Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
But it means nothing to him, so why would he lie? That doesn’t make any sense.
He hops up.
“Hey, hey,” he says moving close. “What’s wrong?”
I step away from him because I can’t be near him right now.
I put my hand in front of me. “Please, don’t come any closer,” I say.
I need a minute to think this through.
“Gare, talk to me.”
Oh my God, I’m gonna fucking cry like a baby.
“Do you know a guy named Vincent?” I ask.
“He’s a client, why?”
More evidence to confirm my suspicions.
“Do you guys have something going on?” I spit it out because I need an answer right now. Is my world totally about to fall apart? Or is it all a lie?
“Vincent?” The way he says it, it sounds like the most ridiculous thing in the world. Although when I accused Peter of fucking around with Evan, he was just as convincing—so convincing that if I hadn’t had the messages to prove he was lying, I might have believed him.
“Have you been hooking up with any of your clients…or anybody?”
“No!” he insists. “I haven’t even hooked up with anyone since we started pretending.”
The tears start rolling down my face.
“Where is this coming from?” he asks, approaching me again.
I step back some more.
“Peter—”
His jaw tightens at that. “Oh, Peter said something? Big fucking surprise there.”
“No. There was a message on his phone from Vincent who said you guys had some sort of arrangement…something involving blowjobs.”
He looks at me, stunned. Is it because I caught him?
I’m so fucking confused right now.
His gaze drifts down.
“So, that’s what you think of me? That I’m a liar? Another Peter screwing around behind your back?”
No, I don’t think that. But I need to hear you say it.
I can’t believe he would do this, but he could have, and this has activated all those insecurities that Peter left me with.
“I’m asking because I deserve to know the truth.”
“If you think that’s the kind of guy I am, then I don’t even know why we’re doing this.”
His words cut me deep.
“Vincent’s a fucking client who tried to make some moves on me. Yeah, it happens sometimes. And you know what, people talk all kinds of shit about their massage therapist to brag-it-up, but obviously that’s a problem for you. And if one fucking rumor is enough for you to question everything that we’ve had for the past few months…if that’s all it takes for you to want to run off, then I think I was fucking wrong about what was going on here.”
What’s happening right now? I went from thinking tonight was going to be this sweet, wonderful evening…and now it’s a nightmare.
“I think I should go,” he says.
He tosses his Twix onto the blanket and starts off.
“It’s probably better this way,” he mutters.
I turn toward the stage as Act II begins. It’s a loud musical number. Puppeteers rush onto the stage, hopping as they sing the next song. Travis and I should be laughing our asses off right now, but I sit on the blanket, the tears rolling down my face.
Is it over? It makes sense that he’d have clients like that, but he knows what happened with Peter. Didn’t I deserve an explanation? Don’t I at least deserve him staying and not walking away? He’s my boyfriend. He’s supposed to help me through my insecurity, not lose his shit over it. Travis of all people should have understood what I was going through after Peter showed me that.
At the same time, I’m relieved in a way. Seeing the text, even considering the possibility of Travis doing something like that, terrifies me. I don’t want to go through that again. I don’t want to trust someone, give them everything to find out it’s all a lie. What if I wake up again to discover he’s fallen for someone else? Someone more attractive. Someone younger. Someone more worthy of him than me.
Tonight needed to happen, I know that. Because considering Travis’s line of work and my history with Peter, it’ll always play on my mind. I’ll constantly be wondering if he’s really going to see a client or if he’s fucking some guy behind my back.
Do I want to open my heart to someone else so I can spend my life wondering if he’s going to break it?
34
Travis
Sweat runs down my forehead, stinging my eyes, but I keep going, keep pushing past the burning, not only there but traveling through my muscles as well.
My cell is resting on the lip on the front of the treadmill where I can see it as I beg it to ring. I’ve been doing that for days, and as pathetic as it is, I can’t seem to stop. When it does buzz, it’s never Gary…it’s never Steven. As soon as those thoughts start coursing through my head again, I push the button to accelerate the speed on the treadmill because it seems to be the only way to work out my frustration.