CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“You’re not having breakfast with us?” Seth asked loudly as I hurried past the kitchen to the front door.
I rolled my eyes.
I used to think audacity was something you had to invest in, but it turned out that some people were just born with it.
Case in point, Seth.
The nerve of him. Why would I want to have breakfast with him and his girlfriend?
“No, sorry,” I replied as calmly as I could. “I’m running late.”
I hurried to grab my keys from the entryway table, yanked open the door, and was almost home free when a hand clamped down on my wrist.
As if burned by the touch—or maybe it was reflex, I wasn’t sure—I yanked my wrist from Seth’s grip and turned to glare at him.
“What?” The question was out of my mouth before I could stop it, voice dipped in irritation and dripping with disdain.
I didn’t want him to touch me, but I also didn’t want to piss him off, either. Seth was seriously unhinged. I saw that now.
After turning my phone on to text Declan I’d arrived home safely, Seth’s messages finally came through.
All one hundred and thirteen of them. They were all the same, ranging from demanding to know where I was, to pretending to be out looking for me, to threatening to call the cops and telling them I was missing. And on and on it went.
He cocked his head to the side, eyeing me intently. “What was that?” he asked.
I schooled my features as best I could, softening my tone. I didn’t have the time or the energy to fight with him right then. I was already running late.
“What was what?” I asked nonchalantly.
“That reaction just now. You just…” he narrowed his gaze, “shook off my hand.”
“No, I didn’t. You just… startled me, is all. ”
“Is that so?” He lifted an inquisitive brow. “That’s all it was, just a reaction to being caught off guard?”
I plastered on a smile I didn’t feel. “Of course. What else would it be?”
He frowned. “What time did you get in last night?”
“I’m not sure,” I lied. “My phone died, and I didn’t get to charge it until I got home. Then I fell asleep before I could check for any missed calls or messages, so I wasn’t sure of the time.”
“Oh.” He brightened, posture loosening.
Then I realized why he seemed so relaxed all of a sudden, as though he hadn’t incessantly messaged me all of last night and well into the morning.
I’d just told him that I didn’t check my messages, so he thought I hadn’t seen them.
When in reality, I saw everything and even took screenshots of his erratic behavior.
I didn’t know why I took those screenshots, but something deep inside told me I needed to, and I was glad I’d listened.
Because when I woke this morning, Seth had deleted all the frantic messages he’d sent me, making it seem like he’d never sent them to begin with.
And because I told him I hadn’t checked my phone, he thought I hadn’t seen them, and that everything was normal—that he was normal.
He smiled, all rakish charm and razor-sharp bite. “How was your date?”
I shrugged, aiming for disinterest. “It was okay.”
“Just okay?”
“Well… yeah.”
He glanced wryly at me from beneath his long lashes. “Do you plan on seeing him again?”
I frowned. I didn’t ask Seth about his dating life—another one of those rules we’d agreed on—so why was he asking me about mine?
“Well,” I said calmly. “We don’t inquire about each other’s dating life. Those were your rules, remember?”
His expression turned blank, and he fixed me with a hard look. “Is that right?”
My spine snapped straight, and I lifted my chin in defiance. “Them’s the rules. The same ones you set and have been living by for months now.”
“I see.” A muscle worked in his jaw, and his expression grew even harder. “Did you fuck him?”
“That’s enough, Seth!” I said firmly. “I don’t ask you about your dates, so you don’t get to ask me about mine. Living single while married, right? Those were your words, correct?”
He took a step closer, but I held my ground. He wasn’t trying to intimidate me. At least, I didn’t think he was. But he wanted to throw me off my guard. Everything was a fucking game with Seth, and I was tired of it.
Realizing I hadn’t backed down, he smiled, then gently brushed a lock of hair out of my eyes, tucking it behind my ear—his fingers lingering.
My skin crawled.
“Relax, babe,” he cooed. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe and that he didn’t force you into something you didn’t want. I’m still your husband, remember? Your safety will always be my concern.”
I ground my molars together and swallowed the reply that was struggling to break free. Which, by the way, was a gargantuan fuck you.
“Daddy,” came Lacey’s voice from behind him, and he dropped his hand from my face just as Lacey rounded the corner and stopped right next to him.
“Oh, hi, Melodie. I didn’t know you were still here.
I thought you’d left for work already.” She flashed me a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“You wanna join us for breakfast? I made blueberry pancakes, Seth’s favorite. ”
With much, much effort, I tore my angry gaze away from Seth and leveled it on Lacey.
She blushed.
“Thank you,” I said tersely. “That was kind of you to offer me breakfast in my own home. But I’m afraid I’ll have to take a rain check. I’m running late for work.”
