Page 39 of Stud

What were the odds? Maybe there was destiny involved in our meeting. A reason we’d found each other. “Wild is an understatement. You know her well?”

“Just met a handful of times, but the girls are really close. I’m guessing Rachel doesn’t know about you, or she would’ve brought it up.”

I didn’t imagine Ainsley would have gushed to her friends about the gay man she fancied. What about now? I hadn’t told her about my divorce or why I was heading to D.C. If she confided in Rachel and they put two and two together, the things I’d avoided would sound way worse than they were. “Does Rachel know about my divorce?”

Jimmy’s nose was in his glass, his eyes closed as he inhaled his wine’s bouquet. He swished a sip around his mouth then swallowed. “No. She knows you were in a relationship and are single now, but nothing more. You’ve always been tight-lipped about it. Figured it wasn’t up for public discussion.”

I blew out a shaky breath. “Thanks. I haven’t told Ainsley yet.”

Emmett cleared his throat. Fixated on Jimmy’s revelation, I’d happily ignored my obnoxious brother. Or maybe he was ignoring us—his attention was lasered in on Cameron. “I’m gonna get the next round.” He scraped back his chair and strutted to the bar like he owned the place.

We watched him a minute. Emmett leaned his weight on the bar. Cameron looked shy as he smirked and rubbed the back of his neck.

Jimmy cocked his head. “Is Cameron gay?”

“Whatever he’s into, he has his sights set on Emmett. I warned him about Casanova already.”

“That’ll be interesting.” He turned his dark eyes on me. “Might not be my place to say anything, but if you’re into Ainsley, don’t you think you should tell her about your ex? Unless things are casual.”

I had no idea what things were with Ainsley. When we’d left the park to get her lunch, we fell into step. Our arms had swung in time, the backs of our hands nearly touching. I wanted to interlace our fingers, fold her small hand over my forearm and hold her close. Except I had no clue if Ainsley wanted that kind of affection. We often laughed. We enjoyed our time together. There was no doubt our attraction was mutual. But she was a free spirit who spoke her mind, and the pain she’d hinted at in her past could have soured her toward relationships. A hookup might be all she was after.

“It’s not casual for me. I’m really into her, but she works for a bunch of dicks who cheat on their wives, and I think she has personal experience with that hell. Not sure she’ll take kindly to my divorce details. Haven’t figured out how to tell her.”

A few people stood from their table and squeezed by us to leave. Jimmy pulled his seat closer. “I can’t help if I don’t know specifics.”

I’d already spilled all to Nana. I was ready to ignore my lawyer’s advice and get involved with a woman before the divorce was finalized. There was no point continuing this charade. Head bent, I laid out the gist of it. How Tessa had freaked when I told her I wanted out. That she blamed me. Claimed I was having an affair. My anger and irritation rose with each word.

I’d picked apart our relationship countless times since it had unraveled. We’d met at college. She was beautiful—blond hair and red lips and full of confidence. I was away from home, missing Nana and Emmett, even my soccer team. Feeling at loose ends. Like I was a kid again, left to fend for myself. I got wrapped up in Tessa quickly. Her friends became mine. We spent our free time together. I proposed before we graduated, didn’t hesitate moving my life to be with her. I craved building my own family.

That should have been my first clue things would fall apart. When I’d bring up kids, she’d sidestep the conversation. Her work hours extended. My job sucked. We’d fight. I wound up feeling more alone and discarded than I had since I’d stopped searching the beach for broken glass. Now here I was.

Jimmy finished the last of his wine. “Tessa sounds like a wack job.”

“Vindictive, yeah. It’s how she’s been so successful at her firm. Thing is, Ainsley might not believe I’m innocent in all this. Since Tessa’s spinning nothing but lies, and the divorce has to end sometime, I figured she didn’t need to know yet.”

He drummed his thumb to the music, nodding. “Just be careful. I won’t say anything to Rachel, but you need to get this sorted before it bites you in the ass. And where the hell is your brother with our drinks?” He nudged his empty glass aside.

Another glance at the bar showed Emmett punching something into Cameron’s phone, his number likely. Cameron was still smiling shyly, his hand lingering on my brother’s as Emmett returned the cell. “Looks like drinks might be a while. But yeah, I’m trying to organize some face time with Tessa. That’s why I’m heading to D.C. tomorrow. I’m hoping to talk some sense into the woman. Get our house sold and the papers signed.”

“Sounds like an upward climb. I’d love to go out soon, though. With Ainsley and Rachel, when you’re back.”

Ainsley and Rachel. Still couldn’t get my head around that. “We’ll make it happen.”

As long as Tessa didn’t fuck everything up.

Eleven

Eleven letters to describe a knife or chisel’s concave bevel. Or seeking release when your hunky crush is MIA.

H O L L O W G R I N D

Ainsley

I didn’t normally walk through life disoriented, barely able to coordinate my shoes with my belt, but yesterday’s make-out session had rendered me intoxicated. Trapped in an endless state of horny inebriation. (Blue Bunny would need a heart transplant soon.) I couldn’t stop imagining the situation going on below Owen’s T-shirt. There was an undiscovered world under those wash-worn threads. He was a cityscape unto himself, all stacked bricks and polished marble. Miles of real estate to explore.

I was also dying for him to tug my hair harder and kiss me rougher, his thighs chafing mine as he thrust his length into me, but I found myself picturing other things, too. Us waking in bed together—those lazy mornings where you’d stretch and touch in the soft place between wakefulness and dreams. I’d always found that time intimate. Vulnerable. Sheets would rustle. Legs would tangle. Contented sighs would whisper along warm skin.

Missing that bond and imagining it with Owen had trepidation tapping restlessly in my chest. I wanted that connection with a man. Wanted it with Owen, specifically. But I was nervous. Scared to walk that open road again. Owen seemed perfect, but there was no such thing as perfect. Perfect usually came with secrets and skeletons in closets. Or I was just wary of repeating my mistakes. Which meant I needed a diversion.