“You’re really throwing that in my face right now?”

  I frown, because I actually wasn’t but clearly his guilty conscience is showing. “I’m not throwing anything in your face, Parker.” I’m leaning over the railing of the patio with my back to the lounge when I sense someone in my space. I turn to the right to see Jacob now leaning over the balcony as well, his forearms resting on the bar. “Why are you getting so defensive?”

  Great, just what I fucking need. “Maybe we should just talk in the morning,” I say before he can respond, not wanting to allow Jacob any further glimpses into this view of our relationship.

  “I thought we agreed you’d call me when you got home tonight.”

  I suck in a breath before letting it go slowly, trying to calm my irritation. “Yes, of course. I’ll call you when I get home.”

  “Fine. I love you,” he says and the habit of always saying it before we get off the phone is the only reason I say it back because quite frankly I’m annoyed as hell at how he’s treated me all night.

  “Love you too,” I tell him before hanging up the phone. I don’t look at Jacob, whose gaze I can feel on mine. “Don’t say anything. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He doesn’t say anything at first, he just gives me a second to calm down I assume. But then he begins to speak, his voice low and gravelly and seductive. “So, let me get this straight, he cheats on you, I need some context on that by the way, and from what I’ve heard in just a few moments of conversation he also seems to be giving you a hard time for what? Living?” He faces me. “Typically, when one person cheats, they don’t have a lot of room to make demands. Usually, the wronged party is the one demanding everything short of a lie detector when the other party gets home.”

  I don’t say anything and when he grips my chin and brings my face toward his, he cocks his head to the side.

  His large, warm hand on my face makes my skin tingle. I used to love his hands on my face. He’d hold it when he’d kissed me. Stroked my cheeks. Wiped my tears. It used to be my weakness and evidently it still was because my knees buckle slightly. “Whitney, what’s going on? Why… just why?”

  I pull away from his grasp and take a step back. “He said he was sorry… it was a mistake and that it wouldn’t happen again.”

  He runs a hand through his hair. “I need more than that. What happened? And how do you know it’s not happening wherever he is right now?”

  The thought had crossed my mind, but I was choosing to trust him. “It was earlier in our relationship. We’d only been together about three months. I ended it for a little bit and he begged, groveled, he sent flowers, cards and gifts.” I wave a hand toward him as if to say et cetera. “You get it, I took him back on a trial run.” I chuckle. “He became this perfect guy. It truly was just a stupid drunken mistake. He was in Vegas. Bachelor party. You know how it is.”

  “Can’t say that I do. I went to three bachelor parties while we were together and I distinctly remember demanding nudes from you every four hours. So don’t hand me that drunk mistake bullshit because I could have been so drunk I didn’t remember my own name, but I damn sure always knew yours.” My heart flutters at his words and I shake my head trying to rid myself of the high that my entire body feels hearing his words. “So okay, you took him back, you forgave him. How long after that did he propose?”

  “Ummm we’ve been together about a year and a half total. So, it’s been a little over a year since that happened?”

  “He slept with her?”

  I nod.

  I notice that he balls his hands into a fist and anger flashes over his features. “You deserve better than that. Better than this.”

  “What’s better…? You? Is that where you’re going with this?”

  “Yes, Whitney I am. You know it and I know it.” I was not expecting him to say that. He pins me with a stare, his blue eyes boring into mine and I feel like I’m frozen in this spot. I lick my lips, and his eyes trace them before he lets out a groan.

  “Stop doing that.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Fucking hell, Whitney. You’re giving me all the signals. The lip biting, and the playing with your hair and just the way you’re fucking looking at me. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”

  His words are biting and his tone is harsh and I feel them all over my skin. He rubs his beard and I clasp my hands together so I don’t reach up and run my fingertips over his sharp jaw.

  “I told you I love you.”

