Blue Angel by Logan Belle Page B

right—this was a disaster. How could she have done this? She’d spent all this time worrying about his losing interest in her, his neglecting her, about their not having the same connection any-more—and then she’d gone off and hooked up with someone else. But did it really count if it was a woman? She wasn’t a lesbian. It wasn’t as if there was a chance she would have a relationship with Bette, leave Alec for her. That was the basic problem with infidelity—the risk that one person would leave for the new partner. Bette was not a threat to her intimacy with Alec—it wasn’t the same as if she’d slept with another man, someone she could fall in love with and have a side relationship with. What had happened with Bette was nothing. And it wasn’t the same as his hooking up with another woman, even with her in the room. Alec had relationships with women; she, Mallory, had not—had never, would never. Plus, she wasn’t the one asking to do things to spice up their sex life; she was the one focused on him, and on them. So why should he be mad that she’d done something a little crazy? Wasn’t that what he wanted from her? Be adventurous—go to the Slit. Be open-minded—let me grope Bette under the table. Be more interesting—let me fuck you in a public bathroom. But the second she’d acted on the adventurousness he’d asked her to tap into, he was freaking.
    She followed him into the bedroom.
    “You’re the hypocrite!” she said. “You ask me to do things that are way out of my comfort zone—you take me to see women take off their clothes on my birthday, an experience you have
no
idea if I’ll even like; you tell me to dance for you, as if I need to step it up a notch to be worthy of your interest. You kiss another woman in front of me, ask me to be open to having sex with her, fuck me in a bathroom because God forbid we just come back here and do something pedestrian like make love. And then I have the opportunity to push my own boundaries a little, and you can’t handle it!”
    He shook his head. “You don’t get it. All those things were about us, Mallory. What you did last night was about you. But you’re too insecure to see that distinction. Ever since you got to New York, you’ve been threatened by my life here, the life I established here looking forward to the day when you would finish school and join me so we could share it together. I couldn’t wait for you to get here and for us to explore this world together. I’m a journalist, Mallory. A writer. I am always looking for new things, interesting stories, a different way to look at life.”
    “I know . . . and I love that about you.”
    “You love it, but it threatens you, too. So then you run off last night and do something that you know will hurt me. Did you even think about that for a second?”
    “No . . . I mean, I didn’t think you would be upset.”
    He looked at her like she’d slapped him.
    “You . . . didn’t think I’d be upset?”
    She started crying, realizing what a huge mistake she’d made. “No, I didn’t.”
    “Then we don’t know each other the way I thought we did. Maybe you were right. We’re not ‘clicking’ lately. I think we need some time apart.”
    Now she was the one to look stunned.
    “You want to break up? Over this?”
    “What do you define as ‘this’? The fact that you slept with someone else? Or the fact that you thought I wouldn’t care? Or the general lack of connection between us lately?”
    “You were just looking for an excuse to break up with me.”
    “I can’t believe you really think that, but if you do, it explains why you handed me the perfect reason to do it.”
    “Fine. I’ll leave.” Her sobs were, at that point, inhibiting normal speech. She started throwing random items of clothing into a suitcase.
    Alec retreated to the living room. She sat on the bed, hyperventilating, and dialed Julie.
    Poppy was pleased. The Morticia Addams costume was a hit. At least, if you