Nice Buns (Cheap Thrills 7) - Page 1

Prologue

Evie

To all of the people who’ve been cheated on—how did you find out about it?

Me: I was watching a video that’d gone viral on social media of a kid doing a stupid stunt that went wrong. It had me dreading the day my son called me saying he was in the hospital because he’d jumped up on a metal railing on his skateboard, that’d then slipped, and he’d landed legs akimbo on the bar and had burst his balls.

Sounds innocent, right? Well, in the background of the video was a motel, and just as the kid’s nuts hit the metal and the video zoomed in more, I noticed a familiar red car in the background.

Squinting, I’d tried to read the plate number, but I couldn’t do it until they changed angle. Then, as the guy lay crying on the ground, out came my husband from a door in the background behind him with a woman. Not only that, but he’d kissed her, then looked straight at the camera and grinned.

And this discovery had just happened ten minutes ago.

To begin with, I was numb. But as I watched the video over and over, taking screenshots so I could zoom in on the screen and make sure it was Neil, the numbness gave way to anger like I’d never felt in my life.

See, at the end of the video, it zoomed in on the kid lying in a hospital bed, and just above his head was the date on a dry erase board next to his name.

My son’s birthday.

The birthday his father had missed three days ago.

He’d told us he had a business trip he couldn’t get out of in Atlanta and had apologized profusely for how his ‘job was taking him away from his son on one of the most important days of the year.’

But I recognized that motel. I knew the park the poor kid became a gelding in, too. It was fifteen minutes away from where we lived.

Storming up to the bedroom, I opened the closet and went to Neil’s side. If he was a smart man, he’d have gotten rid of any evidence of his bullshit.

It took me only forty-three seconds to find proof that he was the dumbest, cheating, lying, full of shit, asshole in the world.

He’d left a receipt for the motel in his pocket, and one for his parking was on the floor next to his shoe. There were also condoms in all of his suit pockets—both the jacket and slacks—which was impressive or he just had delusions of grandeur. He’d never been able to go more than once since day one and said any book, movie, or man who claimed it was doable was lying or popping little blue pills.

At least he was using protection, I guess. Not that I’d touched him in years since I’d found him telling a woman he’d never met in real life, only on the internet, that he loved her. I’d only taken him back because I had no experience with divorce and wanted the best for our son, Cody, and thought having both parents in the house until he left for college would do that.

Not once did I think he’d lie to his child’s face and put his dick ahead of his kid’s birthday.

Well, fuck him.

“How long has the affair been going on for?” I asked as soon as he came through the door three hours later.

Cody was upstairs gaming, so he wouldn’t come down any time soon and overhear the conversation. I never wanted my baby to hear anything like this, especially not about his father.

Jumping, Neil looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “Excuse me?”

I’d never once had a spine during our marriage. I’d had enough of being beaten down, though, and now I was taking hold of the reins with both hands.

For years I’d forced myself to smile in public, and the only time I smiled in my house was for my son. No more.

“You heard me. How long?”

Dropping his keys onto the table near the door, he smirked, and it was ugly. “And who would I be having an affair with, Evita?”

Pulling out the receipts from my pocket, I dropped them on the floor, hiding the smile that wanted to break free as he watched them with a frown on his face. Then, pulling out my phone, I sent him the screenshots, one by one, all thirty-three of them, along with a copy of the video.

“I’d take a look at them if I was you. They make for some interesting reading. Maybe the two of you should look for a career change and become porn stars. You’d make a killing.”

Keeping his eyes on me, he pulled his phone out of his pants pocket. Then, cockily, he lowered his eyes, unlocked it, and started to look through it all.

Tags: Mary B. Moore Cheap Thrills Romance
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