Page 37 of Wait for Him

“What?”

“Can we just talk about this?”

I stare at him.

At least he has the good sense to look uncomfortable.

“I'm pretty sure I just watched the director's cut.”

“I'm so sorry, Rose. Please, let us explain,” Jet says, making the unfortunate mistake of assuming I'm not carrying several very sharp objects in my suitcase.

I glance over.

He's finally wearing pants.

Good for him.

David takes a step toward me, and my hand comes up before I even think about it.

“No.”

“Listen, I fucked up. I know that.” He runs both hands over his face before looking at me again. “It's just... I never get to be in control with us. Be on top. You won't let me just be a man.”

I stare at him.

Did this motherfucker just...

I walk toward him.

David has more than a foot on me, so when I stop directly in front of him, I have to crane my neck to hold his eyes.

“You fucked another man in my bed because I won't let you be on top?”

“That's not what I—”

“No, I want to make sure I understand the explanation you've chosen. You felt emasculated because I like to be in control sexually, and instead of using your grown-man words to tell me that, you used the key I gave you to bring someone into my home and fuck him in my bed.”

His mouth opens.

“That's a yes-or-no question, David.”

His jaw tightens. “Yes.”

“Excellent.”

I nod once.

“Delete my existence from every facet of your life. My number. My social media. Throw away anything of mine still in your apartment. Do not, under any circumstances, let our paths cross again, because if they do, I will bury a body in your backyard and fuck the judge assigned to your case to make certain you get the goddamn death penalty. Am I clear?”

He swallows hard and nods.

“Use your goddamn words, David.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Well, at least he gave me that one as a parting gift.

Now I just need to get to the office and dig my brother out of whatever freshly excavated PR grave he's managed to throw himself into before lunch.