  My heart skips a beat again hearing those words come from him. I rub my chest, trying to calm the erratic beating just beneath the skin. “It’s unfair of you to expect me to say it back when I’m with someone else. Jacob… it’s too late.”

  “Why? No one is married yet. You can still change your mind; the question is do you want to and I think you do.”

  “There’s that arrogance again.” He doesn’t respond, he just lets out another sigh and leans over the railing. “I should go.” It’s getting late and while I haven’t necessarily consumed more alcohol, I feel my inhibitions lowering. I don’t know if it’s in response to my irritation with Parker, Jacob’s revelations or the combination of the two but I hear Chloe’s voice in the back of my head telling me to take a step back before I do something reckless. “I’m going to get an Uber.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll take you home, Whitney.”

  “Okay but you can’t come in…”

  He doesn’t look at me, he just continues to stare out into the night. “Are you telling me that or yourself?”

  “You.” I answer with as much conviction as I can muster though a part of me believes I need convincing as well. Maybe I don’t need the temptation. “I could just go home with Chloe…”

  “You and I both know Chloe is going home with my brother.” He laughs.

  “Well, they could drop me off on the way, Chloe wouldn’t just leave me.”

  “I said I would take you,” he counters.

  “I just don’t want to inconvenience you.”

  “Doing something for you is never an inconvenience.” I melt and I try to hide the smile but he notices it and his lips turn up in what I assume to be triumph.

  Trey and Chloe had long been ready to leave and I was able to convince Chloe that I didn’t need to be chaperoned and that she and Trey could leave to get their more intimate reunion underway. We parted ways under strict instructions from Chloe to drop me off and for me to call her when I got in the door. The ride back to my house was quiet which I could only attribute to the mounting tension between us and I was trying my best not to fixate on it.

  “Are you happy to be home?” I ask and Jacob’s eyes pull away from the road briefly to look at me.

  “We’re doing the small talk thing?” I see the humor in his expression but I can also hear the sarcasm in his voice. I confessed my love for you, you haven’t responded and you ask me that?

  “I… was just trying to make conversation.”

  “I’m happy to see you. Even if you don’t share the sentiment,” he says. “And even if you are engaged to someone else,” he adds.

  I need to get out of this car right now. My hands twist in my lap as I try my best to calm the nerves that are whispering in my ear to reach for his hand on the gearshift. To run my fingertips over his knuckles like I’d done a hundred times before.

  “You’re nervous,” he adds when I don’t respond. “I’m not sure if I’m happy or annoyed about that. You’ve never been nervous around me before, but part of me believes it’s because of what you still feel between us.” His hand moves from the gear shift and before I can blink it’s resting on my thigh.

  Push it off. Push it off. My mind is screaming at me to remove his hand, but I can’t. It feels warm and strong and it looks sexy as hell wrapped around my thigh. He squeezes it gently and my sex pulses in response. “I—” I start, not even knowing what to say before closing my mouth. His touch feels dangerous but safe and wrong but right and I’m struggling with all of the conflicting feelings fighting for control. “I feel like you’re trying to break me. You’re not playing fair.”

  “I never agreed to play fair. Another man asked you to marry him. As far as I’m concerned, he declared war on me first. And you know what they say about love and war.”

  “But what about what I want? You’re acting as if I don’t have a say.”

  “If I truly believed that this Parker guy is who you wanted, I’d leave you alone.”

  I feel like I’m holding my breath for the rest of the ride back to my house. My emotions are running high and I feel like the second I exhale; I’m going to shatter into a million confused pieces. As soon as we pull up in front of my house, I’m out of the car before he has a chance to try and open my car door for me or any other seductive chivalry, he may have up his sleeve.

  “Thanks for the ride.” And I try to ignore the innuendo my mind conjures.

  “For you? Anything.” Fuck. That dimple appears and I feel myself getting weak in the knees.

  I almost close the door before I open it back again.

  “I am happy to see you, JP” I don’t wait for his response before I close the door, but I definitely do not miss the smile on his face before I turn toward my house.

