Contents (64)
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- PROLOGUE HIM
- CHAPTER ONE AUDREY
- CHAPTER TWO CAT
- CHAPTER THREE AUDREY
- CHAPTER FOUR CAT
- CHAPTER FIVE AUDREY
- CHAPTER SIX CAT
- CHAPTER SEVEN HIM
- CHAPTER EIGHT AUDREY
- CHAPTER NINE AUDREY
- CHAPTER TEN HIM
- CHAPTER ELEVEN CAT
- CHAPTER TWELVE AUDREY
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN HIM
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN AUDREY
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN HIM
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN CAT
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN AUDREY
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN CAT
- CHAPTER NINETEEN HIM
- CHAPTER TWENTY AUDREY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE CAT
- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO AUDREY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE AUDREY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR HIM
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE CAT
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX AUDREY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN HIM
- CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT CAT
- CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE HIM
- CHAPTER THIRTY AUDREY
- CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE CAT
- CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO AUDREY
- CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE AUDREY
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR AUDREY
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE CAT
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX AUDREY
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN AUDREY
- CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT HIM
- CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE CAT
- CHAPTER FORTY AUDREY
- CHAPTER FORTY-ONE HIM
- CHAPTER FORTY-TWO AUDREY
- CHAPTER FORTY-THREE AUDREY
- CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR CAT
- CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE HIM
- CHAPTER FORTY-SIX AUDREY
- CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN AUDREY
- CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT HIM
- CHAPTER FORTY-NINE AUDREY
- CHAPTER FIFTY CAT
- CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE AUDREY
- CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO CAT
- CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE AUDREY
- CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR HIM
- CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE CAT
- CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX AUDREY
- CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN MAX
- CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT CAT
- CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE AUDREY
- CHAPTER SIXTY MAX
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PATHETIC, I CHASTISED MYSELF. Utterly pathetic. It’s no wonder Audrey isn’t yours. You don’t deserve to even tread the same ground as her.
I punched my fist into my thigh, hard enough to make myself wince. This couldn’t be who I was. In all other aspects of my life, I was more than competent: I had a decent job with benefits and a healthy 401(k); I maintained a carefully researched program of running and lifting weights; I laundered my sheets and towels with regularity. But where a woman—where Audrey—was concerned, I morphed into an embarrassing, irredeemable mess. I couldn’t do anything right, couldn’t even pull off sending flowers without turning it into an international incident.
Pathetic.
Oh, but she had loved those flowers. Seeing her smell them, lightly touching the blooms with a pleased smile, had been worth it. I was glad I had insisted upon the completely orange bouquet. The florist had urged me against it, had suggested I add in some different colors “for interest,” but I had held firm. I wanted Audrey to know I knew her favorite color. I wanted her to know that I understood her.
And then I had gone and screwed it all up.
Stupid, pathetic idiot, I thought, punching myself again, harder. No wonder you’re alone.
As my thigh throbbed, I realized that wasn’t true. I wasn’t alone. I had the Overexposed forums. The men there had never let me down; they’d been there for me as I agonized over Sabrina, Aly, and the other women I’d used as substitutes for Audrey. They would help me.
I grabbed my laptop and logged into the forums, but then hesitated, unsure where to post. Like dozens of other top-tier bloggers and social media influencers, Audrey had her own thread. I’d visited it on occasion and always regretted it. None of the men who posted there truly understood Audrey or even wanted to. All they wanted to do was share screen-captured images with disgusting, filthy captions and upload pictures they’d created by pasting Audrey’s face onto the bodies of various adult actresses.
Her dedicated thread would be the absolute worst place to post, and so instead I clicked through to the Relationships subforum within the Off-Topic forum, the same place where I had written about Sabrina and Aly. There, I posted a lengthy confessional about where things stood and what I had done. Instantly, I felt lighter. Help would come.
I read the comments as they began appearing. Some encouraged me; some gently ribbed me for being such a disastrous fool about the whole thing. Okay, I thought, nodding. I deserved that. But as the comments continued to pile up without a single actionable suggestion, I began to get frustrated. Where was the help I needed? The help I was counting on?
I was about to close my laptop when I received a direct message from a user calling himself pm-me-nudes:
Hey bro. Saw your post, thought you might find this interesting. https://www.objectofaffection.com/vip-forums/2017041825 You have to be VIP to see it. If you’re not already registered as a VIP, click here: https://www.objectofaffection.com/vip-forums/register and use my invite code: pm-me-nudes-inviteARQ573. Good luck.