Page 21 of Fury
“I slept with the fighter.”
“Oh, you lucky bitch.”
“Jorja, I slept with him after sleeping with Donnie a few nights ago. I’m literally a whore.”
“A single whore,” she says on a yawn.
“I don’t think Donnie will see it like that.”
She sighs heavily. “Look, have you actually said the words out loud to either of them? Have any of you established any kind of relationship?”
“No, but I’m the kind of girl who expects a man to be one hundred percent faithful once I’ve had sex with him. I’m a hypocrite.”
“If no one said the words, you’re all good.”
I scrub my hand over my face. “What do I do now?”
“Enjoy the rest of the night with the fighter.”
“I can’t do that, Jorja,” I say, groaning.
“Why the hell not? If you’re gonna waste a perfectly good man, send him my way.”
“Can we just be serious for one minute?” I snap.
“Which one do you like the most?”
“We’re not in primary school,” I argue.
“It all comes down to who you like the most, Xanth. Pros and cons to eliminate the loser.”
“It’s not as simple as that. I have a history with Reese. Unfinished business.”
“And Donnie?”
“He’s a gentleman. Kind. He paid for our entire night and insisted I invite you guys to join us.”
“He is rich,” she adds. “What’s the fighter’s bank balance like?”
“I have no idea,” I snap, “and it’s not about money.”
“Okay, who was the best in bed?”
I groan louder. “I’m disconnecting now,” I singsong, ending the call.
I brace my hands against the sink and stare at myself in the mirror. “Get it together, you slag,” I whisper. “You’ve done it now. It’s how you handle it from here.”
I go to my room and pull on a set of pyjamas before heading back downstairs where Donnie is standing by the worktop. I stare wide-eyed, glancing around for a sign that Fury is still here. He smiles wide. “I called up to you, but it sounded like the shower was running.”
The lump in my throat threatens to choke me as I try to form a sentence. “How did you . . . erm, how did you get in?”
“The front door,” he says, smirking. “Like I said, I called up to you, but you didn’t hear me. You should have that locked at all times, baby. Who knows who’ll walk in.”
“Right,” I mutter, nodding. “Drink?” He nods.
I spot the two glasses on the worktop and immediately throw a tea towel over them, realising it’s the towel Fury used to clean up the mess we made. I glance back to where Donnie is sitting, his arms resting on the worktop I haven’t yet cleaned properly. I wince, feeling mortified.
I grab two new glasses and pour whiskey into both, knocking mine back in one and topping up again.
