The best friend I’ve ever had.” I cuddle her pillow a little tighter, my lids growing heavy. “I’ll apologize tomorrow for being a bitch. Just let me sleep it off, ‘kay?”
The bed shifts, and her footsteps fade as she leaves the bedroom. She shuts off the light before closing the door, but the streetlamp outside the window offers enough illumination to chase away the pitch dark. Sleeping it off isn’t going to come as easily as I’d hoped. I fish my cell from my pocket, thankful I didn’t lose it during my string of drinks and drowning sorrows. Shuffling through my notifications, I frown.
A missed call from Chris. Big surprise there, since he’s been calling and texting for a couple of weeks now.
He misses me. He wants me to come home. He’s sorry. He forgives me. Blah, blah, blah.
I pull up my contacts, and my thumb hovers over Cash’s name.
Don’t do it, Jules.
Closing my eyes, I relive the moment his lips touched mine for the first time. The way his fingers twisted in my hair. The way he pulled me close—so close that I felt every hard plane of his body against me.
His abs under my palms, his mouth on my throat, his hard cock nudging me through his jeans. Holy hell, do I love that man in jeans. There is nothing sexier than Cash Montgomery in jeans and a T-shirt.
For a long while I stare at my cell, trying to reconcile what I should do with what I want to do. What I want is him, and I’ll take him any way I can get him, even if it’s only through a text message during a weak moment I can’t help but steal.
Me: Are you alone?
He answers almost immediately.
Cash: Yes. Are you?
Me: Alone and drunk.
Cash. Jesus. Where are you?
Me: At my friend’s house.
Cash: Is the guy with the tattoos there?
Me: He lives here.
Cash: The thought of him touching you is making me insane. Please tell me you’re not doing anything stupid.
Me: Stupid, like finding someone who can actually be with me?
Minutes pass, and I bite my lip as I wait for him to answer. I’m a nervous wreck, wondering what he’s thinking.
Me: Please talk to me.
Cash: I’m here, Jules. I just don’t know what to say.
Me: Just tell me the truth, no matter how much it might hurt.
Cash: The truth is I don’t want you with anyone else. But that’s not fair to you, so if you’re into this guy, and he’s treating you right, then I’ll deal with it.
Me: What if I want to be yours?
God, I have no filter right now.
Cash: We both know that’s not possible.
Tears sting my eyes, and there’s no chance of holding them back now—not with the crushing weight of his words on my chest, making it hard to breathe. Blinking the sorrow down my cheeks, I reply to his text, and a teardrop lands on the screen.
Me: Because you love her?
Cash: No, because divorcing her involves more than just the two of us.
Wiping my eyes, I glare at his message.
Me: I don’t understand. That makes no fucking sense, Cash.
Cash: I told you it’s complicated.
Me: Then fucking uncomplicate it.
Cash: I’m not sure I can.
Because I’m just a girl he’s hot for, and nothing more. All this time I thought he felt the same way, but if he isn’t willing to fight for us, then I must have been wrong. The realization winds around my throat, squeezing a sob free.