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“Or maybe that’s just what you want to believe.” I square my shoulders, goosebumps breaking out across my skin as a shiver runs over my body. I can feel Mads’ eyes lingering on me. He reaches his hand out slowly, running it over my collarbone until he reaches my necklace. “It’s beautiful,” he murmurs. “Almost as beautiful as you.”
I brush his hand away, taking a step away from him. “Doesn’t it ever get tiring?” I look back at him when he doesn’t answer. “Every year you say the same thing to me about whatever piece of jewelry Dane bought me and every year I tell you not to fucking touch me.”
He shrugs. “Maybe I get off on the rejection.”
“You’re disgusting,” I murmur half under my breath but loud enough that he can still hear me. He doesn’t say anything and after a few minutes, I think he might have gone back inside when his voice, deeper than before, startles me.
“Does Dane know why you hate me?” He’s so close I can feel the warmth from his chest radiating against my back. I clutch my drink tighter as he reaches his hand out, one finger touching my neck before he slowly drags it down my spine. “Does he know that you think about me when he’s fucking you?”
I spin around so fast I almost fall over. I reach my hand back and bring it square across Mads’ jaw, his face jerking violently to the side. He brings his hand up to rub his jaw, a smirk pulling at his lips.
“Does Dane know that his best friend is a disgusting pig who tries to seduce his wife?” I narrow my eyes, my jaw clenched so tight I can already feel the headache forming.
“I think the better question is, why have you never told him?”
I ball my hand into a fist at my side as I grip the stem of my martini glass. The truth is, I don’t know why I’ve never told Dane. Partly because I’ve heard his sob story about when he was the poor kid at Yale with no friends and Mads befriended him with zero questions. He didn’t care about his family or lack of connections. But I also know there’s another reason, a deeper one that I’m scared to unravel.
I step around him, walking back to the door when I turn back to face him. “Why are you still pretending to be friends with him? You don’t owe him anything. Just leave us alone. Go slither back into whatever damp pit you came from and let us live our life in peace.”
I half expect him to laugh or say something even worse to get a rise out of me like he usually does. It’s the game he always plays, saying just enough to get me angry and get a reaction out of me. I try to remain calm. I try to tell myself to just shrug it off and move on, but I never succeed. It’s a thread I don’t want to pull at because deep down, somewhere messed up inside of me, I know it’s because I am attracted to him. And maybe that’s the reason I don’t tell Dane what his best friend is really like.
I noticed him the moment I met him. At first I convinced myself it was the allure of the forbidden—the troubled, bad-boy best friend. And who wouldn’t be attracted to him? He has all the traits to lure you in—dark eyes, dark hair, tall, a perfectly chiseled jawline and physique that leaves your jaw on the floor. He’s like sin packaged in lust, dripping with temptation… created to draw you in.
“Trust me, sweetheart, nothing would make me happier than to move on with my life, but you might want to ask your husband why I haven’t left you alone.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
His hand slides deep into his pocket as he takes a few steps toward me, his other hand still on his jaw. “Don’t you ever want to be bad, Emery?” A shiver runs through me at the sound of his voice saying my name. “Don’t you want to stop denying yourself?”
I know he’s just trying to get another reaction out of me and instead of running away, I tilt my chin upward defiantly. “Don’t you ever get tired of trying to get something you can’t have?” I level my eyes on his. “Don’t you ever get tired of being the big bad wolf?”
His eyes darken at my last statement, and his arm shoots up to press against the door so I can’t open it as he leans in, his lips an inch from mine.
“It’s not the wolf you need to be afraid of kitten; it’s the devil in disguise that you sleep next to.”
2
MADS
Iwatch as she walks away, looking back at me for a brief second before disappearing down the staircase. My eyes linger longer than they should on her; they always do. She’s my kryptonite. A siren that I know will only lure me to danger. Call me a masochist because I love the pain of denial.
I know she wants to know more about the things I’ve said, but she’s afraid. Afraid of the illusion she’s living shattering all around her.
She thinks she found the perfect man, the one in a million who isn’t like the rest.
He wouldn’t hurt her.
He wouldn’t lie or cheat on her.
He loves her.
I look back out over the lake, the moon reflecting off the black expanse that reaches farther than I can see, the image of her in that green dress burned into my brain. Just one taste is all I need. I close my eyes, imagining my lips on her silken skin, the smell of her exotic perfume lingering. I dig my nails into my palms, the pain reminding myself that the only way I’ll ever experience her, is if Dane is dead.
The door opens again, and I look over my shoulder to see Dane. “Why are you upsetting my wife on our anniversary?” He walks over and stands next to me.
“She tattled on me?”
“She didn’t have to; it was written all over her face. Why can’t you just act indifferent and stick to the goddamn plan?” He grits out the words.