  My dick is hard as fucking stone. I don’t think it’s ever been this hard. Not since Whitney rubbed her sweet little ass against me for the first time nearly five years ago. She’d been trying to tease me. Entice me into fucking her. I had been trying my best to exercise restraint when all I wanted to do was pin her to her parent’s couch and feed her my cock. Of course, at the time, my best friends, her parents were just upstairs. She’d been determined that night. Her hands touching every inch of me like I belonged to her. But I couldn’t touch Whitney. It was sick that I was even considering it, but with every sigh that left her lips and the sexy shy look that crossed her face, I found my resolve weakening.

  I slam the door of my house so hard it rattles the bookshelf in my office just off the foyer. Books fall to the floor but I can’t be bothered to care as my only concern is wrapping my hand around my dick like a horny teenage boy. I’m unbuckling my pants before I even get to the chair in my office knowing exactly what the fuck I’m looking for. I drop my pants to my ankles just before I sit in my office chair and power up my laptop, finding the photos in the locked file on my computer. The photos that I had deleted numerous times but could never bring myself to permanently delete from my computer’s recycling bin once they were in there. I tried to delete them after we broke up, part of me flooded with guilt for keeping these photographic memories of her. Proof that we’d been together. Proof we’d been real.

  Photos of Whitney. Some clothed some not so clothed. Whitney sent me pictures of herself constantly. If I was away on business or even just at the grocery store. She’d once sent pictures of her fingers in her cunt just before I’d gone into a three-hour surgery leaving me with a hard-on for ninety goddamn minutes.

  “Fucking hell, Whitney,” I grit out as my hand finds the base of my cock and I drag it up to the top. “Fuck, I missed you so much.” My dick twitches at the same time my heart begins to pound in my chest as the thoughts of her taking me back begin to fester.

  Thoughts of her showing up at my door and telling me that she loves me are all I can think about as I begin to move my hand faster. My dick gets harder thinking about her lips. Those full pouty lips wrapping around my dick, sucking my balls into her mouth, or pressing her lips to mine. I open the folder and the first picture that pops up is a picture of the both of us. It was probably about a year into our relationship and we’d flown to Aspen for the weekend. The plan was to go skiing but we never made it out of the room. We’d made love in front of the fire countless times and watched as snow poured just outside the window. The picture is of us kissing. You can tell we’re lying on the bed, pillows behind our heads and that we’re probably naked given that our shoulders and upper chests are bare. Her hand is resting on my cheek and both of our eyes are closed. Despite not being able to see our eyes, we looked happy. Happy and fucking in love.

  How did I give this up?

  I let my hand fall from my dick, that’s soft and suddenly angry at me for taking me on this particular trip down memory lane and not one of the many others that would provide a visual of me fucking her ass for example. I drop my head into my hands when my phone buzzes in my pocket indicating a text message. I contemplated ignoring it, thinking it’s probably Trey or maybe my college fraternity group chat which has its intermittent moments of activity on random Friday nights. I pull it out of my pocket and I’m pleased to see the name and message on the screen.

  Whitney: It was good to see you.

  I smile because unfortunately for her, I still spoke fluent Whitney Monroe, and this was more than just the words on the screen. I smile before giving her a cheeky reply.

  Me: So, you said when I dropped you off.

  Whitney: Don’t be an ass.

  My smile widens.

  Me: My apologies. Why are you still awake? I assumed you’d be asleep once you were in range of your bed.

  Whenever Whitney had been drinking, the second she got home she’d be knocked out. There were nights she barely got undressed and even more nights I’d take her makeup for her when she was already asleep because she’d drunkenly passed out before she had a chance to get ready for bed.

  Whitney: I’m not that drunk. And just worked up, I guess.

  Me: About what?

  I have a guess but I want her to say it. I want her to admit she still feels the spark between us. That this isn’t easy for her either. Something. Fucking anything.

