"The last time we fucked?" How many goddamn times do I need to be reminded that he fucked the woman on the other end of the phone? "I don't know." Her breathing stalls for a few seconds. "It was before Labor day last year, so I guess a little more than a year ago?"
He ignores her response and stares straight at me.
"Do you want to meet up or not?" I can hear the expectation in her voice.
"No."
"Maybe tomorrow then?" she asks quietly.
"Never." He looks down at the screen. "Don't call my office again and forget this number."
"What?"
"Forget you ever knew me." He ends the call with a quick tap of his thumb. "Happy now?"
Chapter 3
"Enough." Why the hell was he doing this? He'd now called three more women and grilled each of them about the last time he'd had his dick in them. "I don't want to hear anymore."
"Do you believe me that I'm not fucking anyone else?" The question is meant to challenge me. "If you don't, I'll call every woman on this phone. I have all night."
"Why do you still have it?" I stand and cross my arms over my chest. I wish I hadn't worn such a low cut dress.
He straightens so he's sitting upright, his arm casually thrown over the back of the couch, his legs crossed. He looks so at ease. "I told you I rarely look at it."
"It's almost fully charged and it was turned on when I found it." I'm not backing down from this. I refuse to. He thinks that by calling a handful of the hundreds of women on that phone and asking when he last banged them, that he's off the hook. Not so fast, Mr. Moore.
"So?"
"So?" That's his retort and he calls himself a lawyer. "If you didn't care about any of those women and you weren't planning on sleeping with them, why keep the phone?"
"Your number is in there." He means it as a compliment. It's a backhanded, disgusting and degrading reminder that I'm just another random fuck.
I swear I almost physically recoil from the comment. "Why isn't my number in there?" I point to the other smartphone, the one that he showed me earlier that has my picture on it.
"Jessica." The calm exterior that he's trying to maintain is quickly melting away. "You're taking this all wrong."
"I'm taking this at face value." I try and stay composed. I have to. I can't fall into a driveling mess at his feet. I refuse to even though everything inside of me is breaking into pieces.
"You're the one who broke into my room." The amusement skirting the statement pulls at my anger.
I dart my hand towards him. "Give me the phone."
"What?" He cradles it in his hand. "Why?"
"Give me the goddamn phone, Nathan."
He leans forward to offer it to me. "What are you going to do with it?" The question irks me even more.
"Does it matter?" I step out of his reach, pulling my thumb across the screen.
"No, it's…it's just that I," he stammers as he stares at my finger tapping.
"Cat got your tongue, Nate?" I glance up from the phone. "Or maybe one of these women has a tongue you can't resist?"
"No," he scoffs. "I told you I'm done with them."
"You're done with me too." I tos