Rogue Affair

by Rhys Everly

  She didn’t respond, and I took the glasses off. She was squinting, but she was awake. And as soon as the streetlight shone on her eyes, she snatched the glasses back from me.

  “I’m fine,” she said. She wasn’t fine.

  “Where are you going? Can I drop you off anywhere?” I asked her.

  “You don’t need to do anything. I’m just trying to get to my car.”

  “Mrs. Carlson, you’re in no state to drive. Let me take you home.”

  I tried to take her arm and walk her to the truck, but she pulled away from me.

  “Go away. You destLinced my family,” she said.

  I tried a second time, and this time she didn’t resist. I took her to the truck and put a seatbelt on her after helping her inside.

  I drove us away, Dad in the middle snoring like a three-headed monster and Carlson supporting her head on the window, probably trying not to be sick.

  In my head, Felicity took the shape of a young and helpless drunk man, being taken to the driver’s home to be looked after until he was sober and well enough to look after himself.

  And then things happened and they fell in love. Maybe they even got trapped in the house and were forced to be together and their feelings.

  Hm…

  There might be something worth exploring in that idea.

  I tucked it on the back of my mind to unpick later, and I stopped in front of Felicity’s mansion.

  She’d gotten herself a deal after her divorce with Mr. Carlson. She got to keep the mansion, and he was forced to move into a two-bedroom house on the other side of town.

  Seeing the kind of broken family Derek had come from, it was no surprise he was such a dick.

  I should count myself lucky I managed to escape that cycle that Derek and his mom seemed trapped in. Blaming others for their failings. Treating others like animals just so they can feel better about themselves.

  I helped her up the steps and when we got to the top, I rang the bell. I waited, but no answer came. I knew Felicity had maids, but maybe they didn’t stay overnight?

  I put her on the ground propped against the door and looked in her bag for her keys.

  Finding them, I unlocked the door and carried her to the nearest couch and then went in search of anything she could throw up in if the need arose.

  There, next to the huge fireplace, was the poker, dustpan and brush, and the tongs. And a leather waste basket.

  It was full of shredded papers and tissues, but I placed it next to her, anyway. Then I looked for the kitchen and filled up a glass of water for her.

  “I’m gonna go now, Mrs. Carlson,” I told her, and she opened her eyes.

  I told her where I’d put the basket and the water and got up to go, but she grabbed my wrist and held me.

  “Thank you, young man.”

  “Don’t mention it,” I said and tried to go again.

  “You’re such a good man. I wish you were my son,” she said, taking me by surprise.

  Two weeks ago she was hellbent on destLincing my life. Now she was grateful?

  Had she never known who her son was? Didn’t she know the kind of bully she had raised?

  Her hand loosened around my wrist, and I finally got up and closed the front door behind me.

  I had no idea what alternate universe I’d entered, but I would take this Cedarwood Beach over the previous one any time.

  Now if I could get Nathan to see that I was good for him, too?

  Well, then maybe I didn’t need to leave this town at all.

  Thirty-Two

  Nathan

  “Hey, I’m in Cedarwood Beach if you’re up for a drink?” I sent the message to Kyle as soon as I got home, but an hour later, he still hadn’t replied.

  I knew he was at work today, but I also knew that he was supposed to be my friend, and I needed him to help me make sense of the mess in my head. And in my heart.

  I showered, had breakfast, and played with Summer and yet still no reply from him.

  We had an afternoon nap, during which Charlie messaged to tell me Yaya’s results had come through and she was fine but was suffering from an arrhythmia. It would require medication and supervision, and he was trying to convince her to go stay with him for a while. But it came to no surprise that she was refusing to.

  By the time we all got up and had our evening Greek coffee—it was routine in this house; don’t ask—I was beyond pissed.

  “Well, if the mountain won’t come,” I muttered under my breath and picked up the car keys and drove to Dad’s bar.

  Maya was spending the weekend with Becca at Becca’s house, so she had given me her car yet again.

  As I got into the parking lot, I got a text message.

  “I almost had a heart attack,” the preview said, and I snatched my phone to unlock and read Hudson’s full message.

  There wasn’t an explanation, but there was a link to Harlow University’s E-Zine.

  “Dear Mom,” the headline read. “Written by HB.”

  I exited the message and called him straight away.

  “They published it?” I said when he answered almost straight away.

  “They did.” He shouted so loud that I had to shut one eye and shield my ear.

  “See? I told you you could do it. And Nicky told you, too,” I said.

  “It’s all thanks to you,” he said, and my heart skipped a beat, my skin heating up a degree or two.

  “I had nothing to do with it,” I said.

  “You had everything to do with it,” he said. “Want to celebrate?”

  I looked at the bar through my rearview mirror and pondered over the question for a moment.

  I wanted to celebrate Hudson’s success. I did. But it was dark, and I was pissed off.

  And one of two bad things could happen if I met with him.

  One. I’d take it out on him.

  Two. I’d take it out on him by kissing. And stuff.

