The Bromance Book Club (Bromance Book Club, #1)(15)

“D-did you—” He cut himself off. Blinked. Swallowed. “Did you have an orgasm?”

Thea tried to smile but couldn’t.

“Oh my God,” he breathed, stumbling back. “You’ve been faking it.” A statement. Not a question.

Thea swallowed. “What? No, I haven’t.”

His face transformed into a mask of such hurt and betrayal that she reached for him. He stumbled away from her. “Don’t lie to me, Thea. How long have you been faking it?”

“Gavin . . .”

“How fucking long?” He yelled in a voice so un-Gavin-like that she jumped. Thea grabbed her jersey from the floor and pulled it back on. The shimmery illusion of the past couple of hours was quickly fading, revealing it for the mirage that it was.

At her silence, Gavin planted his hands on his head. “Have you always faked it?”

There was no point in lying. And dammit, she was sick of lying, anyway. Sick of wearing a fake smile. Sick of pretending things were fine. Sick of fucking faking it. “Always?” she snapped. “No. Not always. Just since the girls were born.”

“That’s our entire marriage!”

“Yeah, it is. How the hell did it take you this long to notice?”

He stared at her and, without another word, stormed into the guest room. He never returned to their bed.

What else was it that Gran Gran used to say? If a man wants to leave you, wave goodbye and lock the doors. You’ve got better things to do than chase a lost cause.

Thea did have better things to do. Like finish her degree. Rebuild the career she abandoned for Gavin’s. Raise strong, confident daughters. And never, ever again be so stupid as to trust her heart to a man.





CHAPTER FIVE




By Monday morning, Gavin didn’t think he could get any more depressed. But then someone knocked on the door of his hotel room at eight in the morning and he realized how wrong he was.

Because standing on the other side of the door was Book-Boner Braden Mack.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Is that any way to talk to a friend who brings you coffee?”

“You’re not my friend. You’re a pain in my ass.” The coffee sounded good, though, so he stepped back and let Mack in. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m waiting for Del.”

“Why?”

“Because we have work to do.” Mack tugged a paper cup from the cardboard drink carrier he was carrying. “I got you a pumpkin spice latte. With cinnamon sprinkles. Seems like your speed.”

Gavin turned away with a grimace and an obscene gesture, but the need for caffeine overruled his pride. He flipped open the tab on the plastic top and took a sip. An explosion of flavor brought his feet to a halt and a moan from his mouth. Sweet holy coffee gods. This shit was delicious. It was a liquid pumpkin pie. Why the hell hadn’t he ever tried this before? No wonder women drank this shit.

Mack grinned. “Right? I love these things.”

The door vibrated with another insistent knock. It was Del, who barreled inside with an expression that said he wasn’t in the mood for bullshit. “You better have coffee for me,” he barked.

Mack pointed at the drink carrier. “Pumpkin spice latte, just as you ordered.”

Gavin’s mouth dropped open. “You drink these too?”

Del dropped unceremoniously into a chair by the window. “I love them, but I’m too embarrassed to order them for myself.”

Mack plopped down on the couch and kicked up his feet. “Don’t be ashamed for liking them. The backlash against the PSL is a perfect example of how toxic masculinity permeates even the most mundane things in life. If masses of women like something, our society automatically begins to mock them. Just like romance novels. If women like them, they must be a joke, right?”

Gavin blinked. “You sound like Malcolm.”

“I’m not just a pretty face, man.” Mack set down his coffee and stood. “Point me to your clothes.”

Gavin choked into his cup. “Why?”

“We have to pick out what you’re going to wear for the school musical tonight.”

“You’re here to pick out my clothes?”

“Among other things,” Del said.

Mack marched to the single closet across from the bathroom and yanked open the doors. “Dude, this is sad,” he said, shoving several hangers aside. “This is all you own?”

“No, shithead. Most of my clothes are still at the house.”

“Well, I can’t work with this. We might have to go shopping.”

“I am not going shopping with you.”

“Toxic masculinity,” Mack tsked.

Del let out a sigh like a beleaguered bus driver who still had three hours to go on a field trip. “I could be home making love with my wife right now.”

Mack and Gavin both whipped around with a yell.

Del shrugged. “She was willing. She tried luring me back into bed—”

Mack covered his ears. “Not in front of the children!”

“Then behave!” Del barked. He pointed at Mack. “Stop insulting his clothes and find something. And you.” He pointed at Gavin. “Let’s hear it.”