Page 8 of With a Cherry On Top

“Is this my account?” I ask as I point at the page.

“Yep.”

“Cool,” I say flatly. “Delete it.”

“What? No!” Kyle turns to me. “Do you know what 728 stands for?”

I wait for the inevitable answer.

“The approximate number of days since you had sex. Makes you think, doesn’t it?”

No, not really. Sex might be a big part of his life, but it’s not hugely relevant to me. I’m much more concerned about the number of days since my daughter last saw her mom, which is skirting dangerously close to two hundred. “Delete it.”

“Wait—wait.” He holds on to my sleeve when I motion to leave. “Look, she’s my favorite creator. I had to stop seeing her because, I swear to god, I was falling in love.”

He taps on the keyboard, pulling up the profile of a blonde woman with the largest breasts I’ve ever seen. So large, in fact, that in her picture, she’s biting her own nipple.

“Jesus, Kyle.”

“What? She’s really smart.”

“Yeah. I’m sure that’s why you kept going back.”

He holds up the card. “This will cover a one-on-one. I strongly recommend stocking up on tissues and contacting Jewel.”

“Ugh.” Logan emerges from the hall with a nauseated expression. “Why do you always need to be so fucking gross?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Remember that time I caught your soon-to-be wife sucking you off in the stables?” At Logan’s glare, Kyle shrugs and stands. “Come on, let’s get out of here and leave him to it.”

“N-no.” I try to stop them as Logan drops the screwdriver on the carpet and stands. Nowthreepeople will know I’m masturbating? “No thank you. Really?—”

I follow them through the house until they pull open the front door. Kyle flashes me a playful finger gun. “Enjoy, okay? And tell JewelPussyAssassinsends his regards.”

On the echo of a groan from my brother, the door closes.

PussyAssassin? That’s a whole new level of unsettling.

My shoulders drop as I wander back to the living room, the princess castle box open and the pieces scattered on the carpet.

One more thing for me to do.

I crouch down and grab the instruction manual. It’s several pages long and I’m already fucking tired, but thinking of Sadie’s face seeing it all done gives me the push I need.

I sort through the pieces then begin reading, but halfway through the second page, my eyes dart to Jewel. To the obscene picture staring back at me.

I need to delete that account.

I stand and walk to the laptop, venturing out of Jewel’s profile and back to my own. I tap on “Delete your account,” and patiently wait for the page to load. A pop-up asking me if I’m sure appears, but before I can tap on the trackpad, Mollie lands on the keyboard.

“Holy crap. Where did you fall from?” I look around, then grab the little shit and pull her off my laptop. “Sorry, this is adifferenttype of pussy.”

I turn to the screen, horrified to see that she’s led me onto some other woman’s profile.

Horrified for all of a second, before my shoulders drop and my mouth snaps open.

This woman . . . wow.

She’s stunning—well, whatever I can see of her is. Her face is not visible but I think she’s a redhead, though her hair is different in a few of the pictures in her carousel. A short black bob in the shot where she’s wearing a leather corset, blonde waves in the picture of her lying down on her stomach. Wigs, maybe.

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