" Once the warm jacket was on me, he moved to my side, slipping an arm possessively around my lower back, an action that certainly did not slip past Rich.

"Seriously?" he asked, looking a mix of hurt and almost... disgusted? "This is a thing..." he half-asked, half-declared, waving a hand at us.

"It's a thing," Brant said with a nod. "You fucked up and lost a good thing. I saw that good thing and scooped it up. And I'm not fucking it up. And you're not getting between. So I think that is all that needs to be said here."

Rich's head jerked back like Brant had struck him, but his jaw got tight and his chin lifted. "Knew you were a lot of things, Maddy," he said and I knew whatever was going to follow was out of hurt- hurt heart, hurt pride, but I honestly didn't think he had it in him to be so nasty. "But I didn't think you were a slut."

With that, he walked away, leaving me literally with my mouth hanging open.

"Five years with you and 'slut' is the best he could come up with?" Brant asked, shaking his head. Then his gaze moved to me, his fingers snagged my chin and tilted it up so he could catch my eyes. "You're not a slut, Maddy," he said, voice firm, brooking no room for argument. "I mean, I'm all for you getting slutty with me, but that doesn't mean you're a slut. He's just being a dick because you bruised his ego."

I knew that.

And I knew I wasn't a slut. Far from.

It was just startling hearing that accusation come from the lips of someone you thought you knew.

I gave Brant a slow and saucy smile, eyes going a little wicked. "Well, now that the drama is out of the way...I have an idea of how we can get good and slutty together later."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, smirking.

"Yeah, it involves pineapples."

And later, after we finished work, it did. "

― Jessica Gadziala , Peace, Love, & Macarons