“And they would be?”
Not sure why she’s giving me the third degree, but it is late, and I don’t want her to be concerned. I shrug. “Jinxy, that guy Carlo and his cousin Marc, a girl named Sarah, and Vicky.”
She stares at me a long moment. “Vicky? Your ex? That Vicky?”
“We didn’t really date.”
“No, you just slept with her from time to time. Yes, perhaps we should clarify that.” She lets out a breath while I try to catch mine. Where is this going? “Why didn’t you tell me you had a class and were in a study group with your former friend with benefits?”
“I don’t know. Because you didn’t ask? It didn’t seem relevant.”
Her eye twitches, and she rubs it. “So if I wanted to do a late-night study group and have dinner with someone I used to fuck, that would be okay? Like, let’s say Ezra was in my study group, and I was out with him until almost midnight.”
“What the fuck is going on right now?”
“Funny, because I wanted to ask you the same thing.”
I stare at her for a minute while I try to gather my thoughts. I know she’s suspicious because of the lipstick on my collar lastweekend, but that probably did belong to my mom. It wasn’t like I made out with Samantha or anything, and bringing her up now would only piss off Roxy more. “If you don’t trust me, why don’t you just say that?”
“Okay, I don’t trust you.”
Damn. That hurts. I let out a caustic laugh. “Fuck, Roxanne. After everything we’ve been through? What have I ever done to make you not trust me?”
“Where’s your jacket?”
I squint at her, unable to keep up with this conversation. “My jacket?”
“The suit jacket you wore last weekend. Where is it?”
Shrugging, I motion toward the bedroom. “Probably in the closet.”
“It’s not in the closet. Nor is it in your laundry. So unless it’s balled up in your gym bag, I’d like to know where it is.”
This is seriously starting to piss me off. “I haven’t a fucking clue. Why are you acting like this?”
“Like what?”
“Like a jealous girlfriend who can’t deal with the fact that I have a life outside of this apartment.”
Her chin wobbles, and I feel like an ass, but then she says, “I’m acting like this because I heard you went on adatelast weekend with someone named Samantha. That you wenthomewith Samantha.”
I stare at her, confused. “How the hell do you know about Sam?”
Her eyes narrow into sharp slits. “So youdidgo on a date? Was all of that stuff about going to Austin for your mom’s birthday just bullshit? Or was the part about not being able to bring me bullshit?”
“Calm down, Roxanne. I didn’t invite her. My father did. She’s just a friend.”
Her wild laugh is unnerving. “A friend? She didn’t look like a friend in those photos.”
“What photos?”
“Did you fuck her?”
“Jesus, no.” She doesn’t look like she believes me.
“You’re saying you’veneverslept with her?”
Fuck. I wince, hating that the truth is going to flip her out, but I won’t lie to her. “It was a long time ago.”