  Whitney: Don’t you have like twenty-five years of schooling and a medical degree? Can’t figure that out?

  Me: I want you to say it. I don’t want to assume.

  Whitney: You, alright? Seeing you was… exactly what I expected and somehow, I wasn’t prepared for it.

  Still not exactly what I was looking for, but we are getting somewhere.

  Me: I don’t know what to say to that

  Whitney: Parker is a really nice guy.

  This joker again. I don’t respond, hoping she’ll expand on her comment or even if there’s a ‘but’ coming.

  But I don’t love him.

  But he doesn’t look at me the way you do.

  But he’s bad in bed.

  Something.

  Whitney: When I said I would marry him, I meant it. But I’d be lying if I said, you showing up doesn’t change things.

  Me: You wait until we’re apart to want to have this conversation? Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?

  Whitney: I couldn’t do it in person. I’m not a coward but it’s hard to say these things to your face. While you kept looking at me… like… well you know how you were looking at me.

  I want to at least call her and hear her voice, but if she’s feeling skittish, I don’t want to break the spell of honesty she seems to be under right now.

  Whitney: I don’t know what to do.

  Me: Then you shouldn’t be getting married.

  Whitney: Of course, that’s your response.

  Me: That would be anyone’s response. Marriage is serious and if you’re going in with doubts or concerns about anything let alone about things regarding you and me, then it’s not right to get married. It’s not fair to you or to him, all things with me aside.

  Me: Not that I’m particularly concerned with his feelings for what it’s worth.

  She doesn’t respond so I nudge her gently.

  Me: What are you doing tomorrow?

  Whitney: I have a paper due Tuesday.

  Me: Can I see you?

  Whitney: I don’t think that’s a good idea.

  She doesn’t ‘think’. I can work with that.

  Me: I’ll be at your parent’s house most of the day. Maybe you should come by if you need a break?

  Whitney: I’m surprised you’re not already there. My parents really missed you. They didn’t make you go back over? haha

  Me: Surprisingly no. I think Miche passed out and Kevin stopped answering soon after I left earlier.

  Whitney: I’ll think about it. When are you going?

  Me: Early afternoon. The game starts at noon.

  Whitney: I’ll see.

  Don’t press her. This is progress.

  Me: I look forward to maybe seeing you.

  Sweat pours from me as I go into my third mile the following morning. I barely slept a wink all night, despite the exhaustion from traveling I couldn’t fall asleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Whitney and her fiancé kissing, touching and it made me fucking irate. I slow to a jog, stopping a few yards shy of a main intersection with cars zooming by. I begin to pace around the stop sign, thoughts of Whitney taking over again. I’d always been a runner, having played soccer in high school, college and in several recreational leagues post-graduation. After I left for Mexico, I’d started running non-stop to try and clear my head of thoughts of Whitney. It was the only time I felt free of the regret I had over leaving her.

  This time however was different. The run did nothing but made me conjure about a hundred different scenarios over how the next few months would go. Would she marry him? Prolong the engagement until she figures out what she wants? Date us both? Break up with him and be with me? Start another affair with me behind his back? Tell me to fuck off? I used to so in tune with Whitney and now I had no idea what she was thinking. The three years apart had changed more than just her relationship status and it pissed me the fuck off.

  I run a hand through my hair before raising the T-shirt I was wearing up over my brow to wipe the sweat. My heart rate is starting to slow as I begin walking back toward my house when my phone begins to ring through my AirPods. I pull the phone out of my pocket and I’m not surprised to see it’s Kevin.

  “You coming over for breakfast?” Kevin asks before I even say hello. “Michelle’s making waffles and I may have already started drinking mimosas.”

  I look down at my Apple Watch that I use when I’m working out to track my miles and I see it’s only eleven. I assumed we’d be drinking but I wasn’t thinking he’d be starting without me or even before the game was on. “Already?”