The door creaked open.
“Nathan?” Her voice was sugar, poured slow. “Are you sleeping, sleepyhead?”
She didn’t flick the switch. Just moved into the bathroom, water running, cabinets opening and closing.
From under the bed came a muffled, “Dude, what the fuck are you doing?”
“Shut up,” I breathed back.
The bathroom door opened, spilling yellow light across the floor. She padded toward my side of the bed and bumped into me. Froze.
“Nathan, move, this is my side.”
“Mm… round five in the morning,” I mumbled, letting my voice drag on purpose.
The mattress dipped suddenly, Devon’s weight shifting underneath just as she clicked the light on.
Her gaze locked on me first: naked, sheets barely covering my hips, pressed against her unconscious husband. Her eyes flickedto the clothes littering the floor. The trail. Then down to Nathan, his bare skin, the mark blooming on his neck.
Her face went chalk-white before flushing deep red. “Who the hell are you?”
I blinked at her, feigning confusion. “Oh shit. Are you his ex-wife?”
Her voice cracked. “Ex—? That’s what he told you? I’m his wife. Nathan, wake up! You piece of shit!”
Nathan didn’t stir.
Her hands curled into fists. “Oh my god. I fucking knew it! He was cheating….you fucked my husband, you-you little—.”
I smiled sweetly. “Please keep your voice down. He took something for his headache after all those rounds. Well, you know…”
Her voice went razor-sharp. “Oh, I know exactly why he’s got a headache. Because he’s a cheating asshole. And you—” she jabbed a finger at me, “you’re a fucking homewrecker.”
From under the bed, Devon’s low, “Jesus Christ,” was muffled by the mattress, but I caught it.
Her voice broke before it sharpened. “Have fun with him. He’s a cheating asshole!”
I smiled wider, slow and sweet, like this was all some private joke. “I don’t mind.”
That did it. A bitter, almost hysterical laugh burst from her before she spun on her heel. The hard crack of her heels hit the floor like gunfire, every step a countdown to the end of their marriage.
Then the front door slammed so hard the frame shuddered.
Silence fell… heavy, perfect. My heart beat steadily, unhurried. I’d done it.
I giggled. Couldn’t help it. He was mine now.
Dust shifted as Devon slid out from under the bed, crouched low like he wasn’t sure if I was dangerous or just deranged. His expression was pure disbelief.
“You are… completely fucked up, Ry.”
I stretched, letting the sheet slip just enough to make my point. “Worked, didn’t it?”
He blinked at me, almost stunned. “That’s… wow. That’s insane. Has he even fucked you yet?”
“Not yet.” I let the grin spread slowly, savoring it.
He gave a dry, humorless laugh. “God, I am so glad I’m not hung up on you anymore. You are fucking batshit.”
