“So, you just decided to have sex with everybody?”
He sighed, looking at me intently, trying to find the right words. The air left the room as he lost the heated tone and brought his voice down to a calculated calm. “Maybe that was wrong of me, and I apologize for it. I can only imagine what you must think of me right now. But I was only with them because I couldn’t be with you. I’ve always loved you, Lay. It’s always been you.”
Ouch. My heart cracked at that admission, because I knew it was the truth. He’d always been it for me, too. He’d always been the love of my life.
And, yeah, okay, to be honest, it’s not as though I had joined a nunnery while we were separated. My numbers weren’t anywhere near his, but could I really blame him for living his life, doing whatever he did, before we were together? It’s not like either one of us could pull a Superman and spin the world back in time to change things.
“Patience” was playing on the stereo, and it was enough to make me want to cry. I looked over at Trip, who’d sat down in the wing chair, elbows on his knees. His hands clamped into two white-knuckled fists and his head dropped to his chest, staring at his feet as he said, “Please don’t leave me over this. Please don’t break me again.”
He thought I was going to leave him over it? I just wanted to be a regular girl for a minute and bitch about it. I wasn’t planning on leaving him.
“Oh God, Trip… no. I’m not…” I sank down to the floor at his feet, put a hand to his knee. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere.” He looked positively wrecked, which was never my intention. I guess I could have explained things better. “I’m sorry, too. It’s just strange for me. We can’t seem to go anywhere without running into one of your ex-girlfriends. All these California blondes with their big fake tits. Can you even imagine what that would be like for you if every time you turned your head, some guy I slept with was standing there? Some guy who still wants to sleep with me. Gives you dirty looks like you don’t measure up. How would that feel for you?”
He raised broken eyes to mine. “Babe. Think about it. Yeah, they’re all blondes. I couldn’t bear to be with a brunette ever again after you.”
What? I thought on his words for a moment and holy crap, realized it was the truth. Damn that man and his selective adorableness.
I tried to contain my smile at his revelation as I teased, “Maybe I should dye my hair.”
He grabbed a handful at the back of my head and pulled, tipping my face up to his. “Don’t even think about it.”
The old Trip was back as his mouth crashed down on mine and kissed me roughly, his teeth clenched, the sound of his growl vibrating against my lips. He wasn’t going to distract me this time. We still needed to sort some stuff out. But his admission and his kiss had at least served to change the tone of our confrontation.
My voice was almost playful as I said, “Okay, okay. But Jenna? C’mon, Trip. You have to understand why I’m so upset. Not only is she your ex-fiancée, but she’s super-skinny, with humongous boobs, and she…” I trailed off.
“What?” Trip asked, finally cracking a smile. “And she what?”
“She went to Yale! YALE, Trip!”
“Why do I get the impression that you’re more jealous of that than of her tits?”
“I have tits. What I don’t have is a diploma from YALE.”
“Neither does she.”
Wait. What?
He could see the confusion on my face, and clarified his statement. “She didn’t go to Yale. That was just part of her packaging.”
“Packaging? I thought they only did that in like the fifties.”
“You’d be surprised. I could give you a list of people in arranged marriages that would make your head spin.”
“Arranged?”
“For a few guys who are a little light in the loafers. Ruins their box office as romantic leading men if people can’t buy them as straight.”
I let that sink in. Hollywood was the weirdest place, I swear. “So, no Yale?”
He was laughing as he put his arms around me, hauled me up to sit on his lap. “No. Actually, she wasn’t too bright. I couldn’t understand how someone who went to Yale could constantly use the word ‘supposably’. Made me cringe every time.”
“How did she even get away with saying she went there? Someone could easily find out the truth. I mean, there are records for that sort of thing.”
“Only if someone cares enough to dig for them.”
It seemed Jenna escaped a bit of the Hollywood grapevine simply because she wasn’t famous enough. Huh. Maybe I could slip by it as well.
I snuggled in against his chest, played with the edge of his T-shirt at his neck. “I can’t believe you were engaged to her.”
“In my defense, she didn’t start out as such a vapid tart. I was impressed with the Yale thing, too. And believe it or not, in the beginning, she was nice.”
That made me just a smidge jealous. But she was his ex for a reason, right?