“Thank you.” She kicked off her heels and began to unbutton her jeans. “But that has no bearing on what gender I prefer in bed. Whether I wear a good pair of Jimmy Choo heels or Nike sneakers doesn’t determine which genitalia I want in my face.”
I sat on the edge of the bed and watched her step out of her jeans and then pull off her tank top. She stood before me in a bra and lace thong, and oddly enough, neither of us seemed to care. “So what’s the plan. You just gonna hang out naked in my room to make her jealous?”
She grinned and pulled one of my T-shirts over her head. “I need a place to crash tonight. I originally hoped I could borrow your couch, but this seems like a way better idea. Trish needs time to cool off and realize I didn’t bankrupt us, and you need to teach little miss thing in there a lesson. So…right now, go take a shower, and make sure to slap the wall a few times for good measure.”
I raised a brow and contemplated her suggestion. “I like it. Make her think we’re getting dirty in the shower.”
She shoved me and rolled her eyes. “Hurry up. When you’re done, I’m going to need you to bring me food.” And with that, she reclined on my bed and settled into the pillows to watch whatever show was on the screen.
About an hour later, I left my room to get us something to eat. To my surprise, I found Janelle in the kitchen with a can of soda in her hand, as if she’d just pulled it from the fridge. I wasn’t sure where I expected her to be, or why I found it so uncomfortable to be in the same room with her, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was upset.
“Everything okay?” I asked while preparing to make a couple sandwiches.
“I thought we agreed to not bring anyone here.”
I couldn’t ignore the raw pain in her voice. It ran through me before settling in the center of my chest. When I turned to face her, I wished I hadn’t, because I was sure I’d never forget the betrayal in her eyes. “We did, but that was before you brought your boytoy here.”
“My what?” Her eyes narrowed and her top lip curled as if she just tasted something sour. “First of all, he’s not anything to me. Just because some show deemed us made for each other doesn’t mean I have any interest in dating him. The only reason I agreed to marry him was for the money. Nothing else.”
I faltered, unsure of how to proceed. Part of me didn’t want to believe her, because that would mean I’d perceivably broken our trust first, and the reason she appeared so broken was because of me. And those were two things I couldn’t accept.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered before turning my back on her.
Nothing else was said. The soft sounds of her feet padding down the hall were all I heard before the click of her bedroom door. Somberly, I finished making our sandwiches and went back to Veronica, where I confessed to feeling like a complete prick. Luckily, she knew most of the situation, and I filled her in on the rest, so she was able to give me solid advice. She did, however, pout about not being able to jump on the bed and practice her best fake orgasm noises. But I made it up to her by bringing her a glass of wine and talking to Trish on her behalf, getting her to agree to let Veronica back home in the morning.
6
Janelle
Warm light drifted through the slats in my blinds and woke me up. Like the last few mornings, it took me a second to figure out where I was, confused by the unfamiliar room. Though, unlike the previous mornings, I didn’t find myself consumed by determination. Instead, a deep sense of sadness filled me. A move originally meant to show Holden that I wasn’t a pushover and couldn’t be easily controlled ended up blowing up in my face. By telling him Connor had been there, I’d hoped it would’ve pushed his buttons, but not once did I think he’d get back at me by having a woman in his bed while I slept under the same roof.
I groaned and rolled off my mattress, realizing how pathetic I sounded—even to myself. I shouldn’t care who he had in his room or what they did behind closed doors. It had nothing to do with me. But that didn’t stop the pang of jealousy from forming within my chest. Veronica was gorgeous. Everything any sane woman wishes to be. I was sure I could’ve looked at her under a microscope and still not found a single flaw. Even her voice was the perfect pitch of sexy. Which made it so much worse. The least I could’ve hoped for was that she sounded nasally or whiny; that way, her sex noises would’ve offset everything else. But I was sure—even without hearing them—that her moans were symphonic.
While standing in front of the mirror hanging over my dresser, an idea smacked into me and left me winded, like the thought literally knocked the air out of my lungs. I remembered he had checked me out yesterday morning in the kitchen. I had no idea if Miss Perfection was still here or not, but I didn’t really care. Legally speaking, she was in bed with my husband. So really, she had no right to say anything…and if she had a problem with it, maybe it would push Holden to give in and sign the papers.
Not wasting a second, I shimmied out of my cotton shorts and exchanged my everyday panties for the cheeky pair no guy could resist. No matter what brand, this style made every shape of ass look good. And instead of the loose T-shirt, I settled on a cami—the kind without the built-in shelf-bra. I made sure my hair was brushed, but I still piled it on top of my head, giving it that “I don’t care” look. After one final glance in the mirror, I approved and set out to win this war.
I stepped out of my room and took the hallway like the New York Fashion Show runway. Ignoring the chill on the insides of my thighs normally covered by clothes, I put one foot in front of the other. And I didn’t stop until I made it into the living room, where Holden sat on the loveseat, his cell phone in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other.
Taking a seat on the couch next to him, I propped one foot on the coffee table and arched my back into the oversized pillows, reclining as though I were under the hot sun on a beach in a bathing suit. He glanced over at me and then turned back to whatever he had on his phone, but in a split second, as if my presence just registered to him, his body turned rigid and he slowly brought his attention back to me. It started with my exposed leg, where I watched him trace it with his eyes. His focus then settled briefly at the apex of my thighs before traveling north, taking a break to admire the obvious peaks on my chest due to the cool temperature he kept his thermostat set to. But rather than meet my gaze, he cleared his throat and took a sip of coffee, his attention back on his phone.
Taking matters into my own hands, I asked, “Veronica didn’t stay for breakfast?”
“Nah,” he answered without glancing up again. “She left about an hour ago.”
Well, that wasn’t the answer I’d hoped for. I wanted to hear him tell me how he’d kicked her out last night after our meeting in the kitchen. Then again, I wasn’t sure why I wanted to hear him say that. Nor did I understand the sense of jealousy I couldn’t shake. I told myself I wasn’t green with envy over them being together.