  “I-I can’t. Sorry. I’m trying to catch up with Kyle,” I said. “Should we do it tomorrow? I’m staying over tonight.”

  “O-okay. Sure. That’s fine,” he said.

  “I’m really, really sorry,” I said again.

  But it’s for the best.

  I hung up, sent him a party emoji with my tomorrow promise, and got out of the car.

  As I neared the entrance, I realized the outside was dipped in darkness. I hoped Dad knew his light bulbs were busted.

  I walked into a vibrant bar illuminated solely by candles, romantic music playing in the distance.

  “Hey, Rachel,” I said as I approached the bar.

  “Nathan!” she called out. “How are you, sweetheart?”

  She draped her arm around my neck and planted a kiss on my cheek.

  “Eh, trying to have a good night,” I told her with half the spirit. I couldn’t see Kyle anywhere.

  “What happened here?”

  Rachel shook her head with some dramatics and poured me a glass of beer.

  “Power cut. Don’t get me started. We’re making the best out of a bad situation.”

  That made sense. But then why did the convenience store across the street have lights?

  “Is Kyle working tonight? He said he was,” I asked, searching the crowd for him again.

  “Oh, yes. He’s in the cellar trying to sort out the cooling unit with your dad.” She waved absent-mindedly toward the hallway leading to the back of the house.

  “Cool,” I said, took a sip of my beer, and then headed to the hallway to surprise them both.

  I’d never seen them work together, and I was curious how they were as part of the same team. Kyle had said Dad had stopped being such a douchewaffle to him, so I hoped he was telling the truth.

  The hallway was dark, but as I approached the stairway to the cellar, the emergency light right outside illuminated two dark figures embracing, kissing each other.

  When I stepped closer, I realized it wasn’t just any figures. It was Dad. And Kyle.

  �
��Nathan, I can explain,” Dad said pushing Kyle away from him. “It’s not what it looks like.”

  “What is it then?” Did I stutter? Had I lost complete control over my own voice?

  “Nathan—” Kyle began taking a step closer to me.

  “This is nothing,” Dad said, and Kyle froze.

  So that was why he’d been avoiding me. That was why he was acting weird. Both of them. The late hours, the absence from my life.

  They were screwing.

  Dear God, I’d even caught them red-handed. I knew those clothes were familiar at Kyle’s house the other day when I went over and he had a booty call there. And the Jeep outside. Who owned a white Jeep? I knew it was Dad’s car parked outside, but by the time I came out, it was gone, so I couldn’t check.

  “I can’t believe you,” I managed to say and stormed off.

  So, while I was going through hell trying to understand what was going on with me and needing my friend’s help, he was having fun with my dad.

  And since when was Dad sleeping with guys? Was that a new occurrence, or had it been happening for a while?

  The cool fall air hit me right in the face, and I escaped to my car before I marched back in there and did something stupid.

  I didn’t even know how I got home safely because I didn’t remember the drive there.

  I turned the car off and looked at my phone.

  Who did I turn to now?

  Whenever something crap happened in my life, Kyle had been the guy I turned to. And Maya.

  But Maya had her own problems to deal with, and I didn’t need to burden her with Kyle and Dad’s extracurricular activities.

  I turned to the only person who could take the burden of this without it ever having consequences. I knew Hudson wouldn’t spill the beans around town, but he knew my family, and he might be judgmental.

  MrRomantic: You won’t believe what just happened to me.

  The dots danced across the screen as my message went from received to read in seconds.

  Sweet_Peaches: What? Another high school bully sucked you off?

  I chuckled to myself. Good to know he hadn’t lost his sense of humor on account of his jealousy.

  MrRomantic: God, no. I just caught my dad and my *male* best friend.

  MrRomantic: Kissing.

  Sweet_Peaches: *gasps*

  Sweet_Peaches: WTF?

  MrRomantic: I know right?

  Sweet_Peaches: How are you feeling?

  MrRomantic: Pissed off.

  Pissed off didn’t even cut it.

  MrRomantic: I needed my friend so many times over the past few weeks, but he’d always been busy.

  MrRomantic: And then I find out they’ve been screwing behind my back?

  MrRomantic: I’m fuming.

  Sweet_Peaches: I would too.

  Sweet_Peaches: Want to talk about it?

  Boy, did I. I wanted to talk about what had just happened. About what I was feeling for Hudson. About what I was feeling for Sweet_Peaches. But I couldn’t talk with him about him. And definitely not over messages.

  MrRomantic: I don’t think texting will cut it. I’m too angry to type.

  MrRomantic: And I know you’ll never meet me, so…

  I stared at the screen willing him to say something unexpected, something different, but when a response didn’t come through after a few seconds, I locked the screen and got out of the car.

  Just as I was unlocking the front door thinking that I wouldn’t shut an eyelid and hoping there was enough beer in the fridge to drink myself to sleep, my phone vibrated.

  I unlocked and read the message.

  Sweet_Peaches: Meet me.

  I stood at the entrance, frozen. What the hell was happening today? The day of the living dead was next week. The day when weird shit was supposed to happen was next Saturday. Not this one.

