I pulled in a breath through my nose.
“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled. “Think you might have the wrong number, Wild. I don’t normally suck on dildos after six o’clock on Tuesdays.”
I blinked at the floor.
Wild?
Was he making fun of me?
He was. He was making a joke, out of me, out of this, out of my best friend’s pain.
I flattened a hand to my chest, feigning regret.
“Oh, I am so, so sorry. I forgot. You’re into ass play. Hard and deep, right? Tori told me all about it. My mistake. Is that something your wife enjoys? Do you take turns fucking each other?”
“Fuck,” he groaned. “You serious?”
“You hurt her,” I bit out through clenched teeth. “You hurt my best friend. And you better pray to the God of assholes like you that I don’t ever see your ugly, motherfucking face. Jail doesn’t scare me, loser. I will cut your dick off and make you eat it in front of your mother.”
He laughed again, only this time it was bold and straight from his belly. One of those laughs I knew had his head thrown back and tears brimming his eyes.
My feet stuck to the carpet. The hand at my side curled into a tight fist with nails threatening to break skin.
“You’re …wow,” he said, his voice floating with another soft laugh. “Damn. Just slow down a minute, all right? Quit yelling for a second.” He cleared his throat. I heard the creak of the mattress. “Look, I’m not going to deny that I partake in a little ass play on occasion, but no joke, I’m the one delivering it. There is no other scenario. As for my dick? I really need him to stay attached. We’re close. You get me?”
Did I get him?
“I hate you,” I whispered, closing my eyes, my heart pounding.
Suddenly, I forgot who I had dialed and could only picture Marcus standing in the doorway of our bedroom.
Marcus, telling me it was over.
Marcus, digging his nails into my chest and clawing out my heart.
Marcus, my husband, who had stopped loving me and wanted out.
He didn’t look remorseful in that moment. He looked … relieved.
There was no need to lie anymore. No need to pretend he was happy. He was free, and I was falling.
Down.
Down.
Into the unknown, where I had to find the person I was without him. I didn’t even know where to begin looking for her.
Wes hesitated responding, finally giving me a quiet, “Don’t even know me,” followed by a heavy sigh. “Again, you got the wrong number. This guy who you think I am, he screwed over your friend? Right? Do me a favor and check the number you were supposed to dial. I’m betting you’re only off by one.”
“Fuck you,” I spat.
I was sick of hearing his denial, but then strangely found myself pulling the phone back and studying the screen.
There was something in his voice when he dropped the enjoyment of my verbal lashing. A concealed sadness, and I didn’t think the man who had shamelessly introduced his wife to his girlfriend had the ability to feel anything that deep.
You had to have a heart first. Wes clearly didn’t.
I couldn’t remember what number Tori had given me. It could easily have been the number lit up on my phone, but I wanted to be certain.
I lifted my head to look at her.
“What was that number again?”
Tori narrowed her eyes, her mouth dropping open. She then glanced down once more at the phone in her hand and slowly repeated, “Uh, 919-555-6871.”
Shit.
Exactly one number off. I’d dialed 6872.
“What’s going on?” Tori asked, stepping forward.
I knew the man on the other end of the line heard the confirmation he was betting on. By the time the phone touched my ear again, he was finishing the last subtle notes of a throaty chuckle.
“Sorry you’re going to have to go through that epic speech again, Wild. You nailed it, though, if that helps.”
Wild.
His voice was smooth and low, wickedly playful.
Sexy.
I was ready to dig a hole in the sand and bury myself in it.
God, I am such a shit.
I slapped a hand over my eyes, groaning.
“Oh, my God. I am so, so sorry. This … was clearly a call not meant for you. I’m sure you’re not a douche bag tool.”
“Who sucks on dildos and gets fucked by his wife?”
He chuckled again.
I could feel the heat burn across my cheeks and down my neck.
“Yeah,” I said through a wince.
“Not really my thing.”
Tori nudged my elbow, then held her hands out, silently questioning what was going on.
I shook my head. I needed to get off the phone with this guy. I’d abused him enough already.
I held up a finger to Tori and spun around, facing the large bay window at the front of the house.
“Right. Um, again, I’m very, very sorry I cussed you out and accused you of enjoying … those things. I don’t normally go off like that. It’s just been …one of those days. You know?” I blew out a quick breath. “Sorry again. Take care.”
Quickly, before he had the chance to respond, I slid my thumb over the End Call button.
My body slumped into the nearby recliner and I curled into the leather, dropping my head back with a sigh.
That felt good. Even if I hadn’t spewed that hatred at my intended victim, something in my chest felt lighter. It was bizarre. Maybe I didn’t need to dial the correct number to chew out Wes, or face my new reality and lay into Marcus.