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What My Husband Shouldn't Know 05
** porscha He's not answering. It's the second time I've called in fifteen minutes, and I haven't had any replies to the messages I've been sending either. Did he still remember being here at two? I hang up and look at the clock on the bar wall, seeing that it's almost midnight. There are still two hours before my boyfriend thinks my shift is over and he can come pick me up. And here I was thinking we'd be lucky today, if I left early, to have an amazing night. Shit. I need to fix my car. I can't keep depending on him for rides. Music plays around me, customers laugh to my right, and one of the bartenders fills the cooler with ice on my other side. I start to feel restless. If he's not picking up, then he's either asleep or left. Both mean he'll remember me when it's too late. He's not always reliable, but this wouldn't be the first time, either. That's the problem with turning your friend into a boyfriend, I think. He still thinks he can get away with it. I grab my shirt and bag from
What My Husband Shouldn't Know 06
Moving to the next row, I put my things aside and crawl around, looking under the seats to the left and right, feeling around on the floor. A long pair of denim-clad legs are in front of me, and I look up to see a man sitting on the bench with a handful of popcorn on its way to his mouth. He keeps looking at me with raised eyebrows. “Sorry,” I whisper, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I dropped my drink and my phone dropped and slipped somewhere in here. Mind if I look...? He hesitates a moment and then blinks, sitting up. — No, you can look. He puts his stand aside and stands up, pulling something out of his pocket. - Here. He flicks on his phone's flashlight and crouches down, illuminating under the seats. Immediately, I see my cell phone under the seat next to his and pick it up. Thank you, Lord. We both stand up and my shoulders relax. I can't buy another one now. I run my fingers over the screen to see if it has any scratches or if the glass has cracked. - He picked up? -
What My Husband Shouldn't Know 06
Moving to the next row, I put my things aside and crawl around, looking under the seats to the left and right, feeling around on the floor. A long pair of denim-clad legs are in front of me, and I look up to see a man sitting on the bench with a handful of popcorn on its way to his mouth. He keeps looking at me with raised eyebrows. “Sorry,” I whisper, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I dropped my drink and my phone dropped and slipped somewhere in here. Mind if I look...? He hesitates a moment and then blinks, sitting up. — No, you can look. He puts his stand aside and stands up, pulling something out of his pocket. - Here. He flicks on his phone's flashlight and crouches down, illuminating under the seats. Immediately, I see my cell phone under the seat next to his and pick it up. Thank you, Lord. We both stand up and my shoulders relax. I can't buy another one now. I run my fingers over the screen to see if it has any scratches or if the glass has cracked. - He picked up? -
What My Husband Shouldn't Know 07
Aside from the wine, my boss gave me the only thing she could find at a drive-thru. I take one and lean back, placing my feet back on the armrest in front of me. "Are you going to eat all six?" he asks. I stop the donut two inches from my mouth and look at him. "Is this going to bother you or something?" “No, I just wanted to know if I'll get one. I smile and point to the box, saying that you can make yourself comfortable. He takes the one with simple coverage, and I don't know if he's the no-frills type or if he just wanted to leave the different toppings for me, but either way, I kind of like it. We sat down and ate, but I couldn't help but sneak a few glances at him from time to time. His hair is light brown, and his eyes appear blue, green, or greenish-brown, depending on what light is flashing on the screen. He has a little stubble on his oval face, a snub nose, and my gaze is drawn to the way his angled chin flexes as he chews. There are slight frown lines around his eyes, so he
What My Husband Shouldn't Know 08
porscha “I don't think this is a good idea,” I tell Nick, pulling my stacks of milk cartons out of the back of his car. “I feel like a freeloader. My boyfriend shows off that peculiar lip slant where you only see a part of his teeth. "And what are you going to do then?" He looks at me, pulling out my collapsible drawing table and lifting it up. "Are you staying with your parents?" I notice his blue eyes half-closed, probably from lack of sleep, as we walk up the porch steps of Aaron Browns' house to drop off our things. Our new home. The last few days have been crazy, and I can't believe this man is your father. What are the odds? I wish we had met a little differently. Not going to the police station at two in the morning to get her son – my boyfriend – out of jail. “Stop it, I told you,” Nick says, heading back to the car to get more stuff. “It was my father who offered us to stay here. We just have to do the housework, and that gives us a chance to save up for a new place. A better
What My Husband Shouldn't Know 09
Pretending to be lip-synching to the song and nodding to the beat, I make five large hamburgers with my hands and begin placing them in a clean pan already heated and smeared with melted butter. My hips sway from side to side as my waist tickles. I jump, my heart pounding in my chest as the air catches in my throat. Turning around, I see my sister behind me. — Cam! - panting. “Gotcha,” she jokes, grinning from ear to ear and goes back to poking me in the ribs. I stop the music on the cell phone. 'How did you get in?' I didn't hear the bell. She walks around the island, sits on a stool, resting his elbows on the counter, and picks up a slice of onion. “I found Nicolas outside,” she explains. “He told me to come in. I tilt my head, peering out the window, and see him with a few friends around my grandmother's old car that Nicolas's father paid to have towed here since it's not working. I couldn't leave it in the apartment, and it looks like Nicolas is finally making good on his promise
What My Husband Shouldn't Know 10
The music app must have been open and he must have accidentally touched it. Shit. George Michael's “Father Figured” plays, and his brows rise as the suggestive chorus begins. My mouth goes dry, realizing the content of the lyrics. I quickly grab my phone and turn it off. He lets out a laugh. What a max. Then he straightens up, clearing his throat. '80s music, huh? I run my hands through my hair, sliding the phone into his back pocket. “Yeah, I wasn't kidding. After a moment, I look up and see him looking at me, the trace of a smile in his eyes. His gaze darts to the side, and he leans over, picking up one of the architecture and decor magazines I didn't see that had fallen out of my bag on the kitchen table. “And it's Aaron,” he says, handing me the magazine. — No, Mr. Browns, okay? He's so close I feel butterflies in my stomach, and I'm unable to look at him. I pick up the magazine and wave, still unable to meet his eyes. He goes back to his duties, and I turn to leave, but I stop an
What My Husband Shouldn't Know 11
Didn't Nicolas tell her I own a construction company? Does he even talk about me? Grief starts to eat me up inside. “Well, he tries to be,” Dutch joked, answering her question. I glare at him, but I feel like laughing. Teasing is with ourselves, but I wish the asshole wouldn't do that at work. It compromises my image, dammit. — Shit! Porscha suddenly yells. I look back at her quickly and see the rainwater falling on her head like a waterfall. The tarp ripped at the top of the structure and spilled all the water that had accumulated in the crevice. She stands up quickly, escaping the water, and stretches her arms, trying to get it back in place. But she can't quite reach. Coming up behind her, I reach over and hold the tarp in place as I turn my head and jerk my chin at Dutch. He nods and leaves to get the staple gun. Porscha lets go of the tarp and slides under my arms, staying beside me, laughing. - Are you okay? I ask. She nods, wiping her face and shaking her jacket. - Yea. I think
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