Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Music is playing loudly, so I stupidly look around the hallway to ensure I entered the right apartment. Josh doesn’t like loud music, and he’s fussy about who he listens to. But I’m pretty sure Taylor Swift is playing through the apartment, and something is thumping in rhythm to it.
I did ask him to hang some pictures…
Moving through the apartment, my footsteps muted by the music, I round the corner into the kitchen and come to an abrupt halt. My jaw goes slack, and a sinking feeling spreads through my stomach like seawater flooding a ship.
No.
What?
My palm splays across my chest to prevent it from splitting in two. The thumping continues as Eric’s hips plow into the kitchen counter. Thud … thud … thud … thud … thud…
Josh, buck-ass naked, is fucking Eric’s ass like he’ll win a medal if he does it fast and hard enough. This can’t be happening. Maybe I endured more damage from my fall than I initially thought.
I feel like one of the baubles from the tree, scattering into a million pieces, the tiny shards too minuscule to ever fit back together. How can this be real? I swipe my eyes to make sure I’m not hallucinating. “Argh!” Eric screeches when he sees me. Josh doesn’t even notice me until I throw my keys onto the table, his attention flicking from the clatter to me, his eyes going wide.
Color drains from his face, and Eric pulls away from him, racing to use one of my Christmas-themed throw pillows from the couch to cover his thin, long pencil dick. I’ll never again be able to see Rudolph’s red nose without picturing this moment.
Gross.
Grabbing his phone with his free hand, Eric presses at the screen until the music cuts off. They were fucking to Taylor Swift. Josh bought me tickets to her concert for my birthday.
Bastard.
Traitorous fucking bastard.
And making Tay Tay an accomplice… Unforgivable. “You’re cousins?” I blurt, confusion muddling my brain.
“Through marriage,” Eric quickly defends, sweat coating his pasty skin. “Cousins through marriage.”
Oh, that’s all right, then!
“What are you doing home?” Josh has the audacity to ask, like I haven’t just caught him balls deep in his cousin.
No wonder he wasn’t fucking me.
Humiliation has bile creeping up my throat, causing tears to burn the backs of my eyes. “I wanted to surprise you.” I laugh, waving a hand down my undressed form. “I guess you had a surprise for me too, huh?” This red set cost me a fortune. Money wasted that I can never get back.
He steps around the counter, his dick still at half-mast and shining from what I can only assume is lube. And he had the cheek to embarrass me about the lube my body produces naturally? “Poppy.” He says my name like he’s placating a pet.
“Don’t.” I hold up a hand to prevent him from coming any closer.
All this time, I thought I was the problem, but in reality, he would rather be fucking his cousin. His male cousin. “You’re gay,” I announce. A light bulb turns on in my brain, all the pieces connecting and I chuckle like a crazy person. He’s fucking gay.
“I’m not,” he retorts defensively, like I’ve insulted him. “It’s just something we do. I’m going to marry you.” He says this matter-of-factly, like I’ve come home and caught him baking cookies, not fucking his cousin.
My fists clench, recognizing all of the time I’ve wasted, thinking there was something wrong with me and sticking it out all the while. “You’re a cheater!” I snap.
Sighing, he shakes his head, his blonde hair falling over his forehead. I always loved when his hair did that, but now I want to take scissors to it. How blind have I been? “It’s not cheating, not really.”
He’s lost his fucking mind.
“I love you,” he gives me lost puppy dog eyes, his plea raspy. “We’re getting married, Pop.”
Eric’s shoulders fall, swapping the cushion for a blanket. “The hell we are,” I scoff. Belting my coat, I grab my keys and leave back the way I came.
“Pop.”
“Pop.”
“Poppy…”
THREE
Vance
Idon’t often resort to using high-end escorts, but no matter how desperate I am, there’s no way I’m fucking Miranda, so an escort will have to suffice. Miranda is in love with Tristan, and she thinks cozying up to me will get her closer to him. I’m not letting her use me, especially knowing he’ll reject her anyway. We like to share, but it must be a mutual thing, not one of us favored over the other. Feelings are a no go too. It complicates things when they fall for one or both of us.
No, Miranda is now blacklisted. Pulling out my phone, I delete her number before shoving it back in my pocket. Shifting on the barstool, I sweep my gaze around the room.
This hotel always has the best quality escorts loitering in the bar, waiting to be picked up by some overworked, rich bastard needing an escape for the night. After hearing Tristan on the phone this morning, I thought he’d want to come blow off some steam with me. He’s always getting himself worked up, turning into a ticking time bomb that’ll go off at any moment.