“Come on, Mellie,” Seth chided. “Lacey was just trying to be a nice houseguest. There’s no need for the attitude.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake, I was allergic to blueberries, and Seth knew that. Though he was starting to compete for the top spot of things that were bad for my health.
I fixed the aforementioned angry gaze on him again, and he scowled.
“No, hon, that’s okay,” Lacey interjected, running her hands up and down Seth’s forearm in an attempt to ‘soothe’ him, a smirk appearing at the corner of her lips.
I mentally rolled my eyes. And maybe a little bit outwardly too.
“Melodie’s right,” she continued. “She’s late for work, and here I am, being inconsiderate and offering her breakfast. I’m sorry. I just wanted to do something nice for you since you’re letting me borrow your office space.”
And my husband, I thought. Though she didn’t need to say that part out loud, it was heavily implied.
Quite frankly, they could have each other. They were cut from the same messed-up, manipulative cloth, and I certainly wanted no part of it.
I flashed her a smile that was even less genuine than the one I gave Seth. “Thank you for your thoughtful consideration, but I truly must be going now.”
And with that, I turned on my sensible two-inch kitten heels and headed for my car. I really wasn’t lying about being late.
I’d managed a two-hour nap after I got home, and while I had woken up early enough to get to work on time, I was still nearly ten minutes late. I glanced at my watch—fifteen now, since that last five minutes were spent having the most useless conversation of my life.
I didn’t know what kind of mind games Seth was playing, but I was not amused. And I especially did not want to play these ridiculous games with him.
Maybe I should start looking into cheap apartments, or ask my coworkers if any of them need a roommate.
I made it to the school just in time to witness Emma ushering a handful of students into the classroom, and I was glad I’d had the forethought to text my teaching assistant, informing her of my possible tardiness, and asking her to greet the parents for me until I got there.
What I didn’t tell her was the reason for my late arrival. Which was embarrassing, to say the least.
I hadn’t had sex in so long that every inch of my body ached in the most delicious way.
Declan wasn’t exaggerating when he said I’d have trouble walking come morning.
And I was struggling. Heck, getting in and out of the shower was a feat in and of itself.
And it took me fifteen minutes just to get into my bra. Fifteen. Hence, late.
I didn’t even do anything with my hands or shoulders last night, so why were they so sore?
A few of the parents and their kids—also running late—trudged along behind me as I speed-walked to the front door of my classroom.
The door swung open, and Emma gave me a warm smile, then promptly took my bags, bringing them inside the classroom with her, so I could greet my remaining charges unencumbered.
Moments later, he was in front of me, and all the oxygen left my lungs.
Orla, having greeted me with a tight hug and a high-five, had long disappeared into the classroom, leaving her uncle and me standing there and staring awkwardly at each other.
What did you say to a guy after a long night of wild, monkey sex?
I opened my mouth to speak when Declan leaned in, so close I could smell his aftershave.
“Are you sore?” he whispered.
I swallowed wrong, hacking and coughing so hard, I damn near coughed up a lung.
Declan gently patted my back while pretending he had no idea why I was choking on air instead of using it to fill my exhausted lungs.
As the coughing subsided, I glared up at him, and Declan threw his head back and laughed at my—obvious—pitiful expression.
Apparently, audacity grew on trees when it came to the male population, because this one had it too, just of a different variety. But unlike Seth, I actually adored Declan, so everything he did was especially appealing to me. Specifically, the way he utilized his tongue.
I shook my head to dismiss the creeping inappropriate thoughts and gazed up at my boyfr—
Whoa!
Was I about to call Declan my boyfriend? Since when did I start thinking of him as my boyfriend? Sure, I was fond of him, and I really liked him. But… boyfriend?
“So…” Declan hedged, breaking me out of my wandering thoughts. “Can I see you tonight?”
I smiled. “I’d love to, but I have that meeting with the school’s administrator I’d told you about.
It’s tonight…. Well, technically, it starts an hour after school ends, but it usually runs way into the night because there’s just so much to discuss.
” I shivered at the phantom ache in my ass, at the remembered hardness of the auditorium’s steel chairs we were made to sit on for hours at last semester’s meeting.
“Anyway,” I added, “I’d love to spend more time with you, just not tonight, okay? ”
Declan smiled and nodded graciously. “I understand. Just text me whenever you get the chance, and I’ll answer no matter what I’m doing.”
I smiled back at him. He was so sweet and sincere that I struggled to understand why he wasn’t already snatched up by some lucky girl. Instead, he chose to be interested in me. Me. The woman with the most baggage in the world.
I cleared my throat and answered solemnly, “I will. I’ll text you every free second I have, I promise.”
“I’ll keep one eye glued to my phone,” he promised, and handed me Orla’s lunch and book bags, his fingers lingering against mine longer than was probably appropriate given the setting.
Then he winked and backed away slowly.