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“It’s kind of hard to talk to you, Trey, when you’re out of the room.”
He reappeared in a moment having put his boxers on and a pair of jeans that he was zipping up as he exited, still shirtless. “I’m listening,” he replied curtly.
“Gina and I got a ride from Rodney over to the track to watch the quarter races. We both got a little drunk and—”
“Damn it! I knowthatpart!” he yelled, “who do you think arranged for your transportation home?”
I wasn’t sure what he expected me to say. “Thank you for that, Trey,” I offered. “I apologize for creating the need for you to have to deal with that.”
“Tylar,” he said, with no patience left, “I know you went to the races. I know you got drunk; I saw the little digital picture that came across on my phone with you and the…the fucking Thompson twins with their matching erections. You're not telling me the rest.”
I wasn’t sure what the rest was except for what Gina had told me. “I see that I need to interrogate you then, since you're not forthcoming with information. I want to know what happened last night.”
Go for it counselor. I was starting to get pissed now.
“Who slept in my bed last night?”
“I did!” I answered truthfully.
“Who else?” he exclaimed, practically screaming.
“No one else!”
He walked over to the bed now, bending over, and pulling his white shirt out from where it was laying on the floor, half of it underneath the bed.
“Who was wearingmyshirt?” he demanded, then immediately grabbed his dark blue robe off of the bed, flinging it over at me. “Who was wearingmyrobe?”
Tears sprang to my eyes. How could he think those kinds of thoughts about me? When I didn’t answer immediately, he took that as some sort of admission of guilt. He continued on his roll, going over to the side of the bed, eager to present more damning evidence to convict me.
“Whathavewe here?” he asked in his attorney-turned-detective voice, once again bending down to retrieve something from the floor. Oh God, it was Gina’s unlit cigarette. It must’ve rolled off of the nightstand onto the floor. “I’ve never seen you smoke, Tylar, and I know that I don’t. Whose cigarette is this?”
I’d finally had enough of his relentless badgering. I was prepared for him to yell at me for getting drunk again and I was prepared for him to rip into me about taking his car out without permission. But there was no way he was going to turn me into a slut that would bring some random guy to his home and hook up with him in Trey’s own bed. I stood up and walked over to where he stood, staring at him sternly.
“You want answers, Trey? Well I'll give you answers.I’m the onewho wore your shirt last night. I wore it to bed after I showered because I wanted—Ineededsomething of yours on my body. I’ve been wearing your robe all week. If you don’t believe me, please ask your cleaning staff. I wouldn’t let them launder it. I used your razor, too. No other man was in here, Trey. No other man used your razor, or wore your shirt or robe. The cigarette belongs to Gina. She doesn’t smoke anymore, but she likes to hold an unlit cigarette with her morning coffee. Last night was the only night that I've slept in your room since you left. I just wanted to feel close to you. Gina came in this afternoon to see how I was. We watched television in here. That’s why the bed was unmade. Any further questions?” I glared at him but he was still fairly pissed.
“What about this body piercing you've gone and done?"
“It’s only a pierced belly button for Chrissake, Trey. It’s not as if I went and had my nipple pierced, not that you'd know!”
He ignored the implication of my last statement. “Tylar, why would you want to desecrate your navel like that?”
This conversation was going nowhere. We were going nowhere. That was apparent when I overheard his dinner plans yesterday evening.
“Trey I’m not apologizing to you for anything other than taking your car out. That was wrong, and unacceptable, and I'm so very sorry. I took advantage of your hospitality, and I hope that you can forgive me for that. As far as your other accusations, whether direct or implied, I won’t apologize for things that I didn't do.” I turned from him and calmly flip-flopped my way out of his room with dignity. Gina stood waiting in the hall.
“I heard everything girlfriend,” she said. “You really handled yourself well, Ty. Where the fuck does he come off all possessive and accusatory like that?”
“Gina, I’ve got to finish getting packed. Do you think your aunt will object to my staying with you?”
“No, not at all,” she answered, “in fact, I was going to suggest the same thing.”
“Good,” I answered. “I’ll come down to your room as soon as I’m finished and we’ll call her, okay?”
“Yep, no problem,” she said, retreating to the east wing.
I was able to fit everything from the dresser drawers into the suitcase. I still had my backpack to fill. I opened the closet and, taking the clothes off of the hangers, folded them neatly in stacks. There was a soft tap on my door.
“It’s open, Gina,” I called out.
