Page 26 of Goldie and the Three Wisconsin Bears
It’s just an act. She’s just like Charlotte. Just like the rest of them.
And even if she isn’t, it doesn’t matter.
I ruin everything.
I glance down at my cock and find it fully deflated. Nothing like remembering you’re relationship kryptonite to kill an erection.
Two more days.
I rise from the bed.
It turns out I didn’t even have to worry about Mitch. When I get out to the hallway, his door’s wide open, which means he’s already up and at ‘em. I can hear Latin music spilling out of the kitchen. It smells like Nico’s making pancakes and bacon, which means eggs scrambled in salsa are probably also on the menu.
Breakfast of Champions. He hasn’t made that since we won our last game back in January. Guess the morning sex with Goldie was that damn good.
A toxic wave of jealousy washes over me as I shower. And instead of heading to the kitchen when I get done, I go the opposite way through the living room and leave out the front door.
I’ll grab a bowl of cereal later, I decide as I make a beeline for my shed. I can’t make it through another breakfast with the three of them.
It’s our day off, so I’ll catch up on all my administrative shit, like taxes and answering all these damn emails from my agent. I’ve been avoiding them, avoiding taking the next steps on my decision, even though I know I have to for Mitch’s and Nico’s sake. But now I’m like, bring that shit on. I’ll take emails from my agent, and whatever the fuck else will keep me out of the house.
However, I stop short at the sight of my shed in the distance.
The door’s open just as wide as the one leading into Mitch’s room.
What the hell?
That shed is full of expensive computer equipment. And Nico and Mitch know better than to ever go inside without my permission. Which I’d never give. I almost go back inside for my rifle.
But then I realize it’s probably not an intruder—at least not an unknown one.
The same person who broke into our house a week ago has made herself at home in my shed.
Fucking Goldilocks.
Fury overtakes me as I storm toward the shed.
Chapter Twelve
GINA
Hey Billie and Cynda!
Know I’ve been out of touch. Sorry! Decided to go to Canada to visit my aunt for a while. Will try to be in contact soon.
Love you two,
Gina
It’s been so long since I used my own name, it feels foreign as I type it out. And for a moment, I indulge in the fantasy of really being the no worries version of myself who made it into Canada. You know, as opposed to the desperate confused mess who had to establish a dummy Gmail account just to send this email.
I send the email off, then carefully shut out of the incognito window I used to create it. I don’t think Tommy’s tech savvy enough to track any emails Cynda and Billie receive. I also hadn’t dared to check my old email account. But I can imagine what’s on it. A wall of threats from Tommy. Which makes contacting my friends feel like a risk.
But I already canceled the last couple of group calls, and obviously, I wasn’t answering the phone I’d left back in Georgia. Billie and Cynda were probably worried sick. They were the only two people in the world who truly cared about me other than my dead mother. I had to let them know I was all right.
Which was kind of the truth. I mean, yeah, I’m confused as hell. And my emotions are a big ol’ mess. But the last five days with Nico and Mitch have been blissful. Zen-like gardening and cleaning all day. Mind blowing sex all night. It was one heck of a balm. I haven’t heard Tommy’s voice inside my head for days. And the high levels of fear and anxiety I’d been living with for the past three years have disa—
“What the hell are you doing in my shed?” Jeb’s voice roars behind me.
I jump out of the comfortable but huge ergonomic office chair and turn to face the incoming threat. This isn’t me being brave. I’d found out the hard way that you always want to brace yourself to get hit.
“I’m sorry,” I say as contritely as possible. Sometimes that worked with Tommy, defused him before he went off.
“This shed is off limits!” Jeb shouts.
“I didn’t know! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” I keep my head down, and I don’t look him in the eye.
Oh God, this is bad. This is really bad. If he hits me, it won’t be like with Tommy. Jeb’s so big. He could really hurt me. Hurt the baby.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” he demands. “Spying on us? Trying to get into our bank accounts?”
