Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 41725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 209(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 209(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
I darted a glance up at Brody, who was staring at me in shock, and quickly looked away, feeling my cheeks go hot with embarrassment. Who doesn’t know something so essential about themselves until they’re thirty?
“That must’ve been overwhelming as fuck,” Brody murmured sympathetically. He sat back down beside me. “Like a bomb went off in the middle of your life, making you question everything.”
I stared at him mutely. I’d never met anyone else who understood that. Even Gwen, who’d never liked Liza, had assumed I’d feel relieved and free that I could truly be myself, but I hadn’t. I liked order and clarity, and the dissolution of my marriage had brought chaos.
Of course, it had also brought Brody, so it wasn’t all bad.
“Did you… date?” he asked gently.
I rolled my eyes and laughed a little. “Oh yeah. For a few months there, I dated nonstop. You do remember Gwen is my sister, right? She pushed me to get out and meet people… and she was right, in a way. I learned a lot very quickly.”
For one thing, I’d learned that I was definitely gay… and for another, that casual sex was not for me, for a variety of reasons.
“Oh.” Brody folded his hands in his lap, almost… disappointed. “It’s weird. I’m trying to picture you dancing down at the Cathedral on a Friday night…”
“Is that the Shirtless Men Drink Free night?” I wondered.
He nodded.
Strangely, I was having no trouble picturing Brody shirtless in a pack of closely pressed bodies—a sexier but equally joyful version of him dancing in the living room to Taylor Swift. I could also easily imagine every man in the place wanting to take him to bed, too.
Christ, pretending to be married to him is going to be torture. I tugged at my shirt collar, which had grown impossibly tight for some reason.
“Do you have someone?” I demanded suddenly. “I mean, I know you and Milo broke up a while ago—”
“Entitled ass,” Brody muttered, echoing my own jealous thoughts.
“—but if you’re seeing someone you haven’t mentioned, like that guy at your gym—”
“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “There’s only… I mean… no.”
A blush streaked down his neck, and I wondered if the skin there would feel warm against my tongue. I squeezed my eyes closed to block out the gorgeous sight of him. “Good,” I said in a strangled voice. “That makes things more straightforward.”
“I guess. But what about the girls?” Brody’s eyes searched mine. “What do we tell them?”
“I don’t know.” It should have been a red flag, how quickly I was pushing this idea forward when so many questions remained unanswered. It wasn’t like me. But I had no desire to slow things down or to rethink. Especially not after Brody had reminded me that he would be graduating—potentially leaving—in just a matter of months. “I suppose it would be easier not to tell them anything? I can tell the dean that we don’t refer to you as a step-parent. You’re just… Brody.”
Brody nodded. “We could tell them the truth, but the younger girls would have trouble keeping the secret. Jacey might, too. It’s a lot to put on them. They might wonder if it was… real.” His blush deepened.
“Besides, the marriage will be nothing more than paperwork,” I said firmly, praying that my own dick would get the message. “A change to your employment contract. Everything else in our lives will stay the same, so there’s no need to confuse them. Right?”
“Right,” Brody agreed just as firmly, sticking out his hand for me to shake. “Nothing will change, and no one will ever know.”
I was pretty sure we both knew we were deluding ourselves about how easy it would be, since it felt like a Gordion knot of lies already, but as I clasped his warm palm in mine, I decided that it didn’t matter. Brody and I would take things as they came.
But we had no idea how quickly it would all unravel.
4
BRODY
I should have known something was up the minute I got the kids to the neighborhood pool for the end-of-summer party.
It had been three days since Grant and I shook hands on our deal. Two days since we’d snuck down to city hall on his lunch break, gotten married by a justice of the peace, and celebrated by toasting with ice cream cones after taking the girls for a walk in the park. One day since I’d successfully navigated Mountbatten’s intensive orientation program with a freshman, a fifth grader, and a first grader. Twelve measly hours since I’d waved good night to my husband at the top of the stairs and assured him, “I really think this is going to work. No one’s going to know,” before retreating to my bed and jerking myself off to the memory of him saying, “I take thee, Brody…”