Page 39 of The Most Perfect Wrong

“Stop.” I scowl at him, anger bubbling up inside of me.

He steps toward me, grabbing my hands, pleading, almost desperate. “Baby, please. I’ve been so supportive, I’ve been trying so hard—you owe me this much. Please. Did he eat you out? Because that… I can’t handle that. I can’t deal with it.”

My patience snaps. I’ve gone from empathy to fury in a matter of seconds. “Oh, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me how many pussies you’ve eaten out?” I yank my hands from his grip, crossing my arms and raising my voice. “Youdon’t get to question me!”

I storm out of the closet, heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I just want to go to bed and end this. But he follows me.

“Coop. Don’t walk away—I need to know this.”

I squeeze toothpaste onto my brush, scrubbing my teeth with a force that can’t be healthy for my gums. He steps up behind me, resting his forehead on my shoulder, his hands gripping my hips. “Please, baby,” he pleads softly. “Please. Tell me.”

I spit and rinse, then glance at him in the mirror. “God, Brad. This is ridiculous.” I turn to face him. “You’re acting like a crazy person!” The words feel surreal coming out of my mouth because they’re the same words Brad’s thrown at me too many times to count. Words that have stung more than anything else. I almost laugh. Turns out, crazy isn’t a personality flaw—it’s what happens when the person you trust the most deceives you.

We stare at each other. Me, fuming, and Brad, completely lost.

He breaks the silence, defeated. “Will you at least tell me where you met him? Where you did it?”

I sigh. He’s not going to stop until I give him something. “I was at Tipsy with Casey. She left, this guy came over, and we started talking. One thing led to another, and we ended up in his hotel room.” I raise a brow. “Satisfied?”

He scoffs, giving me a hard, pointed stare. “And did you let him go down on you?”

I roll my eyes. “Oh myGOD!I’m not doing this anymore.” I turn and walk out of the bathroom. “Don’t follow me,” I say, glancing over my shoulder as he comes after me.

“Come on, Cooper. I’m not going to stop until you tell me. Just tell me. Did he go down on you?”

I’ve had it. I swing around to face him. “Yes!” I shout. “Yes, he went down on me! And it wasincredible! There. Are you happy?” But I don’t stop—I keep going. I’m so damn angry athim for pushing me, and now all I want to do is drag this out—torture him. “It was the best damn oral I’ve ever had… and I think about itall the time. I came over and over. His tongue…”

Before I can finish, Brad backs me up against the wall, his one hand gripping my waist while the other cups the back of my neck, pulling me into a deep, heated kiss. He bites at my bottom lip, just enough to make it possessive, but not enough to hurt.

“Don’t fucking say that, Cooper. You don’t mean it.”

I shove at his chest. “Yes, I do.” I feel the tears threatening, and there’s nothing I hate more than to let him see me cry—it’s like giving him the winning hand in a poker game.

He shakes his head. “No, you don’t, baby.” His mouth is on mine again, more tentative this time. He kisses along my jaw and neck, up to my ear, and whispers, “I don’t want anyone else touching you… ever.” His hand slides down into the front of my shorts, cupping me, and I gasp. “This is mine.” He pulls back, meeting my gaze. His fingers stroke me over the fabric. His possessiveness pissing me off more.

I laugh, breathless, shoving at his chest with everything I have. “Fuck you!” My voice cracks, and the tears I’ve been holding back burst free, unstoppable. His eyes flash with something dark—something I don’t recognize—and for a second, I have no idea what he’ll do next.

“Fuck me? How about I fuck you, instead?” he snarls. He spins me around, backing me against the opposite wall with a force that’s just a little too hard. His hand grips my waist tighter, his fingers digging into my skin while his thumb swipes across my lips, his hand gripping my jaw. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s jarring enough to make me freeze. Panic rises in my throat—he’s strong.

He leans in again, his mouth crushing against mine. I try to shove him away, but he grabs my wrists, pinning them to the wall above my head. For the first time, fear flickers through me—real fear. Brad’s never been like this before, never pushed it this far.

And yet… I kiss him back. It’s easier. It’s safer. This is what we do. We fight, we yell, we make up. And somewhere in the chaos, I convince myself it’s okay. And for the first time, I’m scared—scared to push back.

I take his tongue into my mouth, kissing him with everything I have left to give. He releases my wrists as he feels me kissing him back, and I wrap my arms around his neck. His hands slide under my shirt, pulling it over my head. God, the pent-up tension—the frustration, the hurt, and now the confusion from finding out Ryan has a wife—it all churns inside me. This feels like the only way to let the storm out before it tears me apart.

He tugs my shorts down, and I step out of them, reaching for the button on his pants. We push and pull, shove and yank, until we end up on the bed, tangled in a mess of incredibly heated, sweaty sex. It’s raw. It’s emotional. And right now, it’s the only thing that feels somewhat real between us.

But it’s not love—far from it. It’s almost a hateful vengeance, a desperate grasp for something tangible in this disaster we’ve built together. Maybe that’s why I give in every time—because it’s the only thing that grounds me in this relationship. And if I’m going to be stuck with him, I need something in return to make this bearable.

It’s fucked.

It’s broken—I’m broken.

But right now, it’s all I have. It’s the only thing that gets me through each day.

Chapter 13

RYAN

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