How to Honeymoon Alone

by Olivia Hayle

Someone who’ll sleep with their best friend’s fiancé is not a friend I want.

“I get the sense that you’re not feeling like your best self,” I say. “If you want to talk about it, I’m a good listener. But it’s perfectly all right if you don’t want to.”

“I’ve found that gold stars can be very motivating.”

I didn’t answer her all-caps question.

“I’m a perfect angel.”

“Well, rules were meant to be broken.”

A hand curves lightly around my waist, and then his voice is by my ear. His breath tickles my skin. “Sit back properly, Eden,” he says. “It’s safer.”

So I do what he says.

My eyes land on his large hands. One of them had been on my bare thigh.

“I’m not drunk,” I say. “I’m tipsy. There’s a massive difference.”

“Well, I think women are drawn to true crime because it lets us explore the dark side of human nature from a safe distance. It’s like a puzzle we can be a part of solving.” I tilt my head. “I’ve also heard that some can feel empowered, weirdly enough, since women are most often the victims in these stories. Like, listening to true crime is almost instructional, on a subconscious level.”

He turns to face me fully. “You’ve been looking for me?” he asks and sounds inordinately pleased by that fact.

“Oh yeah?”

“I like winning… and I like making sure the woman I’m with wins, too. Several times.”

“Keeping secrets, Meyer? From your new wife?” He chuckles. “Only ones she’s not ready to hear, yeah.”

“Mmm. Hate it when they run out halfway through,”

but it’s not the salvation I was looking for. It just makes me need him more

He pats my thigh. “As much as I like you here, you’re going to have to release me, baby.”

“Good thing you’re a self-controlled lawyer with the discipline of steel.” He glances down at my legs. “I used to be,” he mutters. “Now, I’m someone who competes in sack racing.”

clothed. I’m about to protest that fact when he spins me around. We stand in front of the mirror, him at my back. In the reflection, his eyes are heated. “Look,” he mutters, and wraps an arm around my bare waist. “You’re so unbelievably hot.” I look.

“You did,” I say and walk backward toward the bedroom. “But I don’t like doing what I’m told.”

“I need to fuck you now.”

It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.

“Yes. God, you take me so good.”

“Bossy, aren’t you?”

“That’s it,” he murmurs and slides a finger inside me. “God, you’re pretty.”