Page 197 of By His Play

My chest constricts and my stomach knots at the thought of him with someone else. It’s stupid. He’s probably been hooking up with supermodels and tying them to his bed since he first arrived back here.

He told you he didn’t do that with others, a little voice says, but I bat it away.

Just because he said it, doesn’t have to make it true.

He was on a mission to get me out of my head and make me happy. Who the hell knows how much of what he said was true?

For all I know, I was the worst lay of his life, and while I’m here regretting agreeing to our little deal because it’s fucked everything up, he’s regretting ever touching me because of how awful it was.

That’s not true and you know it.

“Fuck’s sake,” I mutter, chastising myself for getting lost in these kinds of thoughts.

Continuing to ignore the docuseries I selected to watch on the TV, I grab my cell and open Instagram.

The first picture that appears hits me like a bat to the chest.

Kieran is standing between his brothers with a killer smile on his face.

I glance at when it was posted.

An hour ago.

All the air rushes from my lungs as my eyes return to his.

Just like the two older Callahan men, his eyes sparkle with life and excitement.

All three of them are in tuxedoes, heading out for some fancy event.

Emotion crawls up my throat until my nose itches and my eyes burn.

I may not have often gone to an event with Kieran, but I always knew where he was going or what he was doing.

But tonight, I had no idea.

He looks so good. So…normal. And I’m here on the verge of tears over a freaking photograph.

Noticing that there are several photographs, I swipe through them in my quest to learn more.

To my relief, I don’t find any women. Just more suited men. When I hit the final image, I discover what’s happening.

They’re having a poker night.

They don’t happen all that often, maybe once or twice a year, but Kieran’s dad and a few associates organize them. And because the older generation are chauvinistic assholes, they’re always men only.

The servers who provide them with drinks and snacks, however, are a very different story.

Jealousy stirs deep within me.

Kieran has fucked them in the past. I doubt tonight will be any different.

Unable to stop myself, I click on his name, seeing as Kian has helpfully tagged him in the photograph, and find myself on Kieran’s profile for the first time since I left St. Louis.

It doesn’t matter that he hasn’t posted anything new; I scroll through like I’ve never seen it before.

My chest aches as I experience just a snapshot of his life.

As per my request, there are hardly any images or references to me on his account.

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