Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
ROMAN
“We’ll both have a slice of double chocolate cake and cup of coffee, please,” my dad says as he hands the dessert menu back to the waitress. She turns to me for confirmation.
“Just the coffee for me, thanks.”
She waits a beat before letting us know she’ll be back shortly, then walks away.
“When was the last time you had your eyes checked, son?”
“You mean since I had LASIK a year ago, which gave me 20-15 vision?” I ask wryly. “I see perfectly fine, Dad, you know that.”
“Huh,” he says, rubbing his chin with a finger. “It’s just that our beautiful waitress has been giving you the green light all through dinner, and you’ve barely spared her a glance, much less asked her when her shift is over, so I thought your eyesight must be failing you.”
“Maybe I’m growing up,” I offer absently as I check my phone for anything that might give me an excuse to derail this conversation from where it’s headed. An important work email would suffice, but I’d rather have a text from Addie.
“Or maybe,” he continues, “you only have eyes for one woman in particular.”
And there it is. I’ve been waiting for him to get around to this all evening, so he’s not getting the “oh shit” reaction I know he was going for. Instead, I arch a dubious brow. “Don’t you think I would have told you if I was dating someone?”
“Not if you or that someone didn’t want people to know you were dating.”
I’m not used to keeping things from my dad—we’ve always been close—but this secret doesn’t affect me. It affects Addison. So until we discuss it and she says she’s okay with him knowing, I won’t break her confidence. But I also won’t outright lie to my father.
“Women enjoy what I can give them short-term, but they typically don’t see me as the kind of guy they want to be in a relationship with.”
My dad laughs. “You’re speaking in circles and saying a whole lot of nothing. You should know you can’t bullshit your old man, Roman. If you’re not dating Addison Paige, I’ll eat my tie.”
I shrug a shoulder. “I suggest the gray one with puce stripes. That thing’s revolting.”
His smile is wide, and his blue eyes dance with amusement at my deflection. “All right, kiddo, have it your way. I’m going to go take a leak before dessert gets here. Maybe when I get back you’ll be ready to tell me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, eh?”
Chuckling at his own lawyer humor, he places the cloth napkin on the table and pushes up from his chair.
As he passes me, he claps me on the back affectionately.
Keeping my relationship with Addison from him didn’t really bother me until now, facing him in person.
I can tell he liked her, and after the way she handled herself today, I know he respects the hell out of her.
His impression won’t change just because we’re dating, especially since he already suspects us.
I’ll talk to Addie this weekend about telling him.
It’ll be a relief to get it out in the open, plus then I can call Rhona.
She lives a couple of hours away, but we’re pretty good at keeping in touch.
I’ve been putting off talking to her because my sister can get anything out of me, but she can’t keep a secret for shit.
She would’ve gone straight to Dad with it.
The realization that I want to tell my family that I have a girlfriend—something I told them they’d never hear from me—is astounding in and of itself.
I haven’t used that term since high school.
The most committed term I’ve used in adulthood has been “fuck buddy” whenever I met a girl who enjoyed the same sort of casual arrangement I did.
Like friends with benefits, except they were more like acquaintances.
We’d fuck regularly for a few weeks, or even a few months, but that didn’t mean that we were exclusive with each other, and there were certainly never any feelings involved.
Things usually ended naturally and amicably.
There were only a couple of times when the girl started to want more, the big hint being that she wanted to stop inviting a third into the bedroom and have it just be us.
Ironically, once they asked for more, they ended up with nothing.
That was my cue to end things and move on.
From the very beginning, things with Addison have been different.
Even with the “fuck buddy” women, eight times out of ten we had a third with us, and the times we didn’t were usually because they were quick, spontaneous fucks.
My point being that if given a choice, I preferred ménage and kept the one-on-ones to a minimum.
But whenever Addison and I have sex alone, I never feel like I’m missing an important component like I did with other women.
