“Well, that’s good.” Clementine rolled her eyes. “You got four lap dances?” She asked me softly and I could see the hurt in her eyes.

“It didn’t mean anything to me.” I grabbed her hand. “I only went for Tomas.”

“We’ll talk about it later.” She sighed. “I need to get breakfast and then I have a call with Holden in two hours.”

“Another one?” I let go of her hand and turned away from her and closed my eyes. When was this guy just going to go away?

“We’re finishing up a project Rhett.”

“Yeah, okay. Go and get the coffee, I’ll see you later.” I mumbled, not knowing why I suddenly felt so bereft inside. There was a coldness seeping in and I wasn’t sure why.

“I know you’re not mad at me, Rhett Madison.” Her voice was annoyed. “Mr. I got four lap dances while I told you I was bowling last night.”

“And how was studying?” I finally opened my eyes up and looked at her. “Was that all you did?” I asked accusingly, knowing I was acting like a jealous boyfriend. I had absolutely no reason to think that anything else was happening. I knew I was being irrational and then I saw the red hue rising in her face and my stomach dropped. Maybe I wasn’t being so irrational after all.

Chapter Four

Clementine

So I open the window,

hoping the breeze blows.

Birds going crazy.

I’m wondering how they know.

“The Fire In My Head” by David Berkeley- The Fire in My Head

It’s funny. You always think that once you get the guy, everything in your life is going to be great. And if he loves you, well what more can you ask for? That’s the dream right? Meet the right guy; fall in love and everything else is smooth sailing. That’s not always how it works out. No one told me that going from friends to lovers was going to be so hard or so different. Not one person. Well, asides from Penelope. And I didn’t want to hear a word she had to say. I mean, how could I trust her advice? She’d tried to sleep with him. Just thinking about them touching made me cringe.

“I’ll have three black coffee’s please and three cheese croissants.” I smiled at the barista though I really wanted to get Rhett some veggie juice or something. I’d played it off and smiled at his lies, but I was hurt and upset. I didn’t understand why he’d lied to me. I mean, I understood that maybe he didn’t want me to know about the strip-club, but to keep up the lie was hurtful. It was even more hurtful to know that he’d gotten a lap dance - several in fact. A part of my brain wanted to know exactly what had gone on during the lap dance. Had he gotten hard? Was he attracted to any of the women? Did he wish he could spend the night with any of them?

“Any sugar?” The barista asked me and I could tell this wasn’t the first time.

“Sorry, no.” I apologized. “I was thinking about something.”

“That’s fine.” She looked bored. “You can go and wait over there.”

“Oh okay, sure.” I nodded and walked to the end of the counter.

“Clementine?” I heard Holden’s voice behind me and turned around.

“Hey,” I smiled at him weakly, not wanting to think of the night before.

“I thought that was you. How are you?”

“Fine.” I nodded, a bit freaked out. What was he doing here?

“Last night was good. I think we’re going to ace the assignment.” He smiled at me again, his dimples making his face look more boyishly handsome.

“I hope so.” I nodded.

“About last last...” He started and paused. “I just wanted to say sorry.”

“It’s fine.” I nodded awkwardly; as I thought about the light kiss he’d given me on the lips as I’d been sitting on the couch waiting for the pizza to arrive.

“I thought that...” His voice trailed off and we both stood there awkwardly.

“It’s okay. No harm, no foul.”

“I really like you Clementine.” He looked into my eyes searchingly. “I know that maybe I shouldn’t be saying this.”

“You don’t even know me.” I shook my head, my voice and eyes pleading with him to stop.

“What I know I like.”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“He’s a meathead.” He made a face. “No offense, of course, but I don’t know, I don’t think he’s right for you.”

“You don’t even know him.” I sighed. “Please, don’t say anything else. Rhett is my best friend, he’s my—”

“You do realize that you just said he’s your best friend? You didn’t say that he’s your boyfriend. You didn’t say he was the love of your life.”

“Holden.” I was getting annoyed. “It doesn’t matter what I say, please stop.”

“Even though he lied to you?” He sounded confused. “In my book, it’s not a very trustworthy boyfriend that tells his girlfriend that he’s bowling when he’s busy getting a hand job at a strip-club.”

“That’s not fair.” I sighed, wishing I hadn’t told him about Rhett’s lie. “And he didn’t get a hand job.”

“Okay then, a blowjob.” His face reddened. “I’m sorry to use such crude language with you, but what do you think goes down at strip-clubs?”

“I’m not going to talk about this with you.” My face grew warm with humiliation as I thought about Rhett getting a hand job in the strip club. He wouldn’t do that, would he? I bit on my lower lip as I tried to remember the stories he’d told me from before we started dating. What had he done before? I knew that he and Tomas used to like to touch the girls’ breasts and bet if they were real or not and I knew that he’d once had an accident in his pants when he’d worn only sweatpants and nothing else. I felt sick even thinking about that story, but I knew I couldn’t bring it up. It was a story he’d told me when he was 18 and it had only been his second trip. I couldn’t allow myself to get jealous over something that had happened in his past.