#TripleX Read Online Free PDF

Matt and I convinced our study hall monitor to let us go to the library every day instead of fearing for our lives with the dregs of humanity.
    Studying in the library, quickly turned into studying in my bedroom after school, which quickly turned into studying my vagina in my bed. We worked fast and moved fast, but Hell, it paid off. I married him during our junior year of college after a six-month breakup where I drowned every one of my woes in Vodka and guys with Greek letters across their chests.
    I remembered not being able to breathe or really function when we first broke up back then. It was the most devastating thing I’d ever endured—still to this day. I lost weight. My hair was falling out in chunks, and my grades started slipping. Then, one night, my friends convinced me to go out and drink my woes away. Surprisingly, it worked. The taste of a lemon drop on my tongue mingled with a guy named Tom in my pants really made a girl forget her ex-boyfriend. I partied the pity away. I drank the doldrums gone. And, I never thought about going back to Matt.
    Until…
    Jessie Andrews.
    Once I saw him on campus two or three times with his tongue down her throat, I saw red—a deep raging, full of homicidal thoughts red. I wanted her dead. I wanted him back in a major, envy-filled way. Rocking shorter skirts and plunging necklines and grinding with guy after guy on the dance floor in front of Matt and Jessie achieved my goal. Matt came running back and no sooner were we back together, we were engaged and ready to start our life together.
    Against our parents’ wishes and cries of “you’re too young,” we took off to Vegas and got married. What were too young for? Sex? Bills? Mutual bank accounts and our very own vacuum cleaner? No, those weren’t the things that we were too young for.
    We were too young to be sure of the exact path we wanted to be on for the rest of our lives. Too young to say, “Yeah, this is the man that I want to hear snore and grunt every night for the next 50 years.” Too young to know that never again would I be able to feel the freedom and joy of just being me—not caring what anyone else thought or how it impacted him. Too young to know that every decision I made from that moment on would need to be agreed upon by another human being “until death do us part.” Too young to know that “until death do us part” was a long damn time.
    When Matt left three weeks earlier for Michigan, all I felt was relief. That was how I knew we’d made the right choice. We didn’t work anymore. We weren’t those two young and crazy kids any longer. We were adults who’d drifted and distanced themselves from each other, creating a rift too big to repair. And, it didn’t really bother me. I was completely complacent with the whole decision.
    Matt was in Michigan. My boys were going to spend the entire summer with him. I was going to be alone, really alone, for the first time in almost nineteen years. I was going to have nearly three months all to myself. Me. My time. Why was I not going to do exactly what I wanted—what I thought? But what did I think? I’ll tell you what I thought. I had one thought and one thought only.
    Fuck forty!
     

     
    “What’re you doing?” Christine said, just as I answered the phone.
    “I just got home. I spent the day plotting my new book with Pete,” I explained, pulling out pork chops to defrost for dinner. God forbid, we have spaghetti tonight too.
    “Okay, I know I’ve said this before, but I just think it’s bizarre that you plot your erotic stories and scenes with your neighbor-guy down the street,” Christine claimed, for the five-hundredth time since I met her.
    “His name is Pete, not ‘neighbor-guy.’ And I told you before that he has great ideas—really great ideas. He’s got a kinky mind,” I said, trying to make her understand.
    “I think you want him,” she said, like she always did.
    “We are just friends,” I replied.
    “You told me you