Sex with her consumes my every thought. My focus is entirely on her and her pleasure, how she feels in my arms or wrapped around my waist. The times we invited Austin to play were a bonus, not a necessity as it’s been in the past.
And there’s something else that sets this relationship with Addison apart.
Something I haven’t wanted to analyze because, frankly, what it might mean isn’t something I’m ready to face quite yet.
There’ll be plenty of time for that after I get through formally introducing her to my family as my girlfriend.
My phone rings, breaking me away from thoughts of inviting my dad and Rhona to my place next weekend so they can get to know Addison. I frown, wondering what Cooper needs. I’d asked him to come out to dinner with us, but he said he had to work late.
“Yeah, Coop, what’s up?”
“Actually,” he says with a sigh, “I’m not even sure I should be calling you. It could be nothing.”
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. “What’s going on, John?”
“Understand that I’m only doing this because if it is something, I think it’s better for everyone involved if it’s dealt with now rather than later. And remember not to shoot the messenger, okay?”
Jesus Christ, I don’t even want to speculate what he’s about to tell me.
Cooper’s holding a grenade with the pin already pulled, and all I can do is sit here in this crowded restaurant and wait for him to lob the thing in my direction.
The waitress returns and sets out my dad’s cake and our coffee.
She asks me if I’ll be needing anything else, but I don’t even look at her so she leaves.
“John,” I bark, garnering a side-eye from the couple at the next table over.
“You told me Addison wasn’t going with you because she was meeting her cousin for dinner, right?”
Acid churns in my gut at the mention of her name, and my hand cramps from the white-knuckle grip I have on my cell. “Correct.”
“Unless she’s related to Massey, she lied to you, man.”
Why the hell would she be out with Austin? “Where?”
“Starbucks. I decided to take a break and get some fresh air and a sandwich, and that’s when I saw them.”
“Are they still there?”
“Yeah, man.”
“Show me.”
“Roman—”
“Show. Me.”
Sighing, Cooper agrees and hangs up. Seconds later, he tosses that grenade at me in the form of pictures sent to my phone, and my stomach drops.
They’re sitting at a table small enough that their knees touch underneath, and their knuckles practically graze each other where their hands are cupping their drinks.
Anyone who sees them would think they’re a happy couple enjoying a cozy conversation and overpriced coffee.
The look on Austin’s face is one of reverence, and it reminds me of something he said to me just last week.
I’d invited him to my place, and we spent hours exploring all the ways we could make Addie come.
When she was completely spent and sleeping soundly in my bed, Austin and I grabbed a couple of beers and drank them on my balcony.
He asked me what my intentions were with her, and I’d shrugged off the question with some non-committal comment about having fun and not worrying about the future.
Austin didn’t say anything, and I’d assumed that was the end of it as we drank our beer in silence.
But several minutes later, he said, “Be careful, bro. Eventually, Addie’s gonna want more than just ‘having fun,’ and if there’s any part of you that wants more, too, you’d better make your intentions known.
If you don’t, someone else will. She deserves more than just fun, Roman. You both do.”
“If you don’t, someone else will.” Jesus fucking Christ, had that been a warning?
A clue that he wanted to be the one to give Addison more?
I know Austin is like Chance in that he’s always planned on eventually settling down with the right woman.
If he’s set his sights on Addie, I sure as hell can’t blame him.
Any straight man who knows her and doesn’t want her is suspect in my book.
And I was the one who told him we were just having fun, and brought him into our bedroom on multiple occasions, so I don’t really have a leg to stand on when it comes to the loyalty argument.
I let out a dry, cynical laugh. The joke is on me because that “other thing” I mentioned earlier that I don’t want to analyze? It’s the fact that as time’s gone on, it’s become harder and harder for me not to get jealous and possessive anytime Austin’s been involved.
That I never invited anyone but him was telling enough.
It never mattered before who the other man was—it could even be someone the woman knew.
I didn’t care as long as I was in charge.
