Tony even liked the way I didn’t go out all the time, that I only had Summer in my nonexistent circle of friends and would rather have a night in with good food and a great movie than go to a bar or club. He used to joke that I was a cheap date but would follow it up with how much he liked how chill I was, how it made our nights out more special, made my secret wild side more exciting.
None of those things used to bother Tony, but now it’s all he talks about.
“It’ll be fine, Sum,” I say more to myself than my best friend. “Tony will be thrilled that I showed up a day early, I just know it.”
Another dramatic sigh. “I hope you’re right, Theo. If that jerk is anything other than thrilled, you need to end it right then and there. Cut your losses, go home and get drunk, then call me and we’ll talk about how disgusting it is when Tony openly picks his nose or how unsexy it is when he keeps his socks on in bed.”
“It’ll be fine,” I giggle because those things do drive me crazy. “I’ll text you later, ok? I’m pulling in now.”
“You better,” Summer grumbles. “I’ll have my wine chilling just in case.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too, Theo. Good luck.”
I press the button on my steering wheel to end the call and take a deep breath as I pull into the parking garage underneath Tony’s building.
“Everything is going to be great.” I force a smile as I try to convince myself the feeling of doom in my stomach is actually just excitement over seeing my boyfriend for the first time in a month.
A few minutes later, with my bag and Tony’s cake in hand, I’m riding in the elevator to his penthouse apartment, so close to freaking out I might actually turn around and go home now.
Which is silly.
Everything is fine.
Tony is home, I saw his car in the parking garage, and when we talked a few days ago he said he was going to grab a drink with his coworkers then come home to relax before I arrived tomorrow afternoon.
I smile as the elevator opens on his floor.
Tony is going to be so surprised.
He’ll be excited to see me, happy I’m here and we’ll have a perfect night of delicious devil’s food cake and very bland sex, but we’ll be together and that’s all that matters.
This is going to be great.
I use my key and let myself into his penthouse, ignore the mess of shoes and suit coats scattered along the foyer, then head into the kitchen to set down the cake, but stop dead in my tracks.
Tony is in the kitchen.
He’s in the kitchen, but he’s not alone and he sure as hell isn’t eating dinner.
Nope, my boyfriend of six years is kneeling on the floor with his face between the thighs of a pretty brunette, one whose skirt is pushed up to her waist, her blouse unbuttoned to reveal big fake boobs spilling over the top of a lacy bra. Tony isn’t wearing anything but his dress socks and whitey-tighties while he goes to town on another woman’s vagina, the sounds of their mutual enjoyment making me sick to my stomach.
I blink, then do it again, and when I’m about to open my mouth to ask what in the ever-loving fuck is going on, a totally naked and fully erect man comes strolling down the hall with lube in his hand and party hat on his head.
What’s funny about this entire thing?
I can’t get over the fact that Tony is going down on who I now see to be his legal aid, when in almost six years he’s maybe gone down on me a handful of times because he didn’t think it wasappropriate.
“Drop your pants, Tony, I’m about to rock your... Theo!” The man, also known as Damon Howe, Tony’s partner at the law firm, gasps.
My now ex-boyfriend’s head shoots up from between Marion’s legs, his face shiny and flushed, eyes wide as dinner plates. “Theo?!”
Marion rolls off the counter and drops behind it as Damon runs her way, his not-so-impressive boner now out of view. I stare at him for a minute before my gaze swings back to a very obviously turned on, but still shitting his pants, Anthony Hill.
“Theo, cupcake, it’s not what it looks like.” Tony takes a few steps toward me, his hands raised to keep me calm. “I can explain.”
I tilt my head to the side, my eyes moving from Tony to Damon, then the top of Marion’s head, but I don’t speak. Nope, I just motion for my lying sack of shit ex-boyfriend to try to explain away what I just walked in on.
