“Nothing,” I could feel tears welling in my eyes. “I only had two friends here, two best friends... One was my first love and one was my BFF since like first grade…We were all considered “the three weirdos” in middle and high school so we stuck together through everything…The day I left for New York, to go to this modeling competition, I caught both of them making out…I’m pretty sure if I hadn’t interrupted they would’ve had sex right then and there. Actually, they’d been hooking up behind my back for four months so they probably did have sex before then…”
“I’m sorry,” he rubbed my back. “I wouldn’t have brought that up if I knew.”
“I saw them the day I poured that coffee on you…She’s pregnant by him now and I guess I shouldn’t be upset. I left and didn’t talk to either of them again, but it still hurts, you know? They were the closest people in my life next to my mom…Maybe that’s why I’m so screwed up when it comes to relationships.”
“You’re not screwed up, Selena.”
I lay back into his arms and sighed. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Outside of my mother, I’d never told anyone else that story and it still drained me to think about it.
The thunder and rain were the only noises between us for a while—save for the soft kisses he gave me every few minutes.
I sat up and faced him. “Did your phone get soaked?”
“Probably. Why?”
“I wanted to know what time it was.”
He stood up and grabbed his watch from the dresser. He sat back down and waited for me to take my place in his arms. “It’s twelve thirty three.”
“Thanks. You know, I always thought turning twenty five would feel a lot different…Every birthday feels the same to me.”
“I thought your birthday was Tuesday…You gave people a fake birthday?”
“Don’t judge me,” I laughed. “I gave them the right year, just the wrong date. I knew no one from Fayetteville would go to the press about anything out of respect for my mom. I wasn’t joking when I said I completely started a new identity…”
“So, today is your birthday?”
I nodded.
He sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier, Selena? I could’ve taken you out somewhere. We could’ve gone to—”
“I didn’t want you to feel like you needed to do anything for me…I haven’t really celebrated the real day over the past few years anyway. I usually act like it’s any other day.”
“You still should have told me,” he sighed again. “Well, I was going to ask you about this on Tuesday, but I guess now would be more appropriate.”
He stood up and walked over to where his wet pants were draped over a chair. He pulled out his wallet and unfolded a few sheets of paper.
“I was in Wal-Mart a couple days ago and came across your face on a magazine…”
“Are you seriously about to ask me about a tabloid story?”
He laughed and sat in front of me. “Come on now, don’t you know me better than that? This was a cover story and interview with Cosmopolitan magazine.”
I froze. I’d forgotten all about my interview with Cosmo. I’d done it months ago—way before my wedding to Matt Sterling. They’d sent me an advanced copy once it was finished and were supposed to release it at the beginning of the fall, but my scandal forced them to push it back.
“It’s um…” he playfully waved the sheets of paper. “It’s a pretty interesting magazine—even though it seems to be all about…Well, I’m sure you know what it’s all about. I bought a few copies, but I ripped out the only part that interests me.”
I was glad the lights in the tree-house were dim; I was sure my face was the color of a tomato.
He cleared his throat and read the paper. “Selena Ross Tells Us How She Likes It in Bed…Pretty straightforward title, don’t you think? Miss Ross sat down with us over coffee at the new high rise Starbucks,” he emphasized that word and rolled his eyes, “and let us know how a guy can keep her satisfied between the sheets.”
Oh my god…
“Selena believes that the key to having amazing sex is communication,” he began to mock my voice. “I personally am a fan of talking during sex, she says—not full blown conversations or anything, but sweet sentences here or there. When we asked what her favorite position was, she giggled, ‘This is going to sound lame, but I’m a conventional girl. I like missionary. I like the guy to be in control—it’s the one area of my life where I like to completely let go and let someone else be in charge.’ As we were—”
“Stop reading it!” I reached for that stupid paper so I could tear it pieces, but he held it up high.