How many women had Logan calling them in the morning and hassling them about the Kingmaker?
I sighed. “We’re not barreling through kids to get a book, Logan.”
“Eh, sometimes the bookstores sell out before the lines finish. If we don’t get there in time, we may miss it.”
“Would you relax?”
“I love kids, but if they get in between Mulligan and me, I’m punching a few of them.”
“Bye, crazy.”
“Bye, Mia.”
He hung up and I stood there holding the phone and savoring the way Logan said my name. Why did he have to say it that way? Like he was rubbing his cock when he spoke it. Like he moaned my name late at night while he jacked himself off to thoughts of me.
Logan is the other problem. Damn it. There were so many reasons why Tyson and I were never going to work. I knew it from the beginning and kept fighting against it. Why? So stupid.
Well, I wouldn’t be stupid anymore.
Today would be the first day of getting it together.
And what will I do about Logan?
Again, one should never lust after their boyfriend’s best friend. But Logan had been a major player in all my steamy, secret dreams. A man I crushed on so badly at times I thought there was something wrong with me. A man who kept my panties wet whenever he was around. A man who was my boyfriend’s best friend and therefore completely off-limits.
Logan dripped sensuality and I didn’t think any woman was immune to him.
Here I am worried about Tyson messing around with my friend, and I’ve been masturbating to his friend for the past months. How stupid is this whole situation?
But, I had no more time to think about any of it.
Time to break up with him.
3
A Bad Gut Feeling
Mia
My boyfriend—the current problem and possible cheater—Tyson stood directly behind me. “So, Logan and you are doing something?”
I faced him. “We’re going to get the new Kingmaker book.”
“Hmmm.” Frowning, he pulled me close to him and wrapped his huge arms around me.
It was the most awkward hug of my life.
“Good morning.” he kissed my forehead.
Tensing, I kept my arms to the side and didn’t hug him back.
“What’s wrong?” He leaned a way and stared at me.
I left his arms. “We have to talk.”
“About what?”
“About us. I’ve been thinking that—”
“Not right now, Mia.” He kept that neutral mask on his face that he’d been wearing more and more each day. “We can talk tonight, but right now don’t you think you should get to Logan?”
“Yes, but—”
“And I just had a bad morning.”
“Why?”
“I had a nightmare about my aunt. She was dying in my arms.” He rubbed his eye as if a tear was threatening to come out. “I’m just feeling so depressed right now.”
I tapped my phone and searched his eyes for any possible bullshit.
Is this for real or not? What if he really is mourning? Then, what type of person would I be?
If he really was battling depression, the last thing I wanted to do was tell him he was faking it. I’d battled anxiety for years and still dealt with it every now and then. Depression was real and crushing. It came swift like death, darkening the soul and crumbling the heart.
He whispered, “I woke up wondering...why are we even on this planet to begin with?”
I said the only thing that came to my head. “To love and...live.”
“But why?” His phone rang. “Hold on.”
He walked over to grab his phone, frowned at the screen, and turned the ringer off.
“Who was that?” I asked.
He looked surprised. Usually, I never inquired about who called him.
My brother had a motto:
“If you think you must investigate a guy’s phone, then break up with him. It doesn’t matter, if he’s cheating or not. You don’t trust him.”
“It wasn’t anyone.” Tyson shrugged those muscular shoulders. “It was a wrong number.”
The phone loudly vibrated as the person called back.
Is that Ashley?
I gestured to his phone. “Maybe you should tell the person it’s a wrong number.”
“Yeah. That’s what I’m going to do.” Annoyed, he walked out of the bedroom and answered the phone in the hallway.
I leaned in, listening. He must’ve been wise to that because his footsteps sounded farther away, and then I heard the front door open and close.
We’re done. He’s clearly on some bullshit, and I’m not into him anymore anyway. What the hell am I doing? Get some balls and end this!
I knew that no matter what, we were breaking up today. I didn’t care if his mama and grandma died right in front of him this afternoon, he had to get out of my place and mourn somewhere else.
Something was happening around me, something wrong, something that made me feel slimy just from being around him. My gut said it, and it was time to stop second guessing that sensation moving inside of me.