Page 90 of The Boyfriend Experience

“Like what?”

“And it would be nice,” he continues, like I’m not even talking, “if you’d tell me all that stuff yourself so I don’t have to play the game with you anymore.”

“All what stuff? What exactly did she tell you?”

He’s silent on the other end of the phone. I can see his shadow through the sheer curtains covering his terrace window. He’s pacing back and forth.

“Lawton,” I say, my tone irritable now. “Tell me what the fuck happened tonight.”

“Ya know, I’m tired, Oaklee. It’s been a long day. Hell, it’s been a long weekend. And I have work tomorrow and the meeting with Home TV was pushed up to Wednesday for some reason, so I’m just gonna go to bed and I’ll stop by your place tomorrow after work and we’ll discuss where things go next.”

“‘We’ll discuss where things go next?’ What’s that even mean?”

“I mean this game. I mean this TV show. I just don’t know. You’re wild, Oaklee. You broke into her fucking apartment tonight!”

“So what are you saying? That you believe whatever that lying bitch Hanna told you? That you’re not going to help me? That I’m not going to that meeting with the Home TV people with you?”

One more long sigh from Lawton. And I know what he’s going to say before he says it. “Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know. We’ll talk about it tomorrow night. OK? I gotta go.”

And then he hangs up because I get three quick beeps letting me know the call was dropped.

I just stand there. The air cold now, not just cool. The wind wild now, not soothing. And look at my phone.

She did it again. She’s gonna take him away from me now too. All because I told him to go have dinner with her.

So it’s my fault, isn’t it? I practically gave him to her. Practically pushed them together. Made him dress up like… like the kind of guy he isn’t. The kind of guy I like, which is the kind of guy Hanna likes too.

Isn’t it?

And even though I’m not one of those girls who cries over a man… I want to cry. The tears sting in my eyes. The wind whipping across my face, trying to erase them.

But when I go back inside there is no wind.

So my tears fall freely as I crawl into bed and hide my face in the pillow.

And pretty soon I’m sobbing. Full-on ugly cry. Because no matter what I do, I can’t compete with her.

She’s always one step ahead.

Always there, ready to kick me when I’m down.

I can practically feel her boot connecting with my stomach as I lie in bed feeling like…

Like I just lost something a whole lot more important than a stupid beer recipe.

CHAPTER THIRTY - LAWTON

I hang up on her and I feel bad immediately because I want to believe her. I want to be on her side. I like her, for fuck’s sake. Was… was what? Falling in love with her just yesterday. Which is ridiculous, but that’s what people think when they first meet.

And don’t know each other, I tell myself in my head.

Because we don’t know each other. She doesn’t know anything about me and what I think I know about her might not be true.

But that Hanna… she sure can spin a tale. And if she’s lying she is a sociopath. Because it came across so… so authentic. No one is that good of a liar. No sane person, anyway.

She didn’t come off as insane. Sorry to say.

I hold my phone in my hand and look out the window. Out at Oaklee’s apartment. I see her walking inside. Like she was out there looking at me while we were talking.