Anywhere With You by Britney King Read Free Book Online Page B

God,” she cried, her hand flying to her mouth.
    I took her by the shoulders. “Go get in the shower. I’ve got this.”
    She considered what I was proposing for a second, connecting the dots. Finally, she nodded. And then she turned, walked to the bathroom and closed the door. I picked my t-shirt up, slid it over my head, giving her enough time to run the shower before I went to the door and opened it.
    Standing there before me was none other than one pissed off looking man. “I’ve been calling all morning,” he said hurriedly, which seemed to be all he could get out. And that’s what he led with.
    I ran my fingers through my hair and tried out my best sleepy, gay voice. “I’m sorry, brother,” I told him sleepily as I rubbed at my eyes. “I just woke up.”
    His anger dissipated but only a little. I could tell he wasn’t sold so I stepped aside and ushered him inside. “I got in late,” I added with a decent fake yawn. “Turns out Boston’s a playground for boys like me.”
    He eyed me up and down, looking quite perplexed and unsure of what to say. “Jack,” I said, extending my hand as flamboyantly as I could muster.
    “Ian.” He nodded. But he didn’t shake my hand.
    The trouble was this could only mean one of two things. Either he bought my story. Or he didn’t.
     

     
     

Eight
    Amelie
    Being backed against the wall only gets you screwed…
    I honestly didn’t know what to make of my current situation. I was in a low mood. That’s about as much as I knew. Very, very low. But I was hiding it well. That was the good news.
    The bad news was sleeping with Jack. It was a mistake—a gigantic fucking mistake of epic proportions. That’s the best way I can think to describe it. And the worst part was I didn’t even have the drinking or being hungover to blame. There was nothing but my poor decision-making to blame. The truth was, these days I don’t even get hungover anymore. They say that can be a sign of alcoholism. But I’m not an alcoholic. I know this because I took one of those ‘am I an alcoholic tests’ you can find online, and sure enough, it confirmed what I already knew—that I’m just a girl who likes to have fun. Which is exactly what I thought I was doing with Jack Harrison—until I realized what I was actually doing was giving him an in.
    To add to the bitter taste of regret, there was also the fact that Ian was acting incredibly strange. Then again, Ian always acted strange. But this time, I was worried. It’s been exactly sixty-seven days—if my count was correct—since he had slept with the twenty-year-old intern down in marketing. I know this because Ian is the sort of guy who marks his affairs on his calendar. And every so often, I like to take a peek—just to ensure that I’m not wrong.
    Although I use the term ‘affair’ loosely because, the truth is—I don’t care. It doesn’t bother me in the least that he sleeps around on occasion. I know that sounds bad—made even worse by the fact that he thinks we’re exclusive when he’s so obviously getting his on the side. As for me, I’ve very carefully dabbled here and there—but just once or twice. For the most part, I simply pour myself into my work. I don’t really care what Ian does with the girl from marketing or the other one who lives in his building down the hall—because the truth of the matter is, I don’t see much of a future with Ian. Why I’m still with him, when I know this, well—that is a very good question. One with a very complex answer. The answer being something I’ve thought about over and over during my darker days. For one, there’s the fact that as long as I am ‘with him,’ I don’t have to be with anyone else. Ian is a safety net. He’s a safe bet, and with him, I know exactly what I’m getting. Each and every time, I might add.
    Mainly, though, there’s the issue of the ‘the very bad thing.’ This is what Ian likes to remind me of when I pull away. This is also