Chapter 1

Eight months. That’s how long he’s been living at that damn hotel

Thoughts of my estranged relationship with Brandon Perez swirled in my head constantly. I rubbed my face and tried to refocus on the paperwork before me.

As daylight began to brighten the horizon, I worked at my desk in the office trailer at ConcreteXpress—the company I owned. “It wasn’t as if Idid anything wrong,” I had told myself, often. He’d been the one to cheat—not me. Brandon broke us.

As the weeks away from my boyfriend turned into months of soul-searching, it finally dawned on me what a selfish bastard I’d been over the years. How could I explain the reason why, though? Would he understand the fear that had lived within me for so long and begged that I not become like the man who’d raised me?

It had happened anyway, without noticing the damage I’d been causing until it was too late. I’d turned into my grandfather, and just like he’d driven me away, I’d done the same thing to my lover.

I remembered the epic shouting match between me and Brandon at the Residence Inn like it was yesterday. It still haunted me to this day.

* * * *

“How could you do this to me?” I shouted. “What could possibly have been going through your mind to think that screwing a twenty-three year old was a smart thing to do? Don’t you have a fucking brain?”

“Because you’re a condescending, self-righteous son of a bitch, and I can’t take it anymore! You ask too fucking much.” I stared at Brandon, stunned, because he never yelled, ever

“You want me to be this perfect person,” he continued, “to do things the way that youthink they should be done, simply because it works for you. Well, it doesn’t!”

“Are you saying this is myfault?” I asked, incredulous.

“Maybe part of it is your fault, but it’s mine, too, for letting you dictate how everything goes in our relationship. You have these high expectations of me, and sometimes, I just want to do things my way, right or wrong. I’m ashamed of cheating on you, but that doesn’t change how I feel about our one-sided relationship.”

Brandon sat on the bed and just breathed for a minute. When he glanced up at me, I was shocked to see tears in his eyes.

“I love you, Adrian, to my last breath, but you’re too much work. To be with you, it has to be about you, and I don’t know who Iam anymore. I’m lost, okay? I’ve been trying to please you for so long, I’ve forgotten how to be me. The guy at work? Right place at the right time. He just wanted to have some fun, and I wanted to remember what that was like. Sex—hell, life—being fun. He saw me as I was, flaws and all, and didn’t judge me, or expect anything more than I had to give. That’s why I slept with him, to remember how it could be. He built me up and didn’t tear me down.”

I sat on the other bed facing Brandon and listened to his sobs. They damn near broke my heart

* * * *

Trev Harding—my best driver in the fleet, and a good friend—had made similar comments to me when I’d told him what Brandon had done. He’d said that it would be hard to live with someone asunbendingas I was, that I asked too much from a guy, and I really needed to think about what I wanted from Brandon—a partner in life, someone I treated as an equal and with respect, or a “yes” man. His remarks hadn’t made me feel any better.

Before I got too lost in my thoughts, Trev—speak of the devil—entered the trailer and brought cool February air in with him.

“Morning, old man,” he greeted me, catching the Freightliner keys I threw at him. “How’s it hanging?”

“To the left, as usual,” I retorted, keeping it light. After gathering the day’s delivery orders for his route, I handed them over. “You stay over at Grant’s last night?” Grant Hess was Trev’s boyfriend.

“Naw, but I will this weekend.” The look of contentment on Trev’s face still amazed me. This was a man whose dick had never been happier than reaming a different hole every night. And then, around the time when Brandon and I had our falling out, Trev had finally settled down with the man that made monogamy worthwhile for him.

Since then, he’d been like a pig in slop. It was disgusting, since the shoe was now on the other foot, after I’d spent years getting on his ass for his slutty behavior.

“Go on. I’ve got work to do, and so do you. And don’t text me dumb shit like you always do.” Trev had the annoying habit of sending me asinine missives throughout the day, just because he could.