Page 88 of The Boyfriend Experience

“Like what?” I laugh.

Hanna shrugs. “How should I know? But just wait. Something will happen. She’s with you for a reason and you’ll figure that out sooner than later, because Oaklee Ryan didn’t get what she has by accident. She’s ruthless. She has no conscience. And she’s a very good little actress, Law. A very good liar.”

And then Hanna pushes back her chair, places her napkin on the table, and says, “I’ve got the check, don’t worry about that. It was nice talking to you, Law. I hope you take a good long look at what I’ve told you. And I hope you figure out you’re just a pawn in her game before it’s too late and she ruins everything you’ve built over the years.”

She leaves me sitting there. Just replaying her whole story back in my head.

And reluctantly, I have to admit, some of it makes sense.

No, a lot of it makes sense. Like… all the weird why questions that have been running through my head these past few days suddenly make sense if I subscribe to Hanna’s logic.

Questions like… why would Hanna do all this crazy shit?

But if what she told me is true—and it’s certainly plausible—then all of it fits.

The competing breweries. The recipes. The beer names and even the stupid buffalo head mural on the front of her building.

Is Oaklee that crazy?

I mean… she has pulled some stunts. There’s no denying that. And why would all her beer friends not see what I see? Why would they let Hanna get away with all this? Why, for that matter, would the entire craft brewing community let her win festival after festival? Give her taps where Oaklee once ruled?

If none of what Hanna just told me is true… then… Jesus. She’s insane.

But if it is true… then that makes Oaklee the insane one.

I push back from the table, leave the restaurant, walk back to my car, and drive back to Denver. More confused than ever.

Who do I believe? The girl I thought I was falling in love with over the weekend?

Or the one who just gave me a rational explanation that counters everything Oaklee has been telling me?

I don’t know. And even though before I had dinner with Hanna I was planning on spending the night fucking Oaklee’s brains out and falling asleep in her bed, holding her tight—that’s not what I do.

I go home.

Alone.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE - OAKLEE

I text Law when I get upstairs and then stare at my phone as I watch the little notification to say it was delivered. Which it is. But those little bubbles telling me he’s texting back don’t appear.

I don’t know what to think about that.

Well, that’s not true. I have lots of things to think about that.

One. He’s still with Hanna and he can’t answer me yet.

Two. He’s still with Hanna and doesn’t want to answer me at all.

Three. He’s driving home, so he saw the text but can’t text and drive. Which makes sense because that’s dangerous and I don’t want him crashing his car on the freeway trying to calm my fears that he has, in fact, decided Hanna is way more interesting, and pretty, and successful, and he’d like to fuck her instead of me.

Four. He’s fucking her right now.

God, I’m so stupid.

I go over to my terrace and open the doors. The night air is cool and the wind is strong, but I don’t care. I just stare at his apartment down the alley and watch, hoping that any minute now—

The lights flick on.