I was her rebound.
And standing in front of me is the person she was running from—her husband.
I latch onto Kate’s arm and pull her through the house, ignoring my name being called. Pushing through the glass door, I stomp toward the car, getting in the driver’s seat and roaring the engine to life.
“Noah, calm down,” Kate begs, motioning for me to get out of the driver’s seat. “You can’t drive. The last thing you need is a DUI on record.”
I tell her to get in and shut the fuck up, my anger fueling me to leave this place and everyone behind. There’s banging on the window, Morgan desperate fo
r me to open. But I refuse. Placing the car into gear and slamming my foot on the accelerator, I drive down the hill almost taking out a few statues.
“Where are you going?” Kate cries, holding onto the handle while I skid out of the property.
“Anywhere but here.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Noah, you need to stop.” Kate pulls the shot out of my hand, drinking it herself. She lets out a loud rasp, cursing like a drunken sailor.
“I don’t need to do anything…” I slur, dipping my hands into the peanut bowl and eating the urine infested nuts. They taste crunchy, with a slight tang.
She tells the bartender to stop serving us, and he happily obliges, warning me several times to calm down or my ass will be on the pavement. Fucking dickhead.
“She’s fucking married, Kate… and with a kid,” I shout for the millionth time.
“I know, Noah. I was there.”
“Married, with a kid,” I repeat, running my hands through my hair as I close my eyes. “It makes sense, all of it. I’m so dumb. I was too caught up to see what was really going on. I’m just some secret affair to her.”
“I don’t think it’s just that, Noah. Maybe there’s more—”
I turn my head swiftly, eyes blazing at Kate. “Wait, you’re defending her?”
“No,” she says, raising her hands in frustration. “I’m not defending her. But maybe there’s something missing here. She doesn’t strike me as someone who would have an affair and jeopardize her family.”
“Yeah, and you don’t strike me as someone that enjoys lesbian anal fisting,” I say, monotone.
With her mouth gaped open, she quickly tries to cover it up. “What makes you think that?”
“I accidentally saw it on your phone when my battery died and we were shopping. I needed to check the Lakers score.”
She coughs, beet red, unable to speak clearly. “It was for research purposes.”
“That’s what they all say. I’m not judging you. If you want to get fisted in your ass by another girl, then so be it. And hey…” I say with a devilish smile, “… I’m free now so I’ll book courtside tickets.”
“Ha-ha,” she responds sarcastically. “Stop saying ‘fisted.’ It’s weird.”
I jump off the stool and grab her arm. We need to get out here. Now.
“Let’s go home,” she says, defeated, dragging her heels.
“Only if you’ll fuck me.”
She shuts me down immediately. “No.”
“C’mon, I just need... you know—”
“You want a rebound. Someone to take your mind off her?”