Please read part 1 of the story before you continue.
Ann had been talking for the past ten minutes, her voice bright and cheerful, but Rich hadn't listened to a word. His mind was elsewhere, stuck in the fog of that weekend at the lake house. The image of John's hands on her, the way she'd moaned, the way he stood there watching, the anger, the confusion about his arousal, but yet undeniably thrilling, even after three weeks that night was fresh in his head.
"Rich?" Ann's voice cut through his thoughts, like a knife. He blinked, looking up at her. She was tilting her head, her brow furrowed. "Did you hear me? Natalie and John invited us over for dinner this weekend. I told her we'd go."
His stomach dropped. The fork slipped from his fingers, clattering against the plate. "I don't know, babe," he said, his voice tight. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."
She frowned, her lips pursing in that way they did when she was confused. "Why not? I love Natalie. I know you're not crazy about John believe me he's not my favorite either but he's not that bad. Come on, please? It'll be fun."
He forced a nod, his throat dry. "Okay. Fine. We can go."
The days before going to their house, Rich found himself replaying the scene in his mind, the way John's eyes had lingered on Ann, the way she'd arched her back when she came, the way he had done nothing but watch. By the time Saturday rolled around, he was a bundle of nerves, his stomach churning as they pulled into John's driveway.
Their house was beautiful set on two acres, surrounded by towering oak trees. They met them at the door exchanging hugs and handshakes, John slapped Rich on the back saying "come on the drinks are cold and the meats about to get hot!" Natalie slapped his shoulder telling him to stop. They sat outside drinking talking and laughing. John grilled the steaks, the smell of charred meat filling the air, they sat down to eat Rich barely touched his food, he couldn't look at John directly, couldn't meet his eyes. Every glance felt like an accusation.
As the evening wound down, Rich found himself outside, sitting by the outdoor fireplace. The flames danced, casting long shadows across the yard, and he stared into the fire, his jaw clenched. The door opened, and he heard the sound of Ann and Natalie's voices as they cleaned up inside. A moment later, John joined him, sitting down in the chair opposite.
They made small talk the weather, work, mindless drivel but Rich could feel the tension in his chest. Finally, John cleared his throat, leaning forward. "Hey, Rich," he said, his voice cautious. "I just..I wanted to apologize for that weekend at the lake house. I had too much to drink, and those comments I made about Ann... they were inappropriate. I'm sorry."
Rich's grip tightened around his glass. He stared into the fire, his voice low and cold. "What exactly are you apologizing for?"
John hesitated, his chair creaking as he shifted uncomfortably. "Well, it's just... I shouldn't have said those things. I was out of line."
Rich's jaw tightened. Slowly, he turned to look at John, his eyes hard. "I know what you did that night."
