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“I know you will. Be honest with her. She believes you rushed out to get laid as soon as she left. She thinks she’s not good enough. It’s messing with her head.”
That uncomfortable lump in my throat throbs painfully. “I wouldn’t sleep with anyone else. Ican’tsleep with anyone else. I didn’t.”
“You embarrassed her. Emily was the one who told her. I eased that sting a bit. You can thank me later.”
Smug bastard.
And Emily? Does the universe hate me?
“Are you always an asshole? What did you do?”
“Surprised her in Central Park. Made out like two teenagers.”
Given Ethan’s paranoia toward anything public, that’s a massive step, but there’s no way in hell I’m wasting this opportunity to bust his balls.
“Funny, old man, considering she’s not much older than a teenager. Did you buy her cotton candy and take her on the Ferris wheel too?” Despite my cracked lips, I can’t help but grin.
“Wow.” He drags out the word. “Thanks for reminding me why I hate you.”
“Don’t worry, the feeling is mutual.”
10
ETHAN
My phone ringsjust as the sun’s soft glow spills into the bedroom. Worried it might be Doc or Jackson, I check it. It’s a familiar Boston number, and I mentally curse.
I send it to voicemail repeatedly, but my toxic ex lingers worse than the stench of a locker room after a weekend tournament. She’ll undoubtedly give me hell, especially if news of my relationship has made its way through her social circles.
Of course, it has. Why else would she care?
I have zero to be ashamed of. My divorce is final, and Aurora is mine. Nothing matters except for the girl snuggling my chest, gazing up at me, probably wondering why my phone keeps waking her.
“Sorry.” I refuse the call again and set the phone on the nightstand.
I tangle my fingers in her messy hair and lower my mouth to her lips just as the damn device vibrates on the table. I close my eyes, drop my forehead to hers, and release a frustrated sigh.
When I pull away, her brows are pinched in confusion, and as much as I wish to keep this from her, I know I can’t, not if I want her to trust me.
“This will not be a pretty conversation. I can go outside or have it here, but my ex won’t stop until she bitches me out.”
Aurora scoffs and reaches for my phone. I attempt to snatch it to prevent the impending nightmare, but before I’m able, she’s answering.
“Hello.”
“This must be theswimsuit model.” Every word drips indignation. “Screening his calls already?”
My brat rolls her eyes. “That would be me. And you are?”
“Hiswife, or at least I was, until you started riding his dick.”
“Were you? That’s too bad.”
Aurora’s dry sarcasm trumps my ex’s taunting. This is not at all how I thought this would go.
“So, how’s my husband’s cock?”
God, I hate that voice. The tone is obnoxious, as if she were sitting down with her snobby friends and asking about someone’s kid.So, how’s little Michael?