I’m happy, too... When he first discovered Jill had affairs, he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel happy again—outside of his career, at least. But he was. He enjoyed his quiet life, hanging out with Bryce and coming to his restaurant. “I have a few minutes. I’m at work and need to head back out there. What’s going on?”
“Well, the past few years have been really hard on me. I’ve been going through a lot of changes and reevaluating my life.”
No shit. He experienced that with her. And wait, did she say hard on her? She hadn’t been the one to find out their spouse was fucking other people, one of them long-term. “Try experiencing it from my side.”
She sighed. “I’m trying to do something important here, Nick. This isn’t about you, it’s about me.”
That sounded familiar. Everything was always about her. “You have about three minutes, Jill.”
“My therapist says it’s a good idea to confront people from my past. To tell them how I feel—how they’ve hurt me and how I’ve hurt them.”
Wait. “How I hurt you? What did I do to you?” He’d loved her, taken care of her, worked his ass off for their future.
“Are you really asking me that? Were you not there for our marriage?”
There was a spike in his pulse, but not the good kind. Nick squeezed the phone in his hand to keep from throwing it. “Yeah, I was. Were you? You’re the one who went out and fucked other men. I was there, not you.”
“You weren’t really there, Nick. I should have known you’d do this. You won’t even try to understand!”
No, he wouldn’t. “I have to go, Jill. Have a good night.” Nick hung up, but his anger didn’t simmer down. His whole body got hot, his jaw tense. Who the fuck did she think she was?
***
It was nine o’clock, and Bryce hadn’t left the shop yet. He knew if he did, he’d drive himself crazy. He wouldn’t be able to chill out and relax until he spoke to Nick again. Christ, he’d never been like this. It was the not knowing that got to him the most—not knowing what to do, or if they would keep going.
He’d always just sort of let things roll off his back, whatever happened, happened, but as hard as he tried, he couldn’t keep that attitude where Nick was concerned.
He wanted to keep the man as a friend, but he wanted to fuck him, too. Every time he thought of that, he got a headache and his dick got hard. Talk about conflicting emotions.
So instead of going home and driving himself crazy, he drove himself crazy at the shop instead. He decided to take apart a motorcycle because that would distract him better than anything else could.
When he heard his phone vibrating against the table, Bryce wiped his hand on his jeans and picked it up to see a text from Jamie. Tell Mom you’re gay and not giving her babies with Christi yet?
Bryce rolled his eyes. Shut up, fucker.
At least tell Mitch. It’s killing me.
Not as painfully as I’ll kill you if you don’t shut your mouth.
There was a pause before Jamie texted again. I’m giving you shit. Just checking in. Everything good?
It was better than good. Hell, all he’d done was rub and jerk off with Nick and he’d come harder than ever. Bryce didn’t think his brother wanted to hear that, though. He definitely didn’t want to hear about Jamie and Hope. Good. Figuring shit out. Quit being nosy.
That was the end of the texting. That was Jamie. He’d probably lost interest already and found something else to occupy his brain until Bryce popped into it again.
Bryce’s thoughts didn’t stop with the end of their texting, though. He knew he needed to talk to his mom. Even if he didn’t drag Nick into it—which he probably shouldn’t since they didn’t even know what they were doing—she deserved to know about Christi. That he’d been lying to her about their relationship.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Nick was fucking exhausted. After he’d gotten off the phone with Jill, they got slammed with two large parties. He’d been running around like crazy, and trying not to be pissed at his ex-wife at the same time. All he wanted to do was climb into bed and pass out. He didn’t have the energy to fumble through he and Bryce tonight, but since he told Bryce he’d come, Nick figured he owed him to at least stop by.
Nick’s fist came down lightly on the door. Almost instantly he heard, “Come in.”
He slid the door open to see Bryce sitting on the couch with his feet on the coffee table. He wore sweats and nothing else. His hair and chest were wet as though he’d just gotten out of the shower.
