He opened the door and David charged in, face tight and furious. “You piece of shit. You better not have touched her. Where is she?”

“The child bride is otherwise occupied.” Mal cocked his head, taking David in with a cool glance. “Why the f**k do you even care?”

“Don’t start with me. Where is she?”

Quietly, Mal shut the door, facing off against his friend. I hesitated, hanging back. Alright, so I skulked in a cowardly fashion. Whatever.

Mal crossed his arms. “You left her to face Adrian and three lawyers on her own. You, my friend, are most definitely the piece of shit in this particular scenario.”

“I didn’t know Adrian would go at her with all that.”

“You didn’t want to know,” said Mal. “Lie to everyone else out there, Dave. Not me. And sure as f**k not to yourself.”

“Back off.”

“You need some serious life advice, friend.”

“Who are you, Oprah?”

Coughing out a laugh, Mal slumped against the wall. “Hell, yeah. Soon I’m gonna be giving out cars, so stick around.”

“What did she say?”

“Who, Oprah?”

David just scowled at him. He didn’t even notice me spying. Sad to say, even a scowling David was a thing of rare beauty. He did things to me. Complicated things. My heart tripped about in my chest. The anger and emotion in his voice couldn’t be concern for me. That made no sense, not after last night and this morning. I had to be projecting and it sucked that I even wanted him to care. My head made no sense. Getting away from this guy was the safest option all round.

“Dave, she was so upset she took a swing at me.”

“Bullshit.”

“I kid you not. She was nearly in tears when I found her,” said Mal.

I banged my forehead in silent agony against the wall. Why the hell did Mal have to tell him that?

My husband hung his head. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Seems you didn’t mean for a shitload to happen.” Mal shook his head and tutted. “Did you even mean to marry her, dude? Seriously?”

David’s face screwed up, his brow doing the wrinkly James Dean thing again. “I don’t know anymore, okay? Fuck. I went to Vegas because I was so sick of all this shit and I met her. She was different. She seemed different that night. I just … I wanted something outside of all this f**king idiocy for a change.”

“Poor Davey. Did being a rock god get old?”

“Where is she?”

“I feel your manpain, bro. Really, I do. I mean, all you wanted was a girl that wouldn’t kiss your ass for once and now you’re pissed at her for the same damn reason. It’s complicated, right?”

“Fuck you. Leave it alone, Mal. It’s done.” My husband huffed out a breath. “Anyway, she’s the one who wanted the f**king divorce. Why aren’t you giving her the third degree, huh?”

With a dramatic sigh, Mal flung out his arms. “Because she’s really busy hiding around the corner, listening. I can’t disturb her now.”

David’s body stilled and his blue eyes found me. “Evelyn.”

Huh. Busted.

I stepped away from the wall and tried to put on a happy face. It didn’t work. “Hi.”

“She says that so well.” Mal turned to me and winked. “So did you really ask the mighty David Ferris for a divorce?”

“She threw up on me when I told her we were married,” my husband reported.

“What?” Mal dissolved into laughter, tears leaking from his eyes. “Are you serious? Fucking hell, that is fantastic. Oh, man, I wish I’d been there.”

I gave David what I hoped to be the meanest look in all of time and space. He stared back, unimpressed.

“It was the floor,” I clarified. “I didn’t throw up on him.”

“That time,” said David.

“Please keep going,” said Mal, laughing harder than ever. “This just gets better and better.”

David didn’t. Thank God.

“Seriously, I f**king love your wife, man. She’s awesome. Can I have her?”

The look I got from David spoke of a much more reluctant affection. With the line between his brows, it was closer to outright irritation. I blew him a kiss. He looked away, hands fisted like he was barely holding himself back from throttling me. The feeling was entirely mutual.

Ah, marital bliss.

“You two are just the best.” A chiming sound came from Mal’s pocket and he pulled out a cell phone. Whatever he saw on the screen stopped his laughter dead. “You know, you should take her to your house, Dave.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” David’s mouth pulled wide in a truly pained expression.

I didn’t think it was a good idea either. Happily, I’d go through life without setting foot inside the house of horrors ever again. Maybe if I asked Mal nicely he’d fetch my stuff for me. Imposing on him further didn’t appeal, but I was running low on options.

“Whoa.” With a grim face, Mal shoved his cell at David.

“Fuck,” David mumbled. He wrapped his hand around the back of his neck and squeezed. The worried glance he gave me from beneath his dark brows set every alarm ringing inside my head. Whatever was on that screen was bad.

Really bad.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Oh, you, ah … you don’t need to worry about it.” His gaze dropped to the phone again then he passed it back to Mal. “My place would be cool, actually. We should do that. Fun. Yeah.”

“No.” For David to be so nice to me it had to be something truly bad. I held out my hand, fingers twitching from impatience or nerves or a bit of both. “Show me.”

After a reluctant nod from David, Mal handed it over.

There could be no doubting what it was, even on the small screen. There was a lot of skin on account of my being bare from the waist down. My na**d butt sat front and centre in all its pale, dimpled glory. God, it looked huge. Had they used a wide lens camera or something? The party dress had been pushed up and I stood, bent over a table while a tattoo artist worked hard inking my rear. My panties had been cinched down, barely covering the basics. Shit. Talk about a compromising position. Taking part in a  p**n  shoot was definitely not part of the plan.

At the other end of the frame, our faces were close together and David was smiling. Huh. So that was what he looked like when he smiled.




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