pick up a few things on my way home. Just wanted to see if there’s anything we need.”
She ran through a few items then said, “I’m not home either. The stupid washer finally died, so I’m at the Laundromat.”
“Crap. I’ll take a look at it when I get home.”
“I think we’re gonna have to break down and actually call a repairman.”
“No.” Jordan was insistent. “I want to look it over first.”
Kyla rolled her eyes. It wasn’t like they couldn’t afford a repairman’s visit. Jordan just had that male pride thing going on. He worked with big machines every day and couldn’t let some household appliance get the better of him. “I’ll be home in about an hour.”
“Okay. I’ll get dinner started.”
Kyla ended the call and sighed. Groceries. Laundry. Dinner. Everyday, mundane topics. That was what they’d been doing all week, focusing on the mundane to keep from thinking about last weekend’s romp with Cassie. To avoid talking about it.
Methodically she sorted all of Jordan’s crunchy socks and nasty jeans into one pile. Once that was done, she began on his shirts. Hold on, what’s this?
One of his T-shirts had a red streak near the collar. What the hell? She held it up and examined the stain more closely. For a moment boiling jealousy surged through her. But the red mark was only jelly, most likely dribbled there from a doughnut that gave way.
Kyla laughed softly to herself, shaking her head in relief. How stupid. Jordan wasn’t the kind of man who’d let some bitch kiss on him. Her laughter stopped abruptly as she remembered that he’d kissed, and done much more, with Cassie.
Those memories sent a different rush of heat through her, one that had nothing to do with jealousy. Their threesome was hot and sexy and tender, yet thinking of it now also made Kyla sad. Cassie wasn’t some faceless hoochie. She was their friend. And Kyla hadn’t spoken to her all week. Hadn’t called her once.
She didn’t know what to do. She and Jordan were still sorting out their feelings, dancing around each other. But it was a shitty move, treating Cassie like a booty call, and Kyla felt guilty as hell. Cass didn’t deserve to be frozen out like some nasty hookup they just wanted to forget.
The more she thought about it, the guiltier she felt. And the more pissed off, at Jordan and herself, for acting like a couple of babies.
“The hell with this,” she muttered, scooping up the dirty clothes and dumping them back in the basket. Laundry would just have to wait. She needed to talk to Cassie.
* * * *
Jordan aimlessly pushed his shopping cart down the aisle. Though he’d spoken to Ky only a few minutes ago, he couldn’t quite remember what she told him they needed. Paper towels, had she said? Ah, what the hell? He tossed a couple of rolls into the cart.
Lately his concentration was shot to hell. Maybe because it took so much of it to act as if everything was normal between him and Kyla. Pretending that their threesome with Cassie had never happened.
As he turned into the next aisle he spotted a tall blonde near the detergent. Jordan froze. Shit . Was it Cassie? Quickly he backed up, retreating to the row of paper products. He shook his head, thoroughly disgusted with himself. Chickenshit much?
If it was Cassie, he wouldn’t blame her if she greeted him with a punch in the gut. He had it coming for being such a putz. He was ashamed of himself—not for the threesome, but for the way he and Ky had treated her since then.
He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Grow a friggin’ pair, would you, Brougham? He headed back to the cleaning aisle, almost hoping the blonde was Cassie and that she’d deliver the sucker punch he so richly deserved. Maybe then he could stop feeling so guilty.
Now the blonde was facing him, and a cool wave of relief washed over him. It wasn’t Cassie. The woman noticed him looking at her and gave him a smile as she rolled her cart past his. He nodded back
She ran through a few items then said, “I’m not home either. The stupid washer finally died, so I’m at the Laundromat.”
“Crap. I’ll take a look at it when I get home.”
“I think we’re gonna have to break down and actually call a repairman.”
“No.” Jordan was insistent. “I want to look it over first.”
Kyla rolled her eyes. It wasn’t like they couldn’t afford a repairman’s visit. Jordan just had that male pride thing going on. He worked with big machines every day and couldn’t let some household appliance get the better of him. “I’ll be home in about an hour.”
“Okay. I’ll get dinner started.”
Kyla ended the call and sighed. Groceries. Laundry. Dinner. Everyday, mundane topics. That was what they’d been doing all week, focusing on the mundane to keep from thinking about last weekend’s romp with Cassie. To avoid talking about it.
Methodically she sorted all of Jordan’s crunchy socks and nasty jeans into one pile. Once that was done, she began on his shirts. Hold on, what’s this?
One of his T-shirts had a red streak near the collar. What the hell? She held it up and examined the stain more closely. For a moment boiling jealousy surged through her. But the red mark was only jelly, most likely dribbled there from a doughnut that gave way.
Kyla laughed softly to herself, shaking her head in relief. How stupid. Jordan wasn’t the kind of man who’d let some bitch kiss on him. Her laughter stopped abruptly as she remembered that he’d kissed, and done much more, with Cassie.
Those memories sent a different rush of heat through her, one that had nothing to do with jealousy. Their threesome was hot and sexy and tender, yet thinking of it now also made Kyla sad. Cassie wasn’t some faceless hoochie. She was their friend. And Kyla hadn’t spoken to her all week. Hadn’t called her once.
She didn’t know what to do. She and Jordan were still sorting out their feelings, dancing around each other. But it was a shitty move, treating Cassie like a booty call, and Kyla felt guilty as hell. Cass didn’t deserve to be frozen out like some nasty hookup they just wanted to forget.
The more she thought about it, the guiltier she felt. And the more pissed off, at Jordan and herself, for acting like a couple of babies.
“The hell with this,” she muttered, scooping up the dirty clothes and dumping them back in the basket. Laundry would just have to wait. She needed to talk to Cassie.
* * * *
Jordan aimlessly pushed his shopping cart down the aisle. Though he’d spoken to Ky only a few minutes ago, he couldn’t quite remember what she told him they needed. Paper towels, had she said? Ah, what the hell? He tossed a couple of rolls into the cart.
Lately his concentration was shot to hell. Maybe because it took so much of it to act as if everything was normal between him and Kyla. Pretending that their threesome with Cassie had never happened.
As he turned into the next aisle he spotted a tall blonde near the detergent. Jordan froze. Shit . Was it Cassie? Quickly he backed up, retreating to the row of paper products. He shook his head, thoroughly disgusted with himself. Chickenshit much?
If it was Cassie, he wouldn’t blame her if she greeted him with a punch in the gut. He had it coming for being such a putz. He was ashamed of himself—not for the threesome, but for the way he and Ky had treated her since then.
He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Grow a friggin’ pair, would you, Brougham? He headed back to the cleaning aisle, almost hoping the blonde was Cassie and that she’d deliver the sucker punch he so richly deserved. Maybe then he could stop feeling so guilty.
Now the blonde was facing him, and a cool wave of relief washed over him. It wasn’t Cassie. The woman noticed him looking at her and gave him a smile as she rolled her cart past his. He nodded back
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