And with that, he carries me down the hall, laying me gently in bed before slipping away to the kitchen to cook dinner for his three beautiful ladies.

Chapter 20

Excuses – Kerry

“It’s a damn shame I had to unfollow that Krista Ray bitch,” Serena grumbles, scrolling through her phone with a sigh. “That hoe sure does post the best ten-minute recipe videos. Is she still giving you hell? Do we need to jump her, or nah?”

I snort, shaking my head. “Oh, Serena! If we weren’t in our thirties, and I wasn’t trying to get my career back on track, the answer would be hell yeah. But no,” I sigh, propping my feet up on the ottoman. “Besides, I can’t get mad over a man who isn’t really mine.”

My best friends and I are sprawled across my living room, wine glasses half-full as they help me finalize last-minute details for the annual Fall Festival. It’s been the perfect distraction from Vic—from the way he looks at me, from the way he treats me, from the way my heart wants him in ways it shouldn’t.

“He’s as much your man as Hudson is Serena’s,” Kiera points out, shooting Serena a knowing look.

Izzy sits up straighter, eyes wide in shock. “Hold the hell up. Have I been so busy that I missed the tea? Rena, you’re out here hitting home runs while Kerry hasn’t even made it to second base?”

Serena cackles, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Girl, I’ve been to the World Series… dozens of times. Hudson Grimes can’t get enough of me!”

They erupt into laughter, but I groan and sink deeper into the couch. “You gotta teach me your ways because this is embarrassing. I shouldn’t be this inexperienced at thirty-five.” I pause, exhaling sharply. “I shouldn’t be so damn scared to hit a home run.”

Their laughter fades, humor replaced with quiet understanding.

I swallow hard and continue. “I have so much pent-up sexual frustration combined with actual, real, scary feelings for him. It’s driving me insane, and I don’t know what to do. I just can’t fake what feels real anymore.”

“You fuck it out, that’s what you do.” Serena shrugs.

We all explode into laughter, but my chest tightens. “Y’all know how I feel about sex,” I murmur, fiddling with the hem of my shirt. “I had nearly fifteen years of bad sex—painful, sadistic, one-sided sex. I can’t go down that road again.”