Too Late

“I figured she liked it there,” I lie. “Don’t you guys have some kind of open relationship? How does that work?”

Asa’s eyes narrow. “No, we don’t have a fucking open relationship. Why the fuck would you think that?”

I laugh and casually bring up all the reasons why someone in my position should think that, even though I know better. “Jess? The chick you fucked in your bedroom last week? The girl in the pool two nights ago?”

Asa laughs. “You have a lot to learn about relationships, Carter.”

I lean back in my seat. I try to keep this conversation going without seeming too interested, but I want to know every detail about why he’s wasting Sloan’s time.

“Maybe so. I assumed most relationships were between two people, but I guess I’m wrong. Relationships confuse me. As does yours.”

“As does yours?” he repeats. “Who the fuck talks like that?”

We’re interrupted by the waiter delivering our beers. We both take drinks and then he pushes his beer aside and leans forward, tapping his index finger against the table. “Let me teach you about relationships, Carter. In case you ever find yourself in one.”

This should be interesting.

“Is your father alive?” Asa asks.

“Nope. Died when I was two.” That’s a lie. He died three years ago.

“Well that’s your first problem. You were raised by a woman.”

“That’s a problem?”

He nods. “You learned about life from a woman. Lots of men do, it’s fine. But that’s what’s wrong with most men. Men need to learn from men. We work differently than society leads women to believe.”

I don’t respond. I wait for him to continue this rare display of charitable genius.

“Men weren’t designed by nature to be monogamous. It’s engrained in us to spread our seed. To keep the population going. We’re breeders by default, and no matter what society tries to force upon us, we’ll be breeders until we kill ourselves off. That’s why we’re so fucking horny all the time.”

I glance to my left, at two older women whose mouths are hung open, eavesdropping on Asa’s definition of the male species.

“Women are the ones who give birth,” I point out. “Are they not also considered breeders? Would it not also be in their chemical makeup to populate the world?”

He shakes his head. “They’re nurturers. It’s their duty to keep the species alive. Not to create it. Besides, women aren’t into sex like men are.”

I wish I were recording this. ”They aren’t?”

“Fuck no. They crave the expression of thoughts...emotions...feelings. They want to form a bond...a lifelong connection. That’s why they push for marriage, because it’s in their biological makeup to crave a protector. A provider. They need stability, a home, a place to raise their children. Women don’t have physical cravings like we do. So it’s only fair that we create the families for the women, but we also need an outlet to partake in our natural urges. When men fuck around, it’s different than when the women fuck around.”

I nod my head like I’m understanding his philosophy, but it’s making me ill for Sloan. “So in your opinion, women don’t have a biological excuse to sleep with more than one man. But men do?”

He nods. “Exactly. When a man cheats, it’s purely physical. We’re attracted to a woman’s hips, to her legs, to her ass, to her tits. It’s all about the sexual act. Dick in, dick out. When a woman cheats, it’s purely mental. They’re turned on by emotions. By their feelings. If a woman fucks a man, it’s not because she’s horny. It’s because she wants him to love her. That’s why I fuck around on Sloan. And that’s why Sloan is not allowed to fuck around on me. Cheating for a man is different than cheating for a woman, and that’s a fact, proven by mother nature herself.”

Holy fuck. People like this actually exist. God help us.

“And Sloan is okay with this?”

Asa laughs. “That’s the thing, Carter. Women don’t understand because they aren’t made like us. That’s why men were also given the distinct ability to lie so well.”

I smile, when all I’d really like to do is reach across the table and put an end to his ability to breed—an end to his ability to create life that might turn out like him.

“So what role do the mistresses play in all this?” I ask.

He smiles sickeningly. “That’s why God made the whores, Carter.”

I force a smile. He’s right about one thing—I can definitely lie well. “So the whores are for nature and the wives are for nurture,” I say.

Asa smiles proudly, like he actually taught me something. He lifts his beer. “Cheers to that,” he says. We clink our beers together and he takes a sip. “My father used to say something similar to that.”

“Is he still alive?”

Asa nods, but I notice the sudden tightness in his jaw. “Yeah. Somewhere.”

Our food arrives, but I’m not sure I feel like eating after that twisted lecture on Darwinism.

I definitely don’t feel like eating now that I know I’ll be seeing Sloan tonight. At her fucking engagement party.

“You should give a toast tonight.”

I pause, mid chew. “Excuse me?”

Asa takes a sip of his beer. “Tonight,” he says, setting it back down on the table. “At the party. You should give a toast after I announce the engagement. You can string a sentence together better than any other fucker that’ll be there. Make me look good. Sloan will eat that shit up.”

I force the food down my throat. “I’d be honored.”

Motherfucker.





I waste as much time as I can before coming home every day. The less I’m here, the better. After classes were finished up today, I went to the gym, then the library. It was after seven when I finally walked through my front door. Jon was sitting on the couch, glaring at me.

I rushed to the stairs and up to my room as fast as I could, but not before noticing his face. I don’t know what happened after I walked away from him and Carter last night, but it’s apparent Carter wasn’t finished with him, because both sides of his face are black and blue now.

I make sure to lock my bedroom door. I don’t know if Asa is here or not, but I’m never chancing being alone with Jon again.

Once I’m safe in the room, I toss my backpack on the floor. My eyes instantly fall on the dresser. Specifically on the jewelry box sitting on the dresser.

He bought me a ring. He makes promises almost daily and never keeps them. The one time I want him to forget is the one time he actually remembers.

Just my luck.

I walk over to the dresser and open the box. I don’t even pick it up; I just push it open with my fingers, not really wanting to see it.

I immediately wince. Of course he would buy me this one; it was probably the biggest one in the jewelry store. Three huge diamonds make up the majority of the platinum ring, each diamond encased by smaller ones.

It’s seriously ugly as shit. Am I actually going to have to wear this thing?

There’s no hiding this. I knew I should have told Carter earlier today. I just didn’t know how to tell the guy I’m developing feelings for that I just got engaged to someone else. To someone he loathes. Even if that engagement means very little to me.

I hear laughter outside, so I make my way to the bedroom window. There are coolers set up everywhere and Dalton is standing at the grill, flipping burgers. Several people are lounging and standing around. Maybe twenty. Asa must have heated the pool. It’s like 65 degrees out and the water would be too cold to swim, but there are a few people in the pool already.

Asa only heats the pool for big parties.

Shit.

I spin around at the knock on the bedroom door. “Sloan!”

I rush to the door and unlock it, letting Asa inside. He’s smiling before he even makes eye contact with me. “Hey, future wife.”

Funny how what he deems a term of endearment can feel like an insult to me.

“Hey...future husband.”

He wraps his arm around me and kisses my neck. “I hope you got a lot of sleep last night, cuz you aren’t getting any tonight.” His lips drag up my neck and stop at the corner of my mouth. “Do you want your ring now or later?”

I fail to tell him I already looked at it, and that the ring just serves as further proof that he doesn’t know me at all. I tell him I want it now, because if I say later, that means he’ll make a big production out of it. That’s the last thing I want.

He reaches over to the dresser and grabs the box. He hands it to me, but then he pulls it back. “Wait. Gotta do this right.”

He lowers himself to one knee and lifts the box up, presenting the ring to me. “Will you do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Asa Jackson?”

Seriously? This has to be the worst proposal in history. If you don’t count the one he gave this morning right after he had his hand around my throat.

“I already said yes, silly,” I say to him.