Breathe Out (Just Breathe, #2)(146)

“Calm down? Calm down?’ he repeats. “You want me to be calm? I can’t be calm after finding out my boyfriend is cheating on me and my best friend just dumped a hundred dollars down the f*cking drain.”

“You’ll thank me for it later,” I challenge.

“No. I need it! Get off of me,” he presses sternly.

“You need it?” I question with surprise.

He’s more drunk than I realized.

“Yes, I need it!”

“Fine,” I retort, pushing him away as I let him go. “Fine. Go get your precious whisky.” I stand up, moving away from him. “I can’t believe you lied to me! Go. Leave. Go get your whisky, but don’t you dare come back. Ever! You got that?” My heart catches in my throat as the words spill from my lips. It pains me to threaten him.

Jared’s expression changes from rage to fear. “Kitten . . . Kitten, I’m so sorry,” he wallows.

“Don’t you dare,” I charge. “Don’t you dare. You swore to me,” I remind, fighting back my own tears. “You’re lucky I’m even talking to you right now.”

The two times I’ve seen Jared drink whisky, they were not good. He changes — becoming mean, irrational and aggressive. The first time, he attacked someone else. The second — he came after me.

“Kitten,” Jared pleas. He curls into me. “I’m so sorry, Kitten. I’m sorry I lied. Please . . . forgive me. I can’t lose you too.”

My arms drape around him, sensing that he’s truly sorry. We stand holding each other for a while until I’m able to guide him to the couch. I sit first, allowing him to snuggle into me. He wraps his arms around my torso as he places his head on my chest. We don’t say anything as he wallows in pain and sorrow. My fingers run through his hair, trying to calm him until he’s ready to talk.


“What happened?” I ask once his tears subside.

“He’s cheating on me,” he sniffs.

“How do you know?” I coax.

“I went to surprise him tonight . . . I didn’t care if he had to work . . . at least we’d be together,” Jared begins. “I even brought his favorite work snack . . . chocolate covered pretzels . . . but, he wasn’t there.”

“Why do you think he was cheating?”

“I saw him . . . .” Jared sobs.

“You just said . . .” I begin.

“When I was leaving,” he shares. “I was in the lobby, just leaving the building and saw him getting into a cab with the black haired guy. You know, the one with the tattoos.”

“You mean Robby?” I check.

“Yeah, him,” Jared verifies.

“They probably had to go meet with someone . . . .”

“Don’t defend him,” Jared argues.

“I’m not,” I counter.

“I know what I saw,” Jared continues. “I saw how they looked at each other.”

“Maybe you misinterpreted it,”I suggest.

“No,” Jared objects.

“Robby may be into Nathan and most likely Nathan is oblivious, especially with how focused he’s been . . . .”

“Stop defending him,” Jared snaps.

“Okay,” I reply. “I’m sorry.”

I let the topic lie for now, realizing that it’s too raw for Jared aside from the fact that he’s still drunk. We stay on the couch for some time and I continue to run my fingers through his hair like I’ve always done to calm him. Sadie gets off of our laps at some point and goes into the bedroom.

Jared looks to me and offers a half-hearted smile. “You can come out now, Joe,” he calls.

My hand freezes in Jared’s hair. “What are you talking about?”

“I know you’re here,” Jared adds, staring right at me.

“Hey,” Joe greets from behind me.

“What the f*ck?” I shout. “Joseph!”

Jared’s eyes lift. “Hey, man.”

“Hey,” Joe replies.

Laughing, Jared asks, “How long has she called you Joseph?”

“Only when I’m in trouble,” Joe reveals, sitting on the coffee table.

“How often are you in trouble?”

“Not that often,” Joe shares. “Just once or twice.”

The two of them greet each other warmly as I sit in complete shock. I get up and head to the kitchenette, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and pour myself something to drink — wine, I need wine. Jared and Joe are close on my heels, but keep a distance. Words fail to gather in my brain or mouth as I chug the first glass, so I pour another.

“So you can drink, but I can’t,” Jared challenges.

Without a word, I grab him a glass and pour him some, not caring at this point. I slide it toward him, but just out of reach.

“You aren’t going to offer any to Joe?” Jared accuses.

As I move to get another glass, Joe tentatively steps closer. “I’m good, beautiful.”

“Awwwwww,” Jared sings. “He calls you beautiful?!”

“Shut up,” I say with a clenched jaw.

“How often does he call you that?” Jared hums.

“Every day,” Joe answers softly.