I called them both early this morning. I needed to talk to someone. I pinch the bridge of my nose and exhale in exasperation. “I told Hayden who I was yesterday.”
“And?”
“She went fucking batshit crazy!”
They frown. “What do you mean?”
“I mean . . .” I shrug, lost for words. “This girl—and I’m not exaggerating—is the calmest, most stable, and sweetest human I’ve ever met. I’ve never seen her get ruffled over anything, I mean fucking anything. There is just no temper there . . . or so I thought.”
They listen intently.
“I told her who I was just before the car came to collect us.”
“Why did you leave it so late?” Jameson frowns. “I thought the plan was that you were telling her last week.”
“I was going to . . .” My voice trails off. “In hindsight I should’ve.”
“So then what happened?” Tristan asks.
“I told her who I was, and she went silent. Didn’t speak to me all the way home for twelve fucking hours, and then when we got to my apartment, she went off on a tangent, bringing up bullshit.”
“Like what?” Jameson asks.
“Said she didn’t want to sleep in my bedroom because it was a Tinder auditorium and the women’s moans were sunk into the paint on the walls.”
“She does have a point.” Tristan raises his eyebrows as if considering the statement. “Your entire apartment smells like sex,” he teases.
“I like her already.” Jameson chuckles.
“This isn’t funny,” I snap.
“Sorry.” Jameson tries to straighten his face. “Go on. What happened then?”
I exhale heavily. “She started bringing up my past and chucked the tantrum of all tantrums, marched downstairs, and slept in the spare room.”
They both frown as they stare at me. “When she calmed down, what did she say?”
“Nothing.”
“You didn’t try and talk to her?”
“No. Why would I?” I snap. “I did nothing wrong.”
“You lied to her . . . for twelve fucking months,” Tristan scoffs. “What did you expect?”
“Not this, that’s for sure. And I didn’t lie to her; I just left some minor details out.”
I fall silent, not sure what to say next.
“Well . . . I guess you did it,” Jameson says dryly as he sips his coffee. “Mission accomplished.”
“Did what?” I sigh.
“You wanted to find a girl who loved you for you.” He shrugs. “If this doesn’t count as sufficient evidence, I don’t know what will.”
I roll my eyes.
“She feels betrayed,” Tristan says.
“I haven’t looked at another woman,” I scoff. “How the hell could she feel betrayed?”
“She feels like she doesn’t know you.”
“She knows me better than anyone,” I whisper angrily. “Probably better than I know myself.” I roll my eyes. “I did not fall in love to have someone turn on me at the drop of a hat.”
“Christopher”—Jameson pats me on the back—“women are complex creatures. This is the first fight of many. You’re just beginning to feel the tip of the cock before you get bent over and completely fucked up the ass.”