His After The Heartbreak (BL)-Chapter 162: You Want to Know? Fine, I’ll Tell You.

"And yeah, I didn't bother to freshen up," I continued. "Because your annoying maid was banging on my damn door, saying it was urgent. Said you wanted to see me. Said it was important."

I scoffed and shook my head. "Turns out it wasn't important. Just you being nosy."

I didn't even stop there. The anger in me pushed every filter aside.

"And as for the moaning," I said, voice rising, "what the hell did you expect? Silence? You think someone getting their soul sucked out is going to stay quiet?"

I stepped closer, letting the words hit him harder.

"She gave me head," I said. "The best fucking head I've ever had in my life. Her tongue worked me like she was born for it. Her mouth touched every inch of me like she owned it."

I laughed bitterly. "She took my big dick like a pro. No complaints. No gagging. Just deep, slow, perfect strokes. She swallowed my cum, and then she kissed me like she wanted me to taste myself."

I crossed my arms and stared him down.

"Since you wanted details, should I sit down and tell you how she looked up at me with those pretty eyes while she did it? Should I describe how her lips curved when I moaned her name?"

He flinched. Finally. Some emotion on his face.

"Ew—Logan! God, no!" he barked, shaking his head like he could erase the images I just planted in his brain. "Nobody wants to hear that!"

He looked horrified.

I almost laughed.

"You don't realize how disgusting you sound right now, do you?" he added, his voice sharp, like he was trying to discipline me. "The only thing coming out of your mouth is filth. Pure filth!"

"Logan," he said, running a hand over his face, "nobody wants that. Nobody is interested in your sex life. You should keep it to yourself."

I stared at him in silence for a second.

And then... I smirked.

"So now you want to give me advice on how to handle my sex life?" I said coldly. "You? The same man who practically forced me to explain what happened in that room?"

I tilted my head, watching the way his face tightened.

"I thought you were dying to know. I thought you couldn't sleep without knowing who I was with and what I was doing. So what changed now, huh? Why so disgusted all of a sudden?"

I walked past him slowly,

"Didn't you want to know every detail?" I asked. "Every moan, every sound, every taste?"

"I... I don't want to hear any more," he snapped, eyes refusing to meet mine.

"Too bad," I said, my voice low, deadly. "I insist."

I stepped close enough that he could see just how serious I was.

"You asked for this. You couldn't mind your business. So now you have to know everything. Every damn detail. Every inch of what happened in that room."

"You know what, Logan? Now I want to know."

My head turned so fast, I almost gave myself whiplash.

I stared at him, eyebrows pulled together like he just told me the sun was made of cheese.

Did I hear that right?

Just a few seconds ago, this man was yelling, disgusted, talking about how nasty it was to hear about my sex life—now suddenly, he wants to know every damn thing?

Was he being serious? Or was he just playing mind games with me again?

"You sure this man is okay?" I muttered to myself, narrowing my eyes at him.

No, seriously.

Somebody should check his blood pressure or book him a room in a psychiatric hospital before the crazy gets worse.

"You literally just said you didn't want to know," I said, confused as hell.

"So why the sudden change of heart, huh? What gripped your attention? What part made you decide this is worth listening to now?"

I raised one brow at him, watching his face carefully.

He didn't even blink.

"Actually," he began, sounding too calm for someone who was clearly losing his damn mind. "I didn't change my mind. Not really. I've always thought it was a good idea for a father and son to be open like this. You know—bonding."

I stared at him blankly.

He continued, still smiling like we were on some damn family talk show.

"But when you started describing everything with so much... detail, I second-guessed myself. I thought, 'Maybe I don't want to know.' But after ten seconds of deep reflection—" he said dramatically, placing a hand on his chest, "—I realized this is the best idea ever. So let's start from the top. Who's the lucky girl that gave you that unforgettable head game?"

I blinked. Twice.

So that was it.

I knew it.

This man never changes.

Now I could see it clearly—he didn't believe me.

He still thought I was lying. Still thought I didn't hook up with a girl.

He was still suspecting it was Tyler.

And the worst part?

He wasn't wrong.

Because the only person in that room with me, the only person who had me gasping, moaning, losing my damn mind... was Tyler.

Fuck.

How the hell was I supposed to explain that?

How do you tell your father the "girl" you were getting head from...

"So how about we go say hi to the lucky girl?" he said with a bright smile, like he just suggested we go say hi to grandma.

My entire stomach dropped.

"She should still be in your room, right?" he added, already walking toward the stairs. "Let's go give her a warm welcome!"

My heart was racing now.

No, no, no.

This man wasn't playing anymore. He really wanted to see her.

And by "her," he meant Tyler.

I was screwed.

"I knew it," I muttered under my breath. "He's still doubting me. He still thinks something's fishy."

And he was right.

Everything was fishy.

Everything was Tyler.

Yeah... this wasn't something I could lie out of.

"Let's go, Logan!" my dad suddenly said, jolting me out of my thoughts.

Shit.

He was getting serious.

"Can we... can we go later?" I asked quickly, trying to sound casual. "She might be dressing up. I don't want her to feel shy or uncomfortable."

It was a desperate lie. But it was the best I could come up with.

He stopped and turned back to me with that annoying smirk.

"All you have to do is knock and tell her to put something on," he said.

"I just want to say—"

But he didn't get to finish.

His phone started ringing.

Loud. Shrill. And urgent.

I silently thanked the heavens.

Please let this be the distraction I needed.

He picked it up and frowned. Then tapped the speaker button.

The line crackled with static, but underneath it, I could hear something.

Noise. Panic. Screaming.

And then—

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

Gunshots.

My blood ran cold.

"We were set up—" the voice on the phone said, barely clear through the chaos.

"—We were attacked—"

More static.

Then the voice cracked again, barely holding it together.

"The mother of my son... she's been shot. She's dead."