Isn't It Bromantic (Bromance Book Club #4) - Lyssa Kay Adams Page 0,69
process to overcome a lifetime of toxic masculinity and to—” His voice cut off as Cheese Man picked up Tracy’s hand and kissed it. “I will break his balls.”
Vlad pointed with his empty glass. “Ha, see? It is not so easy to ignore when it is your woman he is hitting on.”
The guys all lifted a collective eyebrow. Vlad realized his mistake. “Not that, I mean . . . Elena is not my woman. We are getting a—a . . . you know.”
Mack tilted his head. “Are you trying to say divorce?”
“You know what I’m trying to say!”
“I do. What I find interesting is that you can’t bring yourself to say it.”
“Shut up.”
Mack faced him head-on, blocking his view of the women. “Why won’t you just admit it, man?”
Vlad gripped his empty glass tighter. “I have nothing to admit.”
Noah snorted. “How about the fact that you don’t want a divorce?”
Vlad hissed at him to keep his voice down. But a quick peek at the dining room told him no one had heard. The women were still too transfixed by how Cheese Man turned his crank.
Mack laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, man. You don’t have to keep up this lie. Not with us.”
“I’ve made my peace with the status of my marriage,” he finally said.
“The expression on your face right now is not one of peace, man.”
“Then consider it one of acceptance.”
“It’s one of defeat, nut sack.” Mack snorted.
“You heard her. She had a job interview in Moscow. She’s leaving.”
“Don’t you want to fight for her?” Noah asked.
“I’m done fighting for her.”
Another squeal went up from the dining room. Cheese Man was now waxing poetic about the aphrodisiac qualities of Parmesan.
“I hate him so much,” Vlad seethed.
“Kick him out. It’s your party.”
Cheese Man trailed his fingers up Elena’s arm before feeding her a slice of Parm.
Then the room became painted in a red filter as Cheese Men lowered his head.
And kissed his fucking wife.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
And just like that, the party was over.
One minute, Elena was wincing in anticipation of a kiss on the cheek. The next, Vlad was standing on both his legs and bellowing for everyone to get the fuck out.
The guys all gathered their wives with we’ll talk about it later urgency and hurried them outside, followed quickly by the Loners, who were already whispering like gossiping hens.
Face flaming, Elena walked Cheese Man to the door. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what got into him. He’s not usually like this.”
Cheese Man lifted her knuckles to his lips. “I have a pretty good idea.”
“No, you don’t. We’re getting a divorce.”
Cheese Man studied her with a small smirk. “Are you sure about that?”
Elena shut the door, clenched her fists, and stormed back to the living room. She found Vlad huffing and puffing, his hand wrapped around a half-empty glass of something that was probably bad for his stomach.
“I. Cannot. Believe you.” Elena grabbed the remote from where it had landed on the floor when Vlad leaped to his feet. She zapped off the game. “What the hell were you thinking, jumping up like that? You could have hurt yourself again. And do you have any idea how humiliating that was?”
“I have some idea, yes.” He took a long drink and hissed at the burn. He downed the rest of the liquor and dropped the empty glass to the floor.
“You need to stop drinking. That can’t be good for your stomach.”
Vlad pointed. “Stop taking care of me. And you want to know what is humiliating? Watching another man kiss my wife right in front of me.”
Indignation burned like a bite into a scalding pelmeni hot from the oil. “You have no right to be jealous, Vlad.”
His voice dropped an octave. “He kissed you.”
“He kissed my cheek.”
“Only because you turned your face at the last minute. If you hadn’t, he would have shoved his tongue down your throat.”
“Which is a lot more than you ever did to me!”
“Maybe because you’ve never wanted me to!”
Elena advanced on him in angry steps, drew back her fist, and socked him in the chest. He hopped back on one foot, blinking in surprise. Since he was obviously clueless, she did it again. Her fist landed in the valley between his pecs with a dull thud.
“Elena—”
“Of course I want you to kiss me. I’ve always wanted you to kiss me. I wanted you to kiss me when you proposed. I wanted you to kiss me on our wedding day. I wanted you to kiss