“At least he’s alone,” Jason mutters, pacing in the small living space and pulling on the back of his neck. He’s stressed out, and he never gets this way. “You need to sit down.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m about to give you a goddamn lecture about your behavior. Do you have any idea the shitstorm you’ve caused overnight?”
What the fuck is he talking about?
I wince, rubbing my temples as I take a seat on the couch. “I just woke up. I have no idea about whatever bullshit you’re talking about.”
“That figures,” he mumbles, continuing to pace. “Did you go to bed alone?”
I glare at him. Fucking pissed he would dare ask a question like that. “Are you fucking kidding me? Of course I did. My girlfriend is in Chicago.”
Without a word, he takes out his phone and furiously sends a message.
“Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?” I ask, my tone laced with frustration and a volume almost reaching the status of yelling.
He stops pacing, stands in front of me, and shakes his head. “There are pictures of you on the internet.”
No shit, Sherlock. There are always pictures of me on the internet. Every single fucking day. More pop up after every concert. Why is he wasting my time telling me something I already know?
“With another woman,” he blurts out, clenching his jaw so tight he might crack a tooth. “Pictures of you with your arm around her. There’s a fucking video of her sitting on yourgoddamn lap, Jake. Pretty sure it was taken outside your bus at God-only-knows what time this morning. Now do you see why I’m asking whether you had someone else in your bed last night?”
Time stops.
Last night comes back to me in bits and pieces. The numerous beers I drank. The shots everyone encouraged me to have. The blonde who wouldn’t leave me alone all night.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I drop my head into my hands, urging myself not to throw up as the rising nausea is desperate for a place to go. Nothing happened. I was drunk, but I know I didn’t do anything with her. I would never do that to Kate.
Oh my God…
Kate.
I jump up, running back to the bedroom to grab my phone, immediately overwhelmed by the hundreds of missed calls and texts in my notifications. I don’t care about any of them except for the ones from Kate. I scroll through countless messages I didn’t respond to. The missed calls. She must have reached out to me at least a dozen times yesterday and a few times this morning.
They all abruptly stopped a couple of hours ago.
That’s when I see the texts from Chelsi. I swallow hard before I tap on her name.
Chelsi
You better have a goddamn good reason why there are pictures of you with another woman all over the fucking internet.
Why haven’t you answered any of her calls or texts? I swear to God if you ghost her again, I’ll make it my life’s mission to destroy you.
And if you care, your girlfriend has been sobbing in my arms for hours since she saw the pictures and video. Completely devastated while trying to convince herself that there has to be another explanation because you’d never cheat on her. For both of your sakes, I hope she’s right.
Unimaginable pain forms in my chest, constricting my lungs and making it feel like I can’t breathe. My body trembles as I force myself to walk into the living area, where Jason has commandeered the kitchen table and has someone on speakerphone.
“He’s back, Anna,” Jason says sternly, irritated at me and probably Anna too, given their never-ending disdain for one another. “Do you want to get him up-to-speed on how we should mitigate this nightmare?”
“Give me a second,” I respond, placing a call to Kate that goes immediately to voicemail. I send a few texts in a row, asking her to call me, with no response. I take a seat across from Jason and hang my head in my hands.
