Page 65 of Gorgeous

I scoff.No.

She sends me an annoyed emoji that makes me laugh. I admit,I’m used to hearing you type at night. It’s too quiet without you here.

It’s not a lie. I can hear Ans moaning in the next room and Hayes’ headboard is chipping away at the sheetrock across the hall. It’s like a pay-by-the-hour motel in here at the moment.

If you want, you can call me. I won’t talk and you can listen to my keystrokes.She responds.

I’m shocked at her offer. I really want to listen to her but I feel like if I take her up on this, I’m crossing a line. A big red line. I stare at the ceiling, hearing Anniston’s cries and Hayes’ grunts, and I realize for the first time how alone I feel. When she was here, I didn’t.

I press on her contact and listen to it ring. She picks up on the third one and doesn’t say a word. And then she starts to type, and my eyes drift closed. The only sound is her breathing and the tapping on her laptop.

And it sounds like home.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying, Jameson. It sounds like you’re saying a hot-ass chick—who can actually tolerate your broody ass—let you kiss her, and you…” His eyebrows shoot up his forehead, encouraging me to repeat what I told him. “I just need to hear you say it again so I’m clear what happened,” he clarifies, totally lying. All he’s doing with that shitty grin plastered on his face is aggravating me, but I give in and play his game because I need advice from another guy, and unfortunately today it’s Theo.

“I pushed her away afterwards,” I say again for his sick sense of humor.

Theo’s grin morphs into a look of horror. “How dare she! That bitch! Doesn’t she know she’s supposed to kiss your dick first?” His tongue goes to his cheek as his hand makes a back-and-forth motion at his mouth. “You’re right, Jameson. I would have pushed her away, too. A kiss on the mouth is a cardinal sin. You’re better off with a girl who knows what she’s doing.”

Deep breaths, Cade. You knew talking to him would be rough.Exhaling, I mutter, “How did you ever find a woman?”

Theo smirks and tosses me the football. “Jameson, your commander gets off on my mouth. Generally, it’s between her lips. Which lips, depends on how filthy I get.”

I am not surprised in the least.

I rocket the football back to him, completely choosing to ignore his comments about Anniston. I don’t want to know all the crude, sexual things they do when I’m not having to witness it firsthand.

“Look, Jameson, I don’t know why we’re out here in the heat talking about feelings. I don’t know if all this celibacy shit has increased your estrogen or what.” He tosses the ball back—in terrible form, I might add—and I snag it before it veers too far right and out of my reach. “But listen to me very closely. Fuck. This. Girl. Just fuck her. What is the worst that can happen? She realizes you’re a big vagina and never calls you again?” He grins, teasing me, and I throw the ball as hard as I can, hitting his left shoulder. He laughs, unfazed. “That would solve your problem, right? Her leaving you alone? Isn’t that what you want?”

Maybe.

I’m not sure now. I know I kept giving Breck a hard time about going home, but the last week was pretty good. I’d gotten to know her better and I actually grew to like her a little bit. Granted, her fuzzy socks and constant dancing and overall optimistic outlook on life got on my nerves, but overall, she’s beau—nice. She’s nice. And too good for a man like me.

“Geez, Jameson. Lighten the fuck up. It’s just sex. You don’t have to promise her a white picket fence and three kids. Just a good time—or bad. It’s been a while since you’ve given it a go, but either way, you can knock the rust off Jameson Jr. and stop depriving him of some action just because you’re being emotional and all of a sudden in touch with your feelings.”

“Talking to you is pointless,” I observe, slipping an earbud in one ear, intent on zoning out and going for a run to clear my head. I need to think. All this shit with Breck is stressing me out. Do I want to fuck her? Yes. Does she deserve to be fucked by a mess like me who can’t commit and can’t love because he doesn’t even love himself? No, she doesn’t. Do I want to be selfish and do it anyway? One hundred percent.

“Ugh, now I feel guilty like I should run with you or something,” he says, tossing the football out into the yard.

I shake my head, already trotting down the hill. “Please don’t. I’m good.”

Theo chuckles, ignoring my request for solitude, and sprints past me. “Come on, Jameson, let that testosterone loose and race me. Winner buys drinks tonight.”

Damn it.

I take off behind him, pushing hard to catch up. I never turn down a competition with Theo. It’s what we’ve always done; push each other to our limits. He’s pushing me out of my head, and whether I want to admit it or not, it’s working. We race past the barn, not laughing, not hearing the music pounding in our ears with each step. We go balls-to-the-fucking-wall with each stride until the only thing I can think about is winning.

What was supposed to be a simple race turned into an Olympic trial through the pastures. I don’t know how Theo has so much endurance. He has less mass to haul around than I do, making him significantly faster than me. I kept pace until the last quarter mile when he sprinted faster than a gazelle to the house, making it look as if he was playing with me the whole time. Now I’m in a worse mood than before.

Hands on my hips, my lungs are on fire when we make it to the backyard. The sight before me is comforting, a smile tugging at my lips before Theo ruins it with a shitty remark.

“Thank God you needed a girl chat and we didn’t have to suffer her wrath.”

We both stand, me catching my breath and Theo eyeing Anniston’s tits as she lays horizontally over Hayes and Mason as they do pushups. She’s casually filing her nails and barking out reps while the guys groan, their arms shaking from the weight of the up and down motion.

I send Theo an eat-shit look. “I did not need a girl chat. I simply asked for your advice, which was terrible by the way.”

Theo shrugs and starts toward Anniston but not before throwing back, “Terrible or not, you know it’s the truth.”

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