Page 3 of Don't Puck Up

Chris paced in front of me. I watched him in a daze. The slashing movements of his free hand were short and sharp. Angry.

“No,” he bit out loud enough that it snapped me out of my own head. “I’m not making any comment. No press releases.”

I couldn’t hear what was said back, but Chris’s face turned red, and the muscles in his jaw bulged. “No. Statements,” he gritted out.

“Chris,” I whispered, but the words I would have said next died in my throat when he shot me a withering glare.

“I don’t give a fuck if you recommend putting something out there, James,” he snapped. “It’s not happening.”

Another beat of silence, and then Chris growled. “No. Fucking. Comment.” He jammed his finger down and threw his cell phone onto the bed. The dullthunkwhen it slid off the other side and hit the floor ricocheted around the room.

“We have to say something,” I whispered. “They’re saying Hux and I were cheating. That’s not fair on either of us.”

“We’re not having this discussion, Kamirah.” He shook his head and his shoulders fell. “Youknowwhy I can’t say anything.”

I threw my hands up in the air and challenged, “So you’re okay with throwing me under the bus to protect yourself?” My voice rose without conscious thought on my part. It was as if a switch had been flicked, pain quickly morphing into rage.

I was so fucking angry at him, at them, and the situation they’d put us in. I stormed away from Chris, slamming the door to our walk-in closet closed behind me.

But then he followed me in there and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me to him.

I pushed out of his embrace.

I didn’t want him to touch me. I didn’t want him anywhere near me.

“Of course I don’t want that,” he placated. “But what choice do I have? It’ll ruin everything.”

“Staying silent will too,” I argued, yanking on a pair of underwear. “You can’t see it, but this is going to destroy both Hux’s reputation and mine. None of us were doing anything wrong.” I gestured between us, my hands shaking and my tone pleading when I begged, “We can make something up—I’ll pretend he was coming over to organize a surprise birthday party for you. Better yet, my birthday is before yours—say you had him here doing party planning. Fuck, anything is better than saying nothing.”

“No.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his pecs and biceps straining, and looked down at me with a determined set to his jaw.

“That’s it, then. You’ve made your decision, and I just have to go along with it?” I asked incredulously, then slammed the drawer closed.

“Kam, baby,” he pleaded, reaching for me again.

“Don’t ‘Kam, baby’ me,” I shot back and slapped his hand away.

I loved my husband. He was the other half of my soul. My heart belonged to him. I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it.

But, fuck me, he was infuriating.

“Please.”

“I’m so fucking angry with you right now. I don’t even want to look at you.” I shook my head and closed my eyes, holding my hands out in a stopping motion in case he got any ideas. “I can’t believe you’d let them say those things about me and the guy you’ve been sticking your dick in for over a year. Your only instinct is to protect yourself, not either of us,” I added, resigned.

“Ignore it,” he responded. His eyes lit up and he snapped his fingers. It was as if he’d just hatched a genius plan. He pointed atthe television and added vehemently, “Pretend this ridiculous report never happened. No one who knows us will believe it.” Chris gestured between us. “They all know we're tight. They know we'd never cheat on each other. It doesn't matter what other people think, anyway.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “We know the truth. That's enough.”

“Right, of course. Ignore it,” I parroted back with enough sarcasm to sink a ship. “Easier said than done when I have public relations commitments and a social media profile that I need to upkeep for the sake of a charity. Although, who knows—” I threw my hands up in the air. “—they might relieve my cheating ass from my board duties anyway.”

“That’s not going to happen. You’ve done so much good for them. They respect you.”

“Yeah, just like the respect you’re showing me right now.”

“Kam,” he begged, reaching for me. “I’m leaving for Australia in a few hours. I don’t want us to fight.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve made your bed. NowIhave to lie in it.” I yanked my T-shirt on, then roughly shoved past him. “Finish getting packed and leave.”

“We need to talk this out.”