Between Us (All of Us Book 1) by Cheyenne Cierra

Between Us (All of Us Book 1) by Cheyenne Cierra

Author:Cheyenne Cierra [Cierra, Cheyenne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-08-13T18:30:00+00:00


T W E N T Y T H R E E

I guess I could say things are normal.

That everything’s going just the way I hoped it would—better, actually. Trenton’s done with me and I’m done with him. No if’s, and’s, or but’s.

But I’m still not happy.

I never thought I’d be jealous of a teenage girl, but I am. I miss being that close to Trenton, having his eyes on me, my hand in his. He made me feel like the only woman on Earth, and now I just feel stupid for buying it all. Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time, Aubree?

There was no special connection between us, I was just his coming of age conquest, the forbidden fruit, the MILF—as I’ve been referred to more times than I can count by Diesel’s friends—and now I’m just back to being Mrs. C.

We’re just leaving the Cheesecake Factory—Diesel and Roger’s banter beside my ear has already gotten old and we’ve only been in the car for about five minutes. Diesel decided he’d come back with us since his father’s in town and that seems to be the only time he ever does want to be home these days.

I ignored both of them and fled the steps as soon as we got inside. They couldn’t care less. The rest of their night will consist of junk food, video games, and the never-ending round of would you rather. Roger never grew up, and now that Diesel’s put himself in the same jam his father did at his age, I can only imagine he’ll be a teen forever just like him.

I took a bubblebath with a bottle of wine. Old habits die hard.

This is the part where I pick through my lingerie drawer until I settle on a set that I think will finally blow Roger’s mind, but truthfully I couldn’t be more disinterested in sex—with Roger.

Only thing I’m interested in is what dirty read I’m curling up with in the den tonight and how many more glasses of wine I’ll need to pass out there. I swear my tolerance is skyrocketing and soon I may have to permanently switch over to hard liquor.

I put on a pajama dress that looks like a long, striped t-shirt, and tied my damp hair up in a messy bun because no one’s looked at me since we left the restaurant anyway. As I bounce down the stairs I hear that familiar crippling laugh that makes my ab muscles constrict like someone’s brushed a feather over my stomach, and I almost backtrack. No, I need that damn drink.

And better yet, I’m not letting Trenton’s presence stop me from doing what I wanted to do tonight: get drunk and horny all by myself.

I bypass the kitchen without even a glance at the men occupying my living room, and grab a fresh bottle from the wine rack that I just restocked this morning. He laughs again and I boycott the glass altogether in a rush to get away from him and his charming ways and lock myself in the den.



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