It’s a mind-blowing thing to realize, considering how long T-Rod has been my gold standard of hotness. My go-to masturbation fantasy. But it’s the undeniable truth. Georgina owns me now. Georgina is my new gold standard. My queen. Before today, I knew Georgina had burrowed herself underneath my skin and slithered her way into my bloodstream. But now, as I sit here trying in vain to “move on” and “get over it” and “be fine,” I realize something shocking: Georgina has embedded herself into the very tissues of my heart.
T-Rod laughs, along with everyone around her, so, I shift my gaze to the birthday girl to see what’s up and discover Hazel has just smashed a large glob of white frosting into her face. She was aiming for her mouth, and missed, apparently. And the crowd loves it. I don’t blame them. It’s a cute moment. Objectively humorous. But I don’t give a shit. Because... Georgina. If only she’d call me to let me explain!
I glance at T-Rod again, and marvel at how much she reminds me of Georgina. In ten years, I bet that’s exactly how Georgina will look. T-Rod is a crystal ball showing me Georgina as a mommy. Georgina as a wife.
Out of nowhere, while I’m still staring at T-Rod, her asshole husband gives her a kiss and then glares at me. I quickly look away. Was that a not-so-subtle message to me? Did Ryan notice me staring at his wife and decide he needed to stake his claim? Fucker. Calm down, man. I don’t even want your fucking wife anymore. I was just imagining she was someone else. Someone who used to trust me.
Aw, fuck. Out of nowhere, I’m having a horrible thought. If I don’t win Georgina back, pronto, if I don’t fix this mess I’ve created, Georgina is going to “get over it” and “move on to the next” and “be fine.” Maybe one day soon. And then, one day, ten years from now, she’s going to be standing at a kiddie birthday party alongside her asshole husband, holding his baby on her hip, getting kissed by him when he notices some pathetic loser staring at her. And I won’t be Georgina’s asshole husband in this scenario. I’ll be the pathetic loser staring at her, wishing she were mine.
Testosterone whooshes into my bloodstream. White-hot jealousy. Aching regret. And all of it followed by a tidal wave of panic. If I don’t fix this right away, Georgina is going to move on to the next. She’s going to fuck someone else. Fall in love with someone else. Get married to, and have babies with, someone else.
In a flash, most likely to avoid my head physically exploding, my brain transforms T-Rod across the patio into Georgina. And Ryan into me. That’s my baby on Georgina’s hip now. Nobody else’s. Georgina fucked me to make that baby happen. Nobody else. In fact, in this fantasy, Georgina never fucked anyone else, after me. Ever again. And she certainly never pledged her undying love to some other motherfucker. Hell no. She pledged her undying love to me.
Calm washes over me. Obviously, I’ve got no desire to get married or have a baby, not even with Georgina. But I sure as hell don’t want her doing either of those things with someone else.
I finish off my Bloody Mary and check my phone again. But, still, nothing from Georgina. Just more shit I don’t care about from Owen.
I shouldn’t do it, I know, but I can’t help myself. I tap out yet another ill-advised text to Georgina. And then, just because I’m in my texts, I answer Owen, too, including telling him he’s fired, just for kicks. But it’s no use. Nothing, not even “firing” Owen, is numbing this searing pain. The only thing that could possibly help me now would be seeing Georgina’s name lighting up my phone.
“I’ve brought reinforcements,” a voice says, and when I look up from my screen, Henn is standing before me, holding two drinks. In reaction to whatever misery he’s seeing on my face, his features contort with concern. “Aw, Reed. If you feel half as miserable as you look, then I’m sincerely worried about you.”
Chapter 2
Reed
Henn gives me a choice between his two proffered drinks. When I pick the gin and tonic, he sits across from me with the vodka soda. “You’re not planning to join the party today at all?”
“It’s for the best. I can’t imagine anyone wants me walking around, scaring all the little kiddies. Have you made any progress on hacking the football coach yet?”
Henn looks annoyed. “When would I have worked on that for you, since the last time you asked me about it—which was last night, at your party, when I was shitfaced?”
“I think I’m going crazy, Henn. I can’t stand the fact that he’s out in the world, living his best life, and not suffering at all for what he did to Georgie. She was seventeen. He was her teacher. She trusted him.” Georgina’s words as she screamed at me last night slam into me, yet again: I trusted you, Reed! And, once again, my heart twists painfully. I whisper, “I swear, if I could take a hit out on this guy, and know I wouldn’t get caught, I’d do it.”