The Bromance Book Club (Bromance Book Club, #1)(7)



Or, worse, he preferred the sanitized Thea.

At the sound of his clearing throat, Thea finally turned around. The shadows beneath his eyes were more pronounced under the kitchen lights, like twin bruises. He really did look awful. Gavin could never handle the hard stuff. And she didn’t just mean alcohol.

She slid her glass across the island toward him. “Do you want an aspirin?”

“Already took some.”

“Didn’t help?”

“Not really.” He cocked a half smile. His hand wrapped around the glass she’d just shared, his thumb rubbing up and down the cool condensation. There was no holding back the zing of surprised longing that made certain parts of her ache and other parts tingle. She had either reached pathetic level bless her heart or was just starved for affection if the sight of his thumb distractedly stroking a glass of water could make her pink parts stand at attention. He hadn’t touched her since that night—the night of the Big O-No. But despite what he apparently believed, she had always loved being touched by him. She had never faked that.

Damn him. “I want to keep the house.”

Gavin cocked his head as if he didn’t hear her correctly. Like a dog. “W-what?”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I won’t need as much child support if you’re willing to pay it off for the girls and me. I’ll work, obviously, but—”

Gavin pushed the glass away. “Thea—”

“I think things would have been easier for Liv and me if Dad hadn’t sold the house after he left Mom. And since this is the only house the girls have ever known—” Her voice caught. She sucked in a breath to cover it up. “We need to tell them together. I’m not sure when the right time is, though. Before the holidays? After the holidays? I don’t know. I don’t even know if they’ll understand what it means. They still think you’re just off playing baseball, but that’s not going to hold much longer—”

“Thea, stop!”

The staccato of his voice was as jarring as it was atypical. Thea jumped in her own skin. “Stop what?”

“I don’t want this.”

“The house?”

“No! Fuck!” He dragged his hands across his hair. “I mean, yes. I want the house. I w-w-want you and the girls in the house.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I want you!”

Thea’s mouth dropped open. Surprise stole her voice for a moment before cynicism gave it back. “Stop, Gavin. It’s too late for this.”

Gavin squeezed the edge of the counter until veins protruded from his thick forearms.

“No, it’s not.”

“It’s best to do this now while the girls are still young and won’t remember . . .” She couldn’t finish the sentence over a sudden thickness in her throat. She didn’t have time for this emotional crap.

Gavin’s face hardened. “Remember what? That their parents were ever married?”

“I’d rather they never remember that than be forced to endure the pain of their family being torn apart.”

“Then let’s keep our family together.”

“You tore it apart the minute you moved out.”

“You told me to leave, Thea!”

“And you couldn’t go fast enough.”

His mouth opened and closed for a moment before he blurted, “I needed time to think.”

“And now you’ll have all the time you need.”

Gavin bent, dropped his elbows on the island, and held his head in his hands. “This isn’t going the way I w-wanted.”

Thea bolted away from the counter. “Really? How exactly did you imagine this going? Because you seem to think that all you had to do was show up here, and I’d just smile and pretend everything was fine. I’ve been doing that for three years, Gavin. I’m done.”

She headed back to the wall. She needed to hit something again.

“Wh-what the hell does that mean?” he asked, following closely behind.

“It means that orgasms were the least of our problems!” That’s what pissed her off the most. He was mad at her for faking it in bed, but didn’t he know she’d been faking everything for years?

Thea picked up the bat and swung as hard as she could. Another hole appeared in the wall.

“Thea, wait,” Gavin said, wrapping his fingers around the bat to stop her from swinging again. “Please, just listen to me for a second.”

She spun around. “We’re beyond the listening stage, Gavin. I’ve asked you to listen to me a thousand times since that night, and you refused!”

“Not everything about that night was awful, Thea.”

Thea advanced on him, propelled by pent-up rage. “Are you kidding me? You think now is a good time to remind me of your glorious grand slam?”

It would be funny if it weren’t so not funny. The perfect pun. The night of his greatest career achievement—a walk-off grand slam in the sixth game of the American League Championship series—was the night of an even bigger home run in bed for Thea.

“I’m talking about what we did after the game,” Gavin said, closing the distance between them, lowering his voice to a seductive tone. “That wasn’t awful.”

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