Page 31 of Losing Control


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Two proposals within a month. One real, one fake, but my reaction to each is strikingly different. I pull his hands from my face and interlock our fingers. “Let's do it,” I say without moving a muscle.

23

“You married him?” Blake has been at my throat since the moment she got home and I filled her in on what happened while she was away. “That must have been one hell of a kiss for you to agree to marry him in a weekend.”

“It was more than just a kiss,” I explain. Although I won’t be telling her this is only a rouse, it doesn't negate that the kiss we shared was definitely more than just a kiss.

“You fucked him, too?” She nearly chokes on the wine she opened when I told her the big news. “I mean, of course you did. He’s your husband. But was it before or after the nuptials? It must have been a pretty impressive shlong to have you saying yes to a marriage not even a month after you told the last guy no.” Blake snorts out a laugh at her own words.

“We haven’t had sex yet.” Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head, but I continue before she can start freaking out even more. “We both realized that we kind of just knew from the beginning that we were into each other and nobody else would really measure up.”

“Yeah, whatever. You know I’m behind you if you’re happy. But why haven’t you slept with him yet? Isn’t that the whole point of being married? You’re guaranteed the goods anytime you want them.” Leave it to Blake to make marriage so superficial.

Though I’m not sure I can say much since I’m lying to her about being married in the first place. It doesn’t feel good to lie to my best friend, but it’s for the best right now. Hopefully, it’ll get Jett off my back and Colt can help his mom die happy. I don’t know why her son eloping would help with that, but I’m choosing to accept that he gets something out of this little deal. Otherwise, I'll start panicking about his ulterior motives.

“It’s more complicated than that.” And proving to be more complicated than I thought, trying to keep things from her. “Just because we knew we wanted to get married doesn’t mean I’m ready to sleep with him.” More lies. Every time I’m around Colt Gibson, my body aches to be closer to him. And when I’m not with him, well, my mind pretends it is.

Blake squints at me. She’s good at calling out my bullshit. Too good. “I’m giving you three days to bone your husband before I start investigating.” Fantastic. “So, when are you leaving me?”

“We have to wait until we can find a place since neither of us have a place of our own.” There’s a part of me that hopes it takes awhile and our faux marriage will be over before it can happen. I’m scared of what could happen if I get comfortable living with Colt. Getting attached is a dangerous place to be. And I was just there not too long ago. If it happened again and everything went downhill, I don’t know that I’d be able to come back from it.

How do you get over Colt Gibson without a Colt Gibson to help you? Which is why I have to keep him at arm's length. There’s no way for me to learn to dig myself out of holes on my own if I let him do it for me each time. This whole marriage thing is a matter of safety, or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. Moving in together would be a whole different ball game.

“Guess I better start looking too, then.” I raise an eyebrow at Blake, not really remembering what we were talking about. “You think I’m just going to stay here by myself if you move to New Orleans?”

“You lived here by yourself before I moved in. And your job is here.”

She leans forward and sits her wineglass on the table. “You have a job here, too. And if you remember, we moved here together. You just left me for Jett-head. But the whole reason I’m here is because we were in this together.” Guilt stirs in my stomach. “Ten years ago, we made a promise that we wouldn’t leave each other behind. So if you go, I’m going too.”

She’s right. It’s always been us against the world. No matter what we’ve gone through or where we went, Blake has been by my side. And I should know better than to think a marriage was going to change that.

“You’re the best, B.” My life would look so different if I hadn’t met her in high school.

“I know.” She grabs her glass and leans back on the couch with a smirk. “But you still have to call Mariana and tell her you eloped without telling her.”

Oh, no. Mariana Miller is one woman you don’t want to upset. Blake’s mom is scary when she gets riled up. “I changed my mind. You’re the worst,” I say as I flop onto the couch next to her and grab my phone.

24

“Iswear to God, Tyson, if you don’t shut up, I’m putting this hammer through your skull.” It’s been one of those days at work. We are starting a new project and I had two guys call in with another one no-showing. We are doing this build last minute and with a huge time constraint, which means it’s balls to the wall right now, and I can’t afford to not have a full crew here. I was pretty stoked when Tyson offered to help, but right now I’m really wishing he would have stayed home. Or jump off a cliff.

“Well, why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were marrying Libby,” he asks, like I kept the world’s biggest secret from him. “You barely know her!”

“I know her enough for her to say yes.” The fact that the woman of my dreams said yes to me, fake marriage or not, has me on cloud fucking nine. This gives me time to make sure she's safe. Time to let my mom die happy. And time for me to woo my woman into staying the fuck married to me.

My statement should be enough of a response to stop this idiotic conversation. Apparently I’m wrong. “But what the fuck? You weren’t dating. How does that even happen?” His face turns to stone. “Was it so you could get in her pants? Because I swear to god…”

I turn my whole body to face him and give what better be the most intimidating look I’ve ever had. “Get out.” I say, pointing toward the door that my guys are walking in and out of while they carry on working, acting like they’re not straining their necks to hear what’s being said between the two of us. They all know my personal life is off limits. Especially my wife. Nobody looks at her, talks about her, thinks about her, or thinks about looking or talking about her. If I ever caught wind of anything, I’d fire them on the spot and they know it. I don’t give a fuck if it’s considered wrongful termination. It’s a better outcome than me killing them, so they should be grateful.

Unfortunately, Ty doesn’t work for me. He’s not even on my payroll for the day. The guy has more money than he knows what to do with, so he’s volunteering his time out of the goodness of his heart. The heart I’m about to rip from his body if he says one more thing about my marriage.

He puts his hands up in defense. “Easy now, you can’t ruin the moneymaker.”

“You play for the NBA, dumbass. You don’t need a pretty face for that.”

“Ball ain’t the only thing that brings in the dough, broski. Paps love themselves a little side angle of number seven when he’s off the court.” He runs his thumb across his jaw like he’s posing for GQ.

“Get the fuck out of here, Ty.” I’ve had enough of his bullshit for one day. It’s bad enough that I still have to deal with him when I get home.

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