Read Online Homewrecker (Into the Flames #1) by Cat Mason, Katheryn Kiden - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Cat Mason, Katheryn Kiden
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Slicing the bread, I add some butter to a few slices before taking the plate out to the table.
I can’t help thinking about the differences between Dixon and Gunnar and wonder why in the hell I let myself get into this mess to begin with. I’ve never been interested in Dixon that way, have I? For as long as I can remember it has always been Gunnar. It has to have been all the shit going on in my head lately mixed with all the alcohol I had. It was a mistake—a horrible mistake— that should have never happened in the first place. That’s the only reason to explain my temporary insanity.
The only problem is, what if it’s not?
Could there really be this whole other side of me that is begging to come out? Is that even possible? If so, what in the hell am I going to do about it? I can’t even begin to process this shit in my head, let alone try to talk to Gunnar about it. The one thing I do know for sure is he can never know what happened between Dixon and me. Not only would it kill him to know that I have been unfaithful, but finding out it was with his best friend, that would be the ultimate betrayal...
With all of our families spread out all over the country, except Gunnar’s dad, our group is a vital family unit. It’s our main support system and none of us can afford to lose that. This is just something I’m going to have to deal with. Will it make being around Dixon hard? Yeah, more than likely. But, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to protect Gunnar from this shit.
Pulling the lasagna from the oven, I make our plates before taking them to the table. I pour myself a glass of red wine and open a beer for Gunnar just as he walks out in a pair of baggy workout shorts.
“That smells fuckin’ amazing,” he says, sitting down at the table beside me. “I forgot to grab lunch so I’ve been starvin’ all fuckin’ day.”
“These fuckin’ shorts have been taunting me all day… All. Fuckin’. Day...”
I hear Dixon’s voice echoing in my head. My hands tremble, making me drop my fork onto my plate with a clatter.
“You OK over there, butterfingers?” Gunnar chuckles before shoving a huge fork full of pasta into his mouth. “You’re so jumpy.”
“Sorry,” I say, picking it up and slicing into my lasagna. “I’m tired. Didn’t sleep very well last night.”
“I’d say not,” Gunnar says, chuckling. Shaking his head, he reaches for a piece of bread and shoves in a mouthful. “Dixon’s couch is pretty brutal.”
“Huh, what?” I ask, grabbing for my wine and taking a long drink.
“I said I can’t imagine you sleeping at all on that damn couch of Dixon’s; it’s like sleeping on a bed of nails. I’ve been tellin’ that asshole for years to get another one, but he says that’ll only mean people will wanna stay there.”
“Can’t have that,” I reply, picking at my salad bowl.
Setting down his fork, Gunnar meets my eyes. “I was worried about you, Kennedy. You should never have driven. I don’t want to lose you, baby.” Reaching over, he takes my hand in his and presses his lips to the inside of my wrist. “I don’t like waking up and not finding you here with me.”
“I’m sorry, Gunnar,” I say, hating that it’s all I can seem to say to him today. “The last thing I ever wanted was for you to worry about me.”
Fuck, as if I could feel any worse. The fact is he was here, worrying about me driving, all while I was busy being fucked into oblivion by one of our best friends.
Gunnar nods. “I know you are, baby. I am too. I shouldn’t have been so harsh on the phone and I didn’t mean to be. But, I’m not gonna lie, it scared the shit out of me. I’m also not going to keep bitching about it anymore. You’re home, nothing bad happened, so let’s put it behind us.” Standing from the table, he takes his empty plate and bowl and stacks them before grabbing his beer, finishing it off in one long swallow. “Why don’t you go take a bath and relax? I’ll
I can’t help thinking about the differences between Dixon and Gunnar and wonder why in the hell I let myself get into this mess to begin with. I’ve never been interested in Dixon that way, have I? For as long as I can remember it has always been Gunnar. It has to have been all the shit going on in my head lately mixed with all the alcohol I had. It was a mistake—a horrible mistake— that should have never happened in the first place. That’s the only reason to explain my temporary insanity.
The only problem is, what if it’s not?
Could there really be this whole other side of me that is begging to come out? Is that even possible? If so, what in the hell am I going to do about it? I can’t even begin to process this shit in my head, let alone try to talk to Gunnar about it. The one thing I do know for sure is he can never know what happened between Dixon and me. Not only would it kill him to know that I have been unfaithful, but finding out it was with his best friend, that would be the ultimate betrayal...
With all of our families spread out all over the country, except Gunnar’s dad, our group is a vital family unit. It’s our main support system and none of us can afford to lose that. This is just something I’m going to have to deal with. Will it make being around Dixon hard? Yeah, more than likely. But, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to protect Gunnar from this shit.
Pulling the lasagna from the oven, I make our plates before taking them to the table. I pour myself a glass of red wine and open a beer for Gunnar just as he walks out in a pair of baggy workout shorts.
“That smells fuckin’ amazing,” he says, sitting down at the table beside me. “I forgot to grab lunch so I’ve been starvin’ all fuckin’ day.”
“These fuckin’ shorts have been taunting me all day… All. Fuckin’. Day...”
I hear Dixon’s voice echoing in my head. My hands tremble, making me drop my fork onto my plate with a clatter.
“You OK over there, butterfingers?” Gunnar chuckles before shoving a huge fork full of pasta into his mouth. “You’re so jumpy.”
“Sorry,” I say, picking it up and slicing into my lasagna. “I’m tired. Didn’t sleep very well last night.”
“I’d say not,” Gunnar says, chuckling. Shaking his head, he reaches for a piece of bread and shoves in a mouthful. “Dixon’s couch is pretty brutal.”
“Huh, what?” I ask, grabbing for my wine and taking a long drink.
“I said I can’t imagine you sleeping at all on that damn couch of Dixon’s; it’s like sleeping on a bed of nails. I’ve been tellin’ that asshole for years to get another one, but he says that’ll only mean people will wanna stay there.”
“Can’t have that,” I reply, picking at my salad bowl.
Setting down his fork, Gunnar meets my eyes. “I was worried about you, Kennedy. You should never have driven. I don’t want to lose you, baby.” Reaching over, he takes my hand in his and presses his lips to the inside of my wrist. “I don’t like waking up and not finding you here with me.”
“I’m sorry, Gunnar,” I say, hating that it’s all I can seem to say to him today. “The last thing I ever wanted was for you to worry about me.”
Fuck, as if I could feel any worse. The fact is he was here, worrying about me driving, all while I was busy being fucked into oblivion by one of our best friends.
Gunnar nods. “I know you are, baby. I am too. I shouldn’t have been so harsh on the phone and I didn’t mean to be. But, I’m not gonna lie, it scared the shit out of me. I’m also not going to keep bitching about it anymore. You’re home, nothing bad happened, so let’s put it behind us.” Standing from the table, he takes his empty plate and bowl and stacks them before grabbing his beer, finishing it off in one long swallow. “Why don’t you go take a bath and relax? I’ll
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