Roommate Arrangement (Divorced Men's Club #1)(72)

“Mistake? You think doing the same thing for two whole years is a mistake?” The burning rage I’ve felt since the separation is bubbling up inside me again. He’s trying to draw it out. Trying to force an argument that might escalate to makeup blow jobs like it often has in the past.

But that will never happen again.

And maybe I wouldn’t be so strong if I didn’t have Beau, who knows? But I also think he’s onto something with letting people help where they can, and the thought of him has never been more welcome.

“All I’m asking is that you give me a second chance. That we work on things. Don’t throw away twelve years together and make me out to be the bad guy when you’re not exactly innocent in all this.”

“Work on things?”

“Yes.” Kyle pushes to his feet and takes a tentative step forward. “I’ll delete my account, and we’ll go to counseling. I want to try. Maybe this had to happen so we’d take this time to miss each other and remember what we had.”

Is he … holy shit, he’s serious. I’m suddenly very, very grateful that I haven’t seen him before this moment because I know there’s a small part of me that would have agreed. That would have done what I needed to make this mess go away.

“Let’s say we did take each other for granted. Let’s say the romance was dead and we didn’t show each other the attention we once did. What then? We go to counseling and I spend that time learning how to trust you again, while you … what?” And suddenly, the calm I was feeling snaps. “Fuck our counselor?”

“Baby—”

“Don’t baby me. Maybe we were shitty to each other, but I’m not the one who slept around with other people. I’m not the one who went back on our vows. And I’m not the one standing here and trying to blame you for the shitty thing I did. There isn’t enough money in the entire fucking world that would entice me near you or your cheating ass ever again.”

His bottom lip trembles.

“Save it.” I pull out my pen and shove it into his hand. “Sign the goddamn papers. There’s no point in us talking anymore because you’re clearly set on trying to save something that no longer exists.”

Kyle sniffs but thankfully doesn’t fight me. He pulls the papers toward himself and signs the marked spaces. “All I wanted was an adult conversation.”

“Here’s an adult conversation for you. If you’d asked me before you started all that shit, we could have done it together. Who knows? Maybe it would have brought us closer, maybe we would have ended up right back here anyway. But if you ever date someone again, I hope you’ve learned your lesson, otherwise you’re going to end up very alone.”

Kyle rolls his eyes. “Like you can talk. Might want to remove that stick from your ass if you ever want to be boyfriend material.”

I take the paperwork and tuck it under my arm before he can think to change his mind. “I dunno, I think Beau likes the stick I have shoved up there.” I wink. “It’s easier to fuck me with.”

I turn on my heel and leave, and as I reach the front door, I hear him say, “If you mean Beau Rickshaw—”

The front door slams behind me, cutting off his words and that chapter of my life.

It might have been petty, I might not have handled that the way I wanted to, but damn it felt good.

And now I can finally move on.





30





Beau


When I get home, a little tipsy, and Payne still isn’t there, the worry kicks in again.

I remind myself of what Marty said, of why I like Payne and the fact he’s a good person. The best person. And those kinds of people don’t mess with others’ feelings.

Especially not after what happened to him.

But when you’re boning with a mystical creature, i.e. The Perfect Man, you find it hard to believe. And damn am I finding it hard. When I look in the mirror all I can see is a neurotic mess who’s in his midthirties and hasn’t even begun to get his life together.

Sure, I have money, but the rest of my life is a mess. Whereas Payne has his shit together, emotionally and mentally, which is the kind of headspace you can’t buy.

And I know that because I would have by now if I could.

Money means nothing; character means everything. And when it comes to character, Payne has me beaten by a mile.

I flick the lights on inside, rather than open the curtains. It’s late afternoon, so it’s still light out, but I want to block out time until Payne is back and I get some answers.

Then I spot something that clears the worry like nothing else has.

A little yellow crane.

It’s perched nonchalantly on my desk, exactly where Payne would have left it if he wanted me to see it first thing, and if I hadn’t woken up so late, I would have.

I pluck it from my desk and immediately check the wing, finding five words in his handwriting.

You deserve everything and more.

That’s positive, right?

The door clicks open, and when Payne walks in, I have to resist the urge to fling myself at him. I’m feeling needy and hopeful, and I have no idea where I stand. My hands are turning the crane over and over, and I can’t stop. The last thing I want to do is immediately launch into quizzing him about how it went, because I’m not sure if I’m supposed to know.