Jack, Troy, Marion by Faleena Hopkins

Author:Faleena Hopkins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

11

TROY

What am I going to do with the stone pole between my legs and the naked ballerina glaring at me from the couch?

I pick up the dress he forgot to give her so she can cover up. Poor guy. It took everything he had to make that choice. I have no clue what that must have felt like. I’m not in his shoes.

To a degree, though, I get it. I want her so bad I’m still licking my lips for the taste hers left behind. I saw his fingers touch her seam, and by the look in his eyes, she was drenched.

My cock is pounding.

Is she going to try to make him pay by seeing if she can fuck me right here and now, just to spite him for running out like that? Mar’s thinking about it. I can see it in her conniving eyes.

She sighs and drops her head on the back of the couch in defeat. “Fine. I’m not going to beg you, Troy. Get over yourself.”

My jaw ticks, because ego has nothing to do with this. Or does it? Who knows? Who can think? My blood left my brain when she dropped her dress.

Handing it to her, I grunt, “Here.”

She snatches it so fast it’s audible. “Why didn’t you convince him?”

“I would never do that.”

“Weak?”

“You have any friends, Marion? Real friends?” Her eyelashes flutter as I sit on the red ottoman. “Like that guy who came to visit…Logan?”

Pulling the dress over her head, she mutters an irritated, “He’s not my friend.”

“You told me you’ve been training together since you were kids. Isn’t he in that picture?” I point to the one where Marion is around nine or ten. I can’t tell. I’m bad with ages. Rising up, I snatch the pink frame and hold it out. “He’s in this, right? That’s a long time to know somebody.”

“We’re not friends! We are acquaintances. He’s Samantha Cocker’s best friend. Not my friend.”

I set the memory down and lean against the wall by it. “You’re a stubborn woman, you know that?”

Her huge eyes flicker and she glances away from me. “Thank you for not saying ‘girl.’”

Glancing over to the cute kids dressed in western-wear, I can’t tell which is Samantha. “You know a Cocker? I’ve met a few at my old bar. Good people.”

Marion groans dramatically. “I am so sick of hearing how good they are! So what?! So what if they are nice?! They’ve never been hurt! They don’t have infidelity in their lives! Their parents are all fucking perfect!”

My eyebrows go up and I walk over to sit across from her, picking up the ottoman and sitting on it even thought it’s too short for my long legs. I can see Marion’s face better this way. And I’m starting to see other things more clearly, too. “You think you’re the only one who’s been hurt?”

She frowns, lips tightening. “They—”

“—How do you know, Marion? You think they’d publicize it if they had problems? Everyone knows who they are in this city.

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