Page 50 of Her Filthy Grump
“That’s what my friend, Rich, keeps saying, but it was….” Heartbreaking? Hardly. Devastating? Not really. More of a relief that I could end things with her. “Humiliating.”
He stands and scoots the chair under the table. “It sounds like she’s a shitty person, and the guy is a real cocksucker, but why are you projecting that onto Layla? Did she do something to violate your trust besides pick up your cell phone? Why did she have it? Did you ask?”
“I didn’t ask.” I swallow. Fuck. Now I look like the cocksucker. You’d think the way my life’s been going, I’d have dropped a fucking mirror on the floor and shattered it.
Did it ring?I rack my brain, trying to remember what I heard from the bathroom.Buzzing.I roll my eyes to the ceiling and stare at the fire suppression system. Buzzing. My alarm was going off–again.
Fuck.I pushed her away because she didn’t want to hear my snooze going off.Way to go, dumbass.
“Maybe you should apologize.” He presses his lips together.
“Yeah,” I sigh. “You’re probably right about that.”
He waves and exits the kitchenette. A lot of good that’s going to do me. She hates my guts. When I finally had balls enough to exit her bathroom, she was nowhere to be seen. Dude, you’ve got some major groveling to do.
Chapter Thirty-One
Layla
I grab my strappy sandal and hop on one foot throughout the living room while trying to work the strap around my ankle. Before I can get it fastened, my cell phone rings. I growl under my breath. I don’t have time for this. I’m already late. I’m always late.
Instead of racing to the phone, I continue with my mission. Whoever it is can wait. I need to be at Mr. Campos’ house in ten minutes. There’s no time for distractions.
I weave the material through the hook and lock it in place. Once I have both shoes on, I twirl in a circle and let the fabric brush against my legs. Not bad for a night out on the town with an almost eighty-year-old man.
The phone rings again. Who in the hell won’t leave me alone?Kameron?My heart thunders in my chest. Nope. No way am I talking to him.
I run to the coffee table and snatch the rectangular device into my hand.Harbor. Damnit.
You’re full of shit. If he called, you’d drop everything and listen. You can pretend all you want that he hasn’t been on your mind all day.
No–I’m not a homewrecker. I straighten my shoulders and lift the phone to my ear. “Hey, Harbor.”
“What took you so long to answer?” The irritation in her voice rings through the air. “You went out with Kameron last night, and then, all I get is radio silence.”
“He’s an asshole,” I mutter and fall into the sofa. A light coating of dust flips into the air, causing me to sneeze.
“Gesundheit. Did he force himself on you?”
I scrunch my face together. “I said he was an asshole, not a rapist. He was gentle and caring.”
“Tell me more.”
I sigh and prop my feet up on the coffee table. “We went toLa Masa’s. It was perfect. We came back here and had sex.”
“Oh, my gosh. I can’t believe it. I’m so happy for you.”
“I was too, until this morning.” The pulse in my temple jumps. “Everything was great until I picked up his phone to turn off his alarm, and he snapped.”
“Why? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It does if he’s married, and I’m the other woman.” I’m not about to tell her we had unprotected sex. It’s horrible enough I had sex with a married man.
She gasps. “He said that?”
“No. Why would he?”
“Layla Marie Monroe. Stop jumping to conclusions. I can’t believe you think he’s married and didn’t even ask him.”