Chapter 3

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Liz Scott was one of my good friends in college. The kind of friend who makes you go outside the room and mingle with everyone. She always said that I was a bisexual man's daydream and a straight man's nightmare.

I never got what she said. Apparently, I was too intimidating for gay guys, too tempting for bisexual guys and too sensual for straight dudes.

I never went for one night stands. I went to clubs for dancing and spending time with my friends. That got me stares and occasional groping but never blatant sexual appreciation except from him.

And he was getting married. To Janice.

That was not supposed to hurt me but it did. I thought we were flirting, well, I felt we were flirting. Maybe we weren't. Maybe I read too much into innocent acts. Maybe that was how friends were.

I repeated that in my head but I knew we were. We hugged to long. We behaved a bit differently in public. I could not meet his eyes when my mom was near.

I thought he was attracted to me like a boyfriend.

I was.

I wanted to feel him.

But I was not going continue this. I would not stoop to that level. I would never be a home wrecker. I would never be anyone's dirty little secret or mistress. What was the male form of mistress, anyways? My morals would never allow me.

Snort.

How little did I know!

Remember when I said that everything came crashing down the day Aunt Marie announced about the marriage?

That did not cover the tip of the iceberg of what happened later on.

I went back to college after the announcement. I was really confused and more than a little hurt. I would not have led him on if I knew he was romantically interested in her. I was not that kind of a person.

The incident made me more focused on my studies. And study I did. No party, no clubs.

The feeling of heart break came back only when my mom asked me to come home for their marriage.

Robert weds Janice, elegantly written in golden letters, pricked my heart.

Robert was rich. He was new money and Janice might have hyped a little about her financial status. At least that was what I was presuming. Aunt Marie was talking about marriage in a church before I left to college and now two months later, my mom was funding a beach wedding? Aunt Marie was down to earth, happy-with-what-we-have lady. Janice? Not so much.

I tried my best to avoid going and my mom almost pulled my ears through the phone. How could I do that to Janice, she asked. Well what possibly could I tell her? That her best friend's daughter hated me? Or that I was attracted to... Not going to finish that sentence. He was nothing more than Janice's husband.

That hurt.

I shouldn't have gone. At least I should not have gone a week before the wedding. Mom insisted that she needed help with the organizing. She even pulled 'I have a gay son but no one to help me with the flowers.'

I should have told Mama the truth and stayed in dorms.

Because it was three days before the wedding the series of my unfortunate events started.

He came to my room drunk.

I was pouting and blaming my mom for planning these many games and parties for the guests. If this was the way she behaved for Janice's wedding, what was she going do for mine.

Another one of my shirts was ruined. I took a quick shower and was going through my suitcases for a new attire.

"You are so fucking gorgeous."

It was Robert, leaning heavily on my hotel room. He was so handsome even intoxicated. He was smiling and he had a very beautiful smile.

I gulped. I was avoiding him at all costs. I did not know how to proceed.

I put on a fake smile "Janice is with her friends at spa. They will be back in two hours."

'Leave me alone in this misery, Robbie... please...' I begged him in my mind.

"I don't care about Janice."

Yeah right!

I bit my lips to stop myself from asking the questions I wanted to know, but I had a feeling the answers would crush me beyond repair.

"I understand Robbie. She is not really spending time with us. But she wants to look perfect on the wedding day. That is why these evening appointments and shopping happen. Well, you will get her all for youself after... after..."

He was staring at me. Then his eyes started to go lower and lower.

The hunger in his eyes was so burning that I felt it creeping all over my body.

"Robert!"

"Call me Robbie, you look amazing. You are amazing. You make me feel the things I never felt before, Pretty."

I was not going to appreciate this anymore.

"Get out of my room, Robert. You are drunk."

"CALL ME ROBBIE." I gasped and jumped a mile at his shout. He looked so angry and frustrated.

When he turned back, I almost sighed in relief.

He went to lock the door.

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