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“I told you I would buy you some so we could match.” He smiles as he hands me my cup of tea and he leans in and gives me a kiss on the forehead.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. I don’t know what to think: is he lying to me? Has he stuck to our agreement? Actually, what a joke. I had to force him to agree not to be with anyone else. Who am I fucking kidding? This isn’t a relationship. This is a fuck buddy with benefits. Actually that isn’t even right because at the moment the benefits are a broken heart. I stand up and walk over to my kitchen bench.
“Josh, I need to ask you something and if you have any respect at all for me you will tell me the truth.” He swallows and nods.
“How many women have you slept with since you have been back in Australia?” He shakes his head.
“What a ridiculous question,” he snaps. “None since you.”
“Josh I mean it.” My voice is rising.
“Don’t fucking ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to, Natasha,” he snaps.
Ok, I’m getting outraged. “Josh, stop it. I want to know.”
“Why?”
“Because it matters to me.”
“Why?” His voice is rising and his anger levels are starting to match mine.
“You told me three times with that girl.” He scowls at me for bringing that up.
“How long are you going to throw that in my face?” he screams. Is he fucking kidding? Throw it in his face! I’m going to be throwing punches at his face in a minute.
“What I mean, asshole, is that if you were with her three times, how many times did you actually fuck her on each occasion?”
He narrows his eyes, finally understanding the question. “Fuck off, that’s semantics.”
“No it isn’t, we both know how well you…back up, again and again. So let’s see three times is more likely ten to twelve times in Josh language.”
“Fuck off, you just want to fight and I have heard just about as much of your shit as I am going to take. It was before I was with you and that is the end of it. Stop being a fucking Drama Queen!”
“Drama Queen!” I yell. “How many women, Josh?”
“I told you I’m not fucking going there. Now cut the shit or I’m leaving.”
“Fucking leave then!”
“Why does it matter to you how many women I have slept with?” he yells. “They mean nothing to me anyway, so who fucking cares?”
“Actually I do,” I scream.
He rubs his eyes. “You know what? I know what you are doing. You’re pulling your psychology shit on me, trying to fuck with my head and it’s working. You know I have a coloured past and that I like a bit of kink so don’t act all innocent now. I didn’t see you complaining when you were taking it the other night.”
Oh my god, he did not just say that. I narrow my eyes. “Bit of kink. What in the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I scream.
He steps back, shocked at my disgust. “I didn’t mean… that came out wrong.” He suddenly realises what he just said and is trying to back–pedal real fast. I throw an apple at him out of my fruit bowl and he ducks as it goes over his head.
“Well, sorry, I wasn’t aware that when I was taking it the other night that I was one of the many you were dishing out your bit of kink to. You fucking sleazebag! Get the fuck out of my house!” I scream.
“No,” he yells. “You don’t get to choose how this ends.”
“I just did,” I scream as I storm past him to my bedroom and I slam the door. I hear him coming after me so I quickly flick the lock.
He bangs on the door. “Open this fucking door!” he yells.
“Go back to the club, Josh, and pick up a few of your harem so you can give them a bit of kink,” I scream. “I’m sure they will love to take it!” The door suddenly smashes and I jump back from it. I frown. Ok, maybe I should shut up now. I hear my front door slam… And then, silence. Five minutes later I gingerly open the door and am relieved to find he has gone, my heart still racing at double speed, no doubt from the adrenaline of fighting with such an infuriating asshole. I look at the other side of my door to find a gaping big hole where he has punched it in anger. He is so fucking paying for that.
