Next to Never (Fall Away #4.5)

“GlenDronach,” he ordered. “Neat.”

The bartender walked away, and I continued my work, stealing a glance at the table and seeing his wife still talking to the older man.

“A job?” Jase asked. “Kat, if you need more money—”

“I don’t need more money,” I shot out under my breath. “Jesus.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

I calmed my temper and kept my voice low. “I wanted to take classes during the day, so I’m looking for an evening job.”

He moved a few inches closer. “You shouldn’t get an evening job,” he told me. “If you go to school and work, Jared will never see you. And if you work nights, when am I supposed to spend time with you?”

The bartender approached again, and Jase straightened as he accepted his drink.

“I’ll have them add it to your dinner bill, Mr. Caruthers,” he said, glancing between us as I put my head back down.

“Thank you.”

When the bartender was gone, I peeled my tongue off the roof of my mouth, growing bolder.

“Tell her you’re taking your son to the park and come over to my house,” I replied sarcastically. “Our boys can play while we screw upstairs.”

He slammed his drink down, making my pulse quicken. “Knock it off.”

“Just go back to your dinner,” I bit out under my breath and then looked to the bartender. “Excuse me, may I have a rum and Coke, please?”

“Coming up.”

I didn’t like Jase making demands on how my life would go. He was getting what he wanted. What did he care?

And for that matter, what did I care?

“I don’t want you drinking alone. You’re upset.”

“I’m not upset.”

I was jealous.

I pushed the paper and pen away and grabbed my purse. “I’ll be right back,” I told the bartender.

I hurried to the other side of the restaurant and down the hallway, toward the restrooms. But before I could escape, Jase caught my arm and spun me around, backing me into a dark corner.

“I’m sorry.”

I snickered, stuffing the pen in my purse. “The first of many apologies, I’m sure.”

So this was going to be my life. Would it be worth it? Up until a few weeks ago I hated my life, and I struggled, but I liked who I was. Now, everything was the complete opposite.

How does one man make that happen?

“Is this how it’s going to be?” he challenged. “We’re going to run into each other in public from time to time, Kat. You have to be able to handle this until I get everything sorted out. I will do right by you. I promise.”

I tipped my chin up, steeling myself. “She’s beautiful.”

“Don’t.”

“I should’ve known she’d be beautiful,” I went on, laughing at myself. “Your car, your suits . . . You like to put on a nice sheen for everyone, don’t you? So they don’t see how much you like to play in the dirt.” And then I cocked my head at him. “Do you have sex with her?”

He stiffened, his eyes like blue fire.

“Can I have sex with someone else then?” I asked, trying to sound innocent. “Someone to keep me entertained when you’re not around?”

His jaw flexed as he regarded me. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

I stared into his eyes until my own burned, and I couldn’t look at him anymore. What was I doing? My life was about me and my son, and now, as the days went on, it was increasingly about him.

Jared had to be in bed, because Jase was coming over. I couldn’t date men and bring them to the home another man paid for. Sometimes I waited for hours for him to show up, and sometimes he never did. I couldn’t call him at work, and I couldn’t call him at night. I couldn’t leave messages, and he couldn’t take me out in Shelburne Falls.

How was I supposed to be important to him when we weren’t growing into anything more than what we were?

“She wasn’t real to me before,” I said calmly. “She’s real now. You take her out, she has your name . . .” I raised my eyes, meeting his. “I didn’t want to be this woman. The stupid girl from the wrong side of the tracks, thinking her rich lover was going to save her from the trailer park. I didn’t want you, and then when I did, I didn’t want strings, and you’ve bent me every time I tried to resist. Guys like you never leave your wives, and I’m an asshole for wanting you to.” A thousand pinpricks hit my throat, and I had to pause so I wouldn’t cry.

“No.” I nodded. “We fuck, you pay the bills. That’s really what our arrangement is, isn’t it?”

“That’s not how it is,” he implored, taking my face in his hands. “I will leave her.”

“If that were true, you would’ve done it already. And how fucking awful am I if I want you to do that to her?”

“It was going to happen with or without you,” he said, holding my gaze. “The state of my marriage isn’t your fault.”

I wanted to believe that. But this was a slippery slope.

There was a thin line between an affair being easy or it being disastrous. If you had two people who wanted sex or companionship, a little variety, per se, and you both had a lot to lose, then you had a mutual understanding of what was expected. But . . . and here’s where shit often hit the fan . . . someone inevitably fell in love.