  MrRomantic: Lol?

  Sweet_Peaches: I mean it.

  MrRomantic: What happened to the Sweet Peaches who never meets anyone in person?

  Sweet_Peaches: He’s dead.

  He wanted to meet me. Sweet_Peaches wanted to meet me?

  MrRomantic: Where?

  I typed while I raced back to the car and waited for his instructions.

  Sweet_Peaches: Cedarwood High.

  What? He was from Cedarwood? What the hell? What were the chances? I’d been using this app forever, and I had never happened upon another guy from my hometown.

  This was indeed a spooky night.

  MrRomantic: I’ll be there in 15.

  Sweet_Peaches: Race you there.

  I reversed back onto the road and the wheels squealed as I changed to Drive before the car had fully stopped and sped off in the direction of the school.

  All this time I’d been looking for love in New Harlow when they were here, in this town?

  Was it someone I knew? Chances were I did. There were less than two thousand residents in Cedarwood Beach, and even if we didn’t know each other by first name, we were at least familiar with each other’s faces.

  As I approached the school trying to go through all the people I knew mentally, rejecting the majority of them, a fear washed over me.

  What if it was a setup? What if it was Derek, or his lackeys? What if it was payback for what happened at the reunion?

  Surely Derek wouldn’t risk anything stupid after being charged with arson. Was he even out, or was he in prison? I had no idea. I made a mental note to check what had happened to him when I could think straight.

  I drove up to the school gate where a dark figure was standing in front of it, slowly illuminated in my windshield by my approaching headlights.

  I clenched the wheel tighter. It was someone big. And tall. I’d been set up.

  I was just going to drive past. They didn’t know I was MrRomantic. I could be anyone driving through town.

  My foot stepped on the break when the headlights reached his head and I realized who he was.

  He winced, trying to shield his eyes from the bright lights, but he stared back at me. Or at the car.

  It was him.

  Of course it was him.

  I should have known.

  I came out of the car and walked toward Hudson slowly.

  When I came to stand in front of him, he didn’t look surprised. He seemed terrified. And wanting.

  “It’s you,” I said, as if it wasn’t obvious already.

  “Yeah,” he said, biting his lower lip. “I—”

  He didn’t get to finish his sentence. Because the slap that landed on his cheek made him lose his balance.

  “I deserved—” he started to say, rubbing his cheek right where my palm had landed.

  But again, he didn’t get to finish.

  My mouth collided with his. My tongue pushing through with want and need I hadn’t felt before.

  And he kissed me back. His palms on the small of my back pressing me closer to him.

  It was him all along. I’d been in love with him all along. It was never two people. It was never a decision I had to make. Both of them were him.

  The digital friend who ticked all my boxes.

  My best friend who ticked all the boxes in different ways.

  Together, he wasn’t just the ideal match.

  He was the perfect match.

  He was my perfect match.

  And I’d been denying it—him—for way too long.

  Thirty-Three

  Hudson

  It was time.

  It was way past time.

  I wanted to stop lying to him.

  And I wanted to be there for him.

  He deserved to have a friend on his side.

  And I’d be a terrible friend if I wasn’t there when he needed me and instead pretended I was a complete stranger.

  So it was high time he knew who Sweet_Peaches was.

  What I didn’t expect was the passionate kiss. And the slap, of course. Although I deserved that.

  But the kiss?

  That threw me com
pletely off.

  But I’d be a damn fool if I let him go now.

  His hand held onto the back of my neck for dear life. His body pinned to me, the heat radiating through me with brute force.

  His tongue teased mine into a dance for dominance and hunger. He was hungry for me. And I was for him.

  “When did you know?” he asked when he removed his lips and bit on my earlobe.

  “After the reunion,” I mumbled, trying to kiss his neck.

  “You’re such a bastard. I should hate you,” he said, and I paused to look at him.

  His eyes glimmered in the dark, the limited lights around us finding home in his irises.

  “But I don’t,” he said. “I-I love you, motherfucker.”

  A gasp of air escaped me, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

  “You-you do?”

  “I so fucking do,” he said. His hands moved from my neck to my chest, leaning on me drunkenly. “I’ve been in love with both of you all along. For different reasons. And for similar reasons. And I’ve been denying it for way too long,” he said.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I said.

  His mouth twitched into an evil grin, and he bit his lower lip.

  “Oh, you’ll pay for that,” he said. “But first—”

  He attacked me again, tongue first, and rubbed his hands over my nipples, squeezing them between his fingers laid flat on my chest.

  Nathan moaned, and it vibrated through his tongue, down my throat, and all the way down to my crotch, where my dick ached in pain and pleasure.

  It needed release, and if Nathan’s hardness on my thigh was anything to go by, then so did he.

  My hands roamed his body, freely for seemingly the first time. They ruffled his hair, massaged his shoulders, rubbed on his waist until they settled on his ass.

  He wasn’t prudish, either. His hand slipped under my jeans and squeezed one ass cheek hard while his other hand wrapped around my neck, his thumb circling around my Adam’s apple.