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“Yeah.” She giggles. “Like, in my bed sleeping at this very minute.”
“Oh. My. God. Oh my God!”
“I know right. What are the odds that we’d both end up fucking Hollywood men at the same time? Well, not at the same time, same time. You know what I mean.”
“This is crazy. I told you he was into you. No man begs for a woman he’s already had unless he wants to keep having her.”
“It’s been insane. We haven’t left my house. I’m pretty sure my vagina is going to fall off if we keep this up. I’ve never had so much sex.”
“Funny enough, I know how you feel.”
“Shit. I think he’s awake,” she whisper hisses into the phone. “I gotta go.”
“Call me later…” I’m not sure she even hears me, she hangs up that quickly.
I spend the rest of the drive to my open house thinking about Bonnie and Beckett. About me and Treyton. About everything that’s happened so far this summer.
It’s been eventful, I’ll say that.
But also amazing, and wonderful, and breathtaking.
I have loved every single second of getting to know Treyton and in truth, I still can’t believe that he’s my boyfriend.
Can I call himboyfriend?
That’s what he is, right? My boyfriend?
I laugh at myself.
I don’t think it really matters what I call him. The end result is still the same.
I love him.
And I think it’s about time he knows it.
If he’s confident enough in what we share, to have our faces plastered all over magazines and to crash dinner with my parents, then I should be confident enough to tell him how I feel.
As soon as I pull into the driveway of the Santa Monica house and park, I grab my cell, pulling up mine and Treyton’s text thread. But before I can type a single thing, a message pops up from an unknown number with a video attached.
I know enough about technology to never open things like that unless you know who’s sending it, so I don’t pay it a bit of attention, swiping it away before turning my attention back to what I’m doing. Only another message pops up, and this one has text involved.
Out of sheer curiosity, I click on it.
Unknown:Just thought you should know the truth.
Just thought you should know the truth…
What does that even mean?
I look closer at the preview box on the video message, but I can’t make out what I’m looking at. A blue shirt? A blurry background? It’s so hard to tell.
If it were just the video, I’d never open it. But something about the message makes me too curious to ignore it a second time.
So, with a deep inhale, I click on the video…