But whenever I’d think about anyone other than Austin touching Addison, even Liam, jealousy raged like a charging bull inside my head.
Then recently, I’ve started entertaining the idea of quitting ménage completely with her.
I’m not sure if it would work, or if I’d eventually need it again, but the way I’ve been lately, I’m more than happy with just the two of us.
So of course, now that I’ve fallen for a woman I’ve considered giving up ménage for, karma takes it as the perfect opportunity to fuck me in the ass.
I was the one who introduced her to the experience, showed her how amazing it is to have more than one man get her off, and it blew up in my goddamn face.
I almost wish I hadn’t answered my phone. Then I wouldn’t know that Addison is secretly meeting up with my best friend; the one who’s been inside of her, the one who knows what she sounds like when she comes, the one who knows what it feels like to have her body squeeze him to completion.
If I hadn’t asked for proof, I wouldn’t have the image of them together burned on the backs of my eyelids.
But then I also wouldn’t know that I’ve been fooling myself, thinking that what I have with Addison is enough to make us exclusive.
Or as exclusive as a couple who’s enjoyed having sex with a third can be.
I knew something was up when she lied about that text message a couple of days ago.
Her ringer had been on silent, but when I saw the screen light up from the corner of my eye, it was automatic to look for her.
It didn’t bother me that Austin texted her.
They’re friends now, and it’s not like I hold exclusive conversational rights to the guy, for fuck’s sake. No, it wasn’t that.
First, it’s that Addison changed the settings on her phone so that it only displays the contact name in the notification instead of showing the first lines of the message itself, which is how she’s always had it, same as me. But now the messages are hidden until she actively opens the app.
Second, and more importantly, she lied to me.
I’d asked her who it was, pretending I hadn’t seen Austin’s name already.
I told myself there was a reasonable and appropriate explanation.
All I had to do was ask and she’d give it to me.
Not all lawyers have the best morals, but Addison and I are both firm believers in being honest in all we say and do.
At our cores, we feel that truth always prevails, which is why we pursued careers in law to begin with.
And yet she stared right into my eyes and lied.
Even so, I’d stuffed the doubt to the back of my mind.
I came up with reasons why the settings on her phone might be changed—everything from a glitch with an update all the way to maybe she’d caught Martin or someone else in the office looking at her screen and wanted more privacy—and felt more the fool for doing it. Especially now.
But the text and phone settings are moot points, because the truth of the situation is staring at me from the screen of my phone.
Another text comes through from Cooper, this time a video.
I want to watch it as much as I want to drop my phone into my water glass and walk away. But of course, I watch it.
Austin must be rocking his Southern charm act.
Her smile is radiant, and she’s laughing at whatever he’s telling her.
Every so often her eyes and mouth open wide in surprise before she goes back to being happy.
As if all that isn’t bad enough, now he places a hand on her arm and says something with an expression of sincerity…
and she blushes. Fucking blushes. Just like when I whisper nasty things in her ear while we’re in public, or I undress her with my eyes during a meeting at work.
This is a double betrayal, and I’m not sure which is worse. The one from a man who’s been my best friend from the time we were fifteen, or from the woman I fell in love with, who I thought might love me, too.
I’m so lost in thought I don’t realize my dad is back until he’s taking his seat. “You should quit your side job,” he says, picking up his fork to dig into the cake. “Then you wouldn’t have to turn down the more decadent things in life at the risk of going soft in the middle.”
If he only knew how soft I’d gotten. I’d let Addison soften my heart. So much that it didn’t even put up a fight when she ripped it from my chest.
“Dad, I have to go. Something came up.” He looks at me from over the rim of his coffee cup, and I push on before he has the chance to examine me like I’m on a witness stand. Rising, I say, “Thanks for dinner.”
“It can’t be that urgent. Sit down and drink your coffee, son.”
I shake my head. “Another time.” Then I turn on my heel and get the hell out of there. Coffee is the last thing I want right now. I want a bottle of whisky and time to think.