Page 17 of CurVy Forever

“My sweet Tyler,” I whisper to his skin. “You’re very good at sharing now, aren’t you?”

Still panting through the lingering pleasure, he says, “I was afraid you’d like him more. Once you got to know me, once you realised I’m not… right.”

“Don’t be silly. I don’t like him at all,” I lie, and feel that pull to protect him again—my underdog Tyler.

“She always chooses him.” He lifts his head and stares at me, blue eyes cloudy from his orgasm. “In the past, we have shared, and she always chooses him, and then…” His eyes flash with a memory. “He chooses me.”

“I won’t choose,” I promise him.

And he smiles.

CHAPTER 7

TYLER

My mind is clear.

But I can do it for her.

I lean up on my elbows and cast a shadow over lovely, soft flesh.

She is lying on the mattress with her forearm slung over her face, and the contraceptive implant below her skin is displayed: a 4cm rectangular tube.

A scowl curls my lips up.

And someone put that there.

Someone slid that into her flesh.

Someone else is inside her.

Did it hurt?

Did they, he, her, I don’t know, hurt her?

Fuck them.

I hum softly, my song matching her heavy breaths, and I climb from the bed, leaving her in a deep, sedated state.

She needed the sleep anyway.

It was a good move to dose her water with Valium. I did it for her. I’ll look after her. And she did say, “I’ll let you do anything to me, Tyler. I’ll let you use me however you want, whenever you want. I’ll let you take me in the shower, while I’m asleep, anything you want. I’ll let you do anything. What do you want, Tyler?”

I can’t hear Martha anymore, not when Vallie is around. I hear Widor on repeat. It’s her and Widor’s commanding and expressive notes, and me… And Donnie. I can share her with my twin; hell, it’s as though we are the same person anyway.

Moseying around in her bathroom, I search the cabinets for the Lidocaine she put on the fresh gashes across the back of my hands.

With everything I need—Lidocaine, Sharpie, knife—I sit on the mattress beside her and coat her soft bicep in cream. I apply it liberally. And when it soaks in, I apply more.

After thirty minutes, the site should be numb, so I use my finger to manoeuvre the implant under her skin until the end protrudes. I dot the place with the marker. It’s pink.

That’s her favourite colour.

She is so still, drugged and silent—pretty.

Tyler, this is right.

This is so right.