I wasn’t usually one to look at someone else’s phone, but without thinking, I snatched it from the table and checked the message. Only crazy women checked their man’s phone, so I must have been a complete psycho since I was checking Matthew’s phone and he wasn’t even my man.
My eyes scanned over a message from the night before, and my heart dropped.
Corrine: Up for a late-night fuck?
There were text messages before that one. Dirty ones about blow jobs and naked pictures of her perfect breasts and tiny waist.
I felt sick just thinking about him with another woman, but that was my own fault. Obviously, Matthew was gorgeous. Obviously, women wanted him. He was a man. What had he said before when I’d asked him if it was annoying to be flirted with all the time?
“What man in his right mind would be annoyed by that?”
It was more than obvious he enjoyed the attention of women. Why not enjoy their bodies, as well?
Bodies nothing like mine.
Thin.
Trim.
Toned.
Skinny.
Meanwhile, my thigh gap was nonexistent, and I was about eighty pounds overweight.
There were no defined muscles in my body, and the only thing slim and trim on me was my ankles and wrists, and that was only when I wasn’t bloated.
I realized something else.
The text was from the night before. The same night where he had left me untouched in my bed. Obviously, he had gone to her and got what he wanted. The same thing he didn’t want from me. He’d called me handsy and said I’d left him with blue balls. Surely, I had tried to sleep with him. Yet he had dropped me off at my house and gone to another woman.
The pain lanced through me, making me suck in a strangled breath. I dropped his phone to the table, stood from my seat, grabbed my purse, and walked out of the restaurant.
It was embarrassing, to say the least, being wracked with jealousy. Honestly, I knew I had no right since he wasn’t my property, but it hurt so bad I could feel the tears rushing to my eyes. And the last thing I wanted was for him to see me crying.
I was just going out the door when I heard him call my name. I didn’t wait. Instead, I pretended not to hear him and went through the door.
The weather was chilly, and I didn’t have a way home. It wasn’t like taxi cabs were everywhere in Charleston, but after seeing his phone and walking out, I couldn’t stick around.
So I walked quickly, hoping I could turn the corner and be out of sight before he came after me. I wasn’t that lucky. Just as I was turning the corner, he was calling my name behind me.
I heard the tap of his shoes against the cobblestones and then he grabbed my arm.
“Hey,” he said, out of breath. “I swear nothing happened.”
Great.
He knew why I was upset.
More than likely, he’d gone back to the table to pay and saw his phone opened to her message sitting on the table. Why hadn’t I gone back to the home screen?
“Did you hear me?” he asked, spinning me around to face him.
I didn’t realize my tears had escaped until he reached up and ran his thumb across my cheek to wipe one away.
“I didn’t go through your phone. You had a text and …” I stopped, suddenly feeling crazy and stupid.
I didn’t even know what we were doing anymore, but I was positive I had no right to look at his phone, much less be upset by the messages on it.
“Her pictures. She had an amazing body. Is that the kind of women you like? Because if so, that’s not me.” I motioned at my body.
“No,” he said, his voice sounded depraved. “I mean, you’re nothing like Corrine. You’re what I want.”
Lies.
“If I’m what you want, then why did you leave my bed for hers?”
Again, the tears clogged my throat. I hated being emotional in front of people. Showing feelings was a great way to get them hurt.
“Just forget it,” I said, turning away.
“No.” He grabbed my arm. “I promise you, Shannon. I went home and went to bed. I saw her text last night, but I ignored it. I should have deleted her messages, but I wasn’t thinking. I swear, I’m not messing with her anymore. She was just a fling. You’re …”
He stopped.
The chilly breeze was making me shiver, so he reached out and ran his palms over my arms.
“I’m what?”
Emotional?
Crazy?
Completely freaking psychotic?
That was certainly how I felt.
“You’re definitely not a fling, and I love your body. At least what I’ve seen of it. Corrine was just there. Someone who was unattached like me, but it’s different with you. I never took her to dinner or kissed her on a swing. She’s never slept at my place. We’ve never even eaten a meal together. She’s got nothing on you. Please believe me.”
His eyes were wild as he tried to convince me, and something about the desperation in his voice was gradually melting my resolve. Not to mention, I had no right to look at his phone. He wasn’t mine. I didn’t own him.
I nodded.
“You believe me?” he asked.
Again, I nodded. “I’m sorry,” I apologized.
His eyes got wide and confusion swept across his brow. “You’re sorry?”
“Yes. I had no business touching your phone. Who you’re with and not with is none of my business. Honestly, now that the moment is over, I’m totally embarrassed that I got a bit jealous.”
His face cleared, and a tiny smile tugged at his lips before he let go and laughed.
“What’s funny?” I asked.
“If you’re apologizing for being jealous, then I suppose I should apologize, too.”
It was my turn to be confused. “I’m not following.”
“The night you slept on my couch and you were talking in your sleep, you mentioned another guy. I hated it so much that you were dreaming about someone else. It made me … well, jealous.”
My mouth popped open. “I wasn’t dreaming of anyone. More like having a nightmare. Trust me. Another man in my life will never be a problem.”
He sighed, running his hands through his dark hair and chuckled. “I guess we’re both a bit crazy then, huh?”
I nodded, feeling a smile pull at my mouth. “Yeah, I guess so. The best ones usually are, though, right?”
He laughed. “That’s true. Come on.” He slid his fingers between mine, and I let him.
“What are we doing now?” I asked.
“Do you want to go back to my place?” He lifted my hand to his mouth and softly kissed my knuckles.
I nodded, biting my lip to keep from grinning. “I do, but first, more wine.”
His place was becoming comfortable. More so than my own apartment, which was bizarre.
I kicked off my flats as soon as we entered his place and the lights clicked on.
“I’m stuffed,” I said, hopping onto one of the kitchen stools while he went for a bottle of water.
“Me too. Thirsty?” he asked, holding up a bottle of water.
“I’m good, thanks.”
“So,” he said, coming over to where I was sitting. Leaning against the counter at my side, he took a drink from his water. “What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. What do you want to do?” I asked.