Page 50 of Doing It for Love

“But—”

“Never.”

“But…you started it.”

He shook his head and let go of my lips. “I’m ending it, too.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I joked, and he proceeded to tickle me silly. No talk of parents ever crossed the bedsheets again. But I’m seriously considering it now.

“Botflies.”

“What?” I muffle into my pajama bottoms. Landon sits up next to me, the screen on his phone lit.

“We’re watching bot fly videos.”

He holds the phone out and hits play. Two seconds in I’m already cringing.

“Eww. Why—”

“Because I need some damn sleep.”

I flick my gaze to his face, dark circles in the light of his phone, bloodshot eyes, and hair an adorable mess. His shirt is twisted, and the waistband of his boxers is so wrinkled it looks as if he’s been fisting them all night just to keep his hands under control. A sleepy laugh pours from my mouth. I tuck under his arm, keep my hands to myself while he keeps his on his phone in front of us, and we watch disgusting bot fly YouTube videos until the sexual tension dissipates. Only thing is…I still want to touch him, even after the mood is broken.

Tomorrow I’ll get him to cave. But tonight, I’ll settle for the draw.

—

There’s dust on my exercise bike. I sigh, clap my hands, and pull it to the center of the room. I’m out of breath by the time I get it in front of the TV.

“Well, that’s enough exercise for me,” I say to myself and go to set up the rest of the room. I alternate between rolling out a yoga mat and eating my Butterfinger, putting out weights and eating my Butterfinger, and bouncing on my exercise ball and eating my Butterfinger. Now the final touches…the spray bottle to my face, neck, and stomach…and a fan to my nipples to make them perky. I’d use other ways to get them to stand out, but I’m no cheater.

I make sure there’s plenty of “sweat sheen” along my hairline and cleavage, and then set the bottle down in the bathroom and grab the mini fan. I’m blowing my nipples to a point and chewing the last bite of my Butterfinger while sitting on the dusty exercise bike when I hear Landon’s key in the door.

Swallowing the chocolate, I chuck the wrapper across the room—miraculously making it in the garbage, move the fan to my face, and heave my breasts with fake labored breathing. Chocolateville, here I come!

Landon shuffles through the doorway, eyes tired and…red-rimmed. I instantly stop pretending to exercise.

“What’s wrong?”

He tosses his hoodie on the card table, shuts the door quietly behind him, and trudges over to the bike. His lips peck mine briefly, and it’s so lackluster and sad it feels as if someone stole his lunch money.

“Babe?” I prod, setting my hand on top of his.

“Been trying to get ahold of you,” he says, voice gravelly and low. I reach for my pocket, but my yoga pants don’t have any.

“Oh, sorry, I was…working out.” I frown at my lame answer, at the fact that it’s pretty much a lie, too. “What is it?”

He flips his palm under mine and pulls me from the bike. He plays with my fingers, with my ring, and I’m trying not to lose patience while he stays lost in thought. In the four years since I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him cry. I’ve seen him get frustrated, kick things, and walk away. I’ve seen him sad and he doesn’t shed a tear. He sits in silence, deep in thought or attempting not to think at all. I’ve seen him drop a bag of cans on his foot, slice his thumb with a knife, wrench his ankle into a brace…and not a drop fell from his eyes—but a whole lot of cursing tumbled from his lips.

He’s not crying now, but the redness of his eyes suggests he was recently. Did someone die? Did he hit a dog on the way home? Does he want to cancel the wedding? I step into him so he remembers I’m here, and I still know nothing.

“We had a meeting at work today.”

“Okay.”

“Things are getting slow.”

My heart thuds. “Did you…did they do layoffs?” I’m trying to keep my voice steady, but it’s pretty much useless. We’re already struggling, and Landon’s directing isn’t paying anything yet, and my hours at Bed Bath & Beyond are about as high as I can make them without living there. Suddenly even that dress at a discount seems out of my reach.

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