Page 32 of Speak of the Devil

“With her . . . or you? I told you I don’t do relationships. She knew that when we met, so I’d say that’s pretty fucking honest.”

Flipping her hair over her right shoulder as if the language is too crass, she looks down at the floor between us. I bet if she had pearls, she’d be clutching them.

As if those texts didn’t already cause enough damage, my phone buzzes on the counter where I left it.

I exhale my frustration with the damn phone adding to my issues and justifying myself to Cat like I need to.I don’t.“I can’t control the text messages I get from other women.”

She looks up with a mission in her eyes. “No one says you need to, but you should be honest with her.”

“It’s my business, babe.”

“So you can bring upmysex life whenever it suits you, but yours is off-limits? Got it,babe.”

“Whose sex life are we talking about again? I was only aware of one.”

Red seeps up her neck and strikes her cheeks. “Screw you, Shane.”

“Watch your language, sweetheart.”

She tugs the door open with enough force to damage the sheetrock, but she doesn’t release it. She stands there with her back to me, her hand holding the handle like she needs the support. “Why did you have to ruin it?” she asks, her voice much quieter.

“It’s what I do.”

Nodding slowly, she walks forward, closing the door behind her.

I stand in the wake of her disappointment, left alone in my righteous indignation. Closing my eyes, I condemn every thought I have telling me to go after her. Nothing good will come of it. I’ll disappoint her now or hurt her later. Cat doesn’t deserve either.

Fuck it.

I tug open the door, ready to chase her down the driveway like I said I wouldn’t. “Whoa!” I catch myself before tripping over her sitting on the top step. “Fuck, give a guy a heart attack, why don’t you. You almost got trampled.” She glances up as I walk down the other two steps and turn to face her. “What are you doing?”

“Beating myself up.” She looks at me. “I have no right to judge you.” Standing, she adds, “To the world, even to you before a few days ago, you were single.”

I probably shouldn’t smile, but her staking claim over me because of some error is adorable. I knowingly acknowledge that’s typically the last thing I want a girl to do to me. Again, Cat is different. Not sure why, but I’d like to find out. “So you don’t consider yourself single?”

The question has her searching our surroundings for an answer, but she won’t find it there. Just like I didn’t. “I haven’t thought about it, but I guess I am. A technicality doesn’t change anything.”

“Except in the state’s view,” I add.

“Or if we were dating other people?—”

“Good thing we’re not.”

“Right,” she replies eagerly. “It’s one less knot we don’t need to undo.”

Propping my foot one step higher, I ask, “Where do we go from here? I can have my attorney draw up the papers. You won’t need to spare the expense.”

“I can pay for an attorney?—”

“You said you don’t want anything, so it shouldn’t be complicated.”

She steps down, bringing us closer. “We should look into annulments. It might be a time-saver, and I imagine that we’d qualify based on . . .”

“Based on what?”

“We haven’t consummated the marriage.”

She’s staring at me like she won a prize, but I’m not seeing that option as a positive. I refuse to lose this staring contest, though. She blinks first and says, “I’ll do some research.”

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