It’s almostthree in the morning when I find myself standing alone in the kitchen, sitting in dark silence with only a bottle of water for company. Hunter and Isabel finally peeled themselves off the bed in my room, and he carried her to their own, where I’m sure he spoiled her with aftercare, and she quickly drifted off to sleep. I haven’t seen them since.
But I can’t sleep.
I seem to have woken up in the twilight zone or something because, all of a sudden, I don’t recognize my own life. I don’t have any regrets about what we’re doing—and I think that’s the problem. The sex is amazing. This whole trip has been amazing. But I haven’t been doing any of the regular stuff that I used to do.
I wake up and think of them. Every second of my day, I’m thinking of them. At night…it’s them.
And not just Isabel.
I’m a fucking idiot—that’s all it comes down to. I’ve muted this little infatuation with my best friend since I was old enough to realize that I liked Huntera lot.I liked his company, but I also liked his body. His attention. The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles and the darkness of his eyes. I liked being one of the only people in the world who knows the real Hunter, who sees the tattoos and knows the dark secrets of his past.
Then my dumb ass had to go and agree to fuck his wife. Thinking for one damn second that I could separate the two. That I could do this without letting my stupid fucking heart get its hopes up.
Like tonight, for example. I pushed his limits. I put him in a situation he might not have been comfortable with because, apparently, I like to play with fire.
And he played back, which did not help my situation at all.
I’ve always been known to look into things a little too much. As a bisexual man, I have to know how to read people really, really well, because misjudging someone’s interest can end very badly for me. So, I’m always careful.
And what happened tonight felt like a pretty fucking clear sign. It was a giant billboard on the freeway. Lit up. With flashing lights.
He touched my cock, for fuck’s sake. He stared at me while biting his lip, letting me grip his leg while he touched my cock. Am I reading this situation correctly?
Is Hunter…into this? Intome?
Nope. It was just the heat of the moment. He probably barely even noticed me touching his leg, and he wasn’t intentionally touching my cock; he was just holding his wife’s pussy.
Pack up your hopes and dreams, Drake, you fucking idiot. He’s still as straight as they come, and that’s not going to change. It’s not anyone’s fault…it’s just the way it is.
A door opens down the hall, and I freeze. When I hear footsteps, I can tell by the heavy way they travel that it’s Hunter, and I immediately tense up.
“Hey,” he says groggily, when he notices me sitting in the dark like a villain waiting to attack.
“Hey,” I reply. “Can’t sleep?”
“I drifted off for a little bit, but then I woke up and realized I needed some water. What about you?”
I shrug. “Just enjoying the quiet for a minute.”
“Everything okay?” he asks, watching me skeptically.
“Yeah,” I reply quickly. “Everything okay with you?”
He nods. “Everything’s great.”
“And Isabel?”
He chuckles as he takes a swig from the water bottle. “She’s in there snoring, probably still smiling. I think she had more fun than anyone tonight.”
“You made sure she drank something before falling asleep, right? Gave her some time to relax after everything?”
He holds up a hand. “I took care of her, I promise.”
“Good,” I say with a slow nod, looking away toward the city lights through the large living room window.
“You know…maybe next time, you could be there for the aftercare. If it would make you feel better.”
I try not to read into that too much. He’s just being considerate. I’m not much of an aftercare kind of guy, but I can’t deny that taking care of Isabel does sound nice. “Sure,” I say with a shrug.