How to Date the Guy You Hate by Julie Kriss Page 0,62
buzzed in my hand again. Another text. Jason, please answer me.
I cleared my throat. “Okay,” I said. “I’m going to be a grownup here, instead of just wondering. Why are you getting texts from your ex- fiancée?”
“It’s a long story,” he said.
“So tell me.”
He raised his gaze to mine again and sighed. “I ran into one of her friends at Zoot Bar. She started talking about how Charlotte never went out, how she wasn’t dating anyone. How she thought Charlotte might want to get back together. So I told her I had a girlfriend.”
“Because you knew she’d tell Charlotte,” I said.
“Yes. And she did. But I forgot that it would have the opposite effect.”
“What does that mean?”
“I was always Charlotte’s project,” he said, so flatly I felt nausea in my stomach. “Not a successful project, mind you, but a project. When we broke up, I wasn’t her project anymore. But when she learned I had a girlfriend…”
“She was interested again,” I said.
He shrugged. “She doesn’t want me,” he said. “She likes control. If I’m sitting home alone, she still controls me, even if we’re broken up. Her control disappears if I’m fucking someone.”
The only thing that made me angrier than Jason Carsleigh, I realized with sudden shock, was the idea of someone treating Jason Carsleigh like dirt. Stabby didn’t cover it, but it came close.
The phone buzzed in my hand again. I really think we should talk. Call me?
“This woman has big fucking problems,” I said.
“I’m not answering her,” he said calmly, as if he was used to dealing with this. “Read the texts.”
“I don’t need to snoop through your texts.”
“It isn’t snooping if I tell you to do it. Go ahead.”
I’m only human; I was burning with a toxic curiosity. So I tapped the text icon and looked back through their conversation.
There was no conversation. Just Charlotte sending text after text, trying every trick in her book of manipulation. Guilt. Fake concern. Accusations. Anything to get him to answer her. There were a series of missed calls, too. I thought about his phone buzzing as we’d sat in our hotel room. When I scrolled back far enough, I saw a single reply from him after the first few texts: There’s nothing to talk about. It’s over.
I looked up to see him watching me. “Jason, this is ridiculous. Is she nuts?”
“She’s used to having me do what she says.” A smile touched the corner of his mouth, but didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t do that anymore.”
No, you fucking don’t. “Let me help,” I said.
He shook his head. “I don’t need you to help me with my ex-girlfriend. I’ll handle it.”
“I know you don’t need my help.” I held up the phone. “But let me have a little fun with Miss Seven Times.”
He groaned. “Please don’t bring up my shitty sex life ever again.”
“I promise not to if you let me do this.”
“Do whatever you want.”
It was said casually, but underneath, it was anything but casual. He was trusting me. I knew it, and he knew I knew it. The moment held tight for a second, and then I turned to the texting app.
Hey, I wrote. This is Jason’s new gf! He gave me his phone. He is not reading these as we are super busy right now if you know what I mean
I added emojis and kthx, just because.
There was a moment of pained silence, and then she wrote: Who is this?
Actually it’s nice to talk to u, I wrote. Thx for dumping him because he is super HOTTTTTTTTTTTTT and now he’s all mine. XO.
Silence.
“I think this was a bad idea,” Jason said nervously.
I held up a finger. “Hold on, I’m inspired. This is good.” U did me a big favor, I wrote. He is so awesome and his dick is so big and he is amaaaaaaazzzzzzing in bed—
“Megan.”
“Ssh,” I said. “I just said your dick is big.”
“Oh, Jesus,” he said, but he was laughing.
—but he is changing his number, I finished, becuz I don’t share. I added a sad face. And then XO again. I handed the phone back to him.
He read the messages. The phone didn’t buzz. Apparently, Charlotte had nothing to say.
He blinked at what I’d written, and then he looked up at me. He cocked one eyebrow, mischief in his gorgeous brown eyes.
“Nice,” he said. “I knew you liked me.”
And just like that, I knew I was in love with him.
It was just that easy.
Twenty-Seven
Jason
“You,” said Edie, “have woman problems.”
It was two weeks after the