Bittersweet Revenge

Chapter Nine

"Rubes just get your ass over here! I'm about to crack, I can feel it!" I growl into the phone trying my hardest to keep my voice down so Roni can't hear me from the other room.

"Dude calm down! Why would you crack? What the hell is going on over there?"

"Just get over here before I ruin my life." There's a long silence coming from the other end so I continue. "....again."

"Mmhmmm, I'm on my way." I blow out all my frustration and end the call to my best friend.

I'm suddenly startled by the brunette sneaking up behind me. "Emma? Are you alright?" Her concern that I probably had a stroke after I blurted out cake, after she confessed her love for me, is very evident in her tone.

"Of course!" My face contorts into a weird cross between a disgusted pout and trying to pull off just how cool I am. Except my voice cracks like a twelve year old boy and totally blows my cover.

One perfectly sculpted eyebrow raises suspiciously as she glares at me, not believing a word I say. I swallow, nothing, because my mouth is as dry as the Sahara desert and I attempt to clear my throat.

"Did Ruby say she would come watch our children?"

"Yeah, yeah. She's on her way. Why don't we run upstairs and change before she gets here?" I roughly grab her shoulders, spin the woman around and push her toward the stairs. "I'm sure you'll enjoy wearing something other than pajama shorts and tank tops."

"We own nice clothing?" Roni asks over her shoulder as she we climb up the stairs.

"Uh...depends who you ask." I shrug my shoulders and rush toward our bedroom...my bedroom. Dammit!

I open our closet doors and toss Roni the nicest flannel button down I own while I search for something to wear as well.

"Well I guess I asked the wrong person," my fake wife mutters to herself prompting me to spin around so I can face her.

"What?"

"I asked if we had nice clothing and you said it depends who you ask...clearly I asked the wrong person because Emma this is not something nice."

The brunette holds the shirt in her one hand like she just stuck her hand in some gooey mud and is unsure what her next move should be. I guess Miss Mills is still in there, judging me, yet again.

"We are just going to the dive bar down the street, you'll fit right in with that on," I assure her as I nod my head toward the flannel, encouraging her to put it on.

Roni sighs heavily making sure I understand that she's not exactly thrilled about my choice of clothing. Her dainty fingers grip the hem of her tank top and in one swift motion she tears the tank away. I'm still trying to swallow with my sandpaper tongue but I think I'm just making things worse for my mouth.

Roni's plump chest is spilling over the tops of her bra. A bra that is actually mine and is way too small for her chest. For the most part she fits in everything I own except for the bras and I'm sure that's why most days when she's home all day she chooses not to wear one.

I've never in my life seen an exposed cleavage and thought to myself, I would love to stick my face in there, but now I'm standing here staring at her, and I'm thinking this might be something I would like to spend all my free time doing.

Roni must sense that I'm staring because she smirks and begins swaying her hips in a sultry manner toward me. I quickly avert my eyes but I'm not entirely sure where I should look. So like the dumbass I am, my eyes just shift back and forth at the ceiling.