Chapter 29
RIX
I am fuming. Absolutely fuming. I cannot believe Tristan flew to freaking Vancouver to talk to me, changed his mind, and ended up on the same damn flight home.
Having my heart tossed into a meat grinder once is bad enough, but to have him do it all over again less than a week later is more than I can handle.
For a second I was excited to see him. Until he went and opened his word hole.
I fucking hate him. HATE him. Selfish, arrogant fuckboy.
As soon as we land, I disappear into the first available bathroom and unleash a nightmare made of refried beans and heartbreak.
I spend a good forty-five minutes in there.
Ten of them actually using the bathroom, another ten waiting out whoever is in the bathroom with me out of sheer embarrassment, and then another twenty-five after Tristan texts me to tell me he’s at baggage claim. Maybe as a warning? Who the fuck knows?
I send him a series of middle fingers:
Rix
╭∩╮(-_-)╭∩╮╭∩╮(-_-)╭∩╮
╭∩╮(-_-)╭∩╮╭∩╮(-_-)╭∩╮
╭∩╮(-_-)╭∩╮╭∩╮(-_-)╭∩╮
╭∩╮(-_-)╭∩╮╭∩╮(-_-)╭∩╮
╭∩╮(-_-)╭∩╮╭∩╮(-_-)╭∩╮
╭∩╮(-_-)╭∩╮╭∩╮(-_-)╭∩╮
╭∩╮(-_-)╭∩╮╭∩╮(-_-)╭∩╮
╭∩╮(-_-)╭∩╮╭∩╮(-_-)╭∩╮
Eventually, he messages back with a thumbs-up.
The tears start again. It takes twenty minutes to calm down enough to leave the bathroom.
Normally I would take the train home. It’s infinitely cheaper than an Uber or a cab, but my emotional state is unstable, so I opt to spend the extra money. Crying in front of one person is preferable to crying in front of potential hundreds.
I have messages from Essie asking if I made it home okay. And my brother has called twice but hasn’t left a voicemail. I wonder if Tristan is home already. Probably. His place is a short trip from the airport.
I call Essie once I’m in the back of a cab—they can’t give me a bad rating for being emotional. “You won’t believe who was on the plane.”
“Ryan Reynolds?”
“I wish. I bet he’s just as funny in real life as he is in movies,” I say.
“Do you really want me to guess, or should this be a rhetorical question?”
“We can go with rhetorical. Tristan was on the plane.”
“What? Why? Didn’t he have a game in Toronto yesterday?”
“Yeah. Apparently, he flew out to Vancouver to talk to me, but changed his mind when he got there and ended up on the same flight home as me.”
“What? But why?”
“I don’t know. It was so humiliating. I had a bathroom emergency on the plane and snuck up to use the one in first class since there usually isn’t a line and no one pees on the seat. Also, that dinner we had last night was so stupid. Why do I always eat the refried freaking beans?”
“Because they’re delicious and impossible to resist.”
“It’s so annoyingly true.” I glance at the cab driver, who is dutifully ignoring me. “Anyway, I came out of the bathroom and guess who was sitting in first class wearing the same suit from the game last night.”
“Oh my God.”
“Right? He was shoving candy into his face. And when I confronted him, he said he flew out to talk to me, but changed his mind. Like breaking my heart once wasn’t bad enough.
He had to go and do it again in front of a bunch of people.
I made a scene on a freaking plane. Today is the worst.” Tears leak out.
I don’t stop them. It’s pointless. They’ll fall regardless.
“Oh, muffin. I’m so sorry. What happened when you got off the plane?”
“I had to use the bathroom for obvious stress-induced and refried bean reasons. He messaged to say he was at the baggage carousel. I don’t know if it was a warning or what.
I sent an excessive number of middle finger emojis, and he sent a thumbs-up, and then I cried for twenty minutes, and now I’m in a cab on the way to my apartment. ”
“I feel like there are pieces missing to this story,” Essie muses.
My phone beeps with an incoming call. I check to see who it is. “Crap, that’s my brother. It’s the third time he’s called in the past ten minutes, and he hasn’t left a message.”
“Okay. Call me when you can with an update. I love you.”
“I love you back. Wish I was still in Vancouver. I’ll call you later.” I end the call with Essie and take the one from Flip. “Hey.”
“Hey. How was Vancouver?”
“Great until the flight home.”
“What happened on the flight home?”
“Tristan.”
He’s quiet for a second. “Can you explain that?”
“Evidently he came to Vancouver to talk to me, then decided he didn’t want to talk to me anymore, and we ended up on the same flight home.”
He blows out a breath. “That pussy-ass fucker.”
“It was humiliating.” Especially the part where I said he would pay for everyone’s drinks and the guy beside him reminded me they’re free in first class. And then I tried not to cry for the rest of the flight home. I was unsuccessful.
“What were his exact words? Did he say he didn’t want to talk anymore?” Flip asks.
“He said he changed his mind. Can we not do this right now? I’d prefer not to relive this experience more times than necessary,” I snap.
“For fuck’s sake. You two are hopeless.”
“Thanks for being a supportive brother.” I hang up and turn my phone to silent.
It’s nearly dinnertime when I roll in the door to my apartment. I leave my bag in my room and hop in the shower to rinse off the smell of plane. When I come out of my bedroom, Hammer, Hemi, and Tally are in the living room.
“Yay! You’re back! How was Vancouver?” Hammer bounces across the room and hugs me.
I hug her back. “Vancouver was great.”
She steps back. “It sounds like there’s a but in there?”
“There is, and his name is Tristan. However, I do not feel like crying anymore over that asshole, so can we not talk about him and go get something to eat? All I’ve had today is a mini container of plain Pringles and a Kit Kat.
Also, please, for the love of all that is holy, do not allow me to order anything that includes refried beans. ”
Hammer and Hemi exchange a look. “Okay. Let’s grab dinner.”
“But no refried beans,” Tally adds.
Hemi invites Shilpa to join us since she knows Ashish is with Hollis and Roman. She meets us in the lobby, and we file out of the apartment and over to the restaurant across the street.
“So Essie was good?” Hammer asks once we’re seated in a booth.
“She was great. I needed the break from life. How was everything here this weekend? Tell me what I missed.”
“I made Dallas go to a horse farm to witness the birth of a foal for a promo op,” Hemi says. “The family has a son with a serious medical condition who idolizes him. It was a great opportunity.”
“The legal hoops were absolutely worth it,” Shilpa adds.
“Oh my God, that’s terrible and awesome at the same time.”
“I know. He passed out. It was glorious.”
“The paperwork would have been a nightmare if you hadn’t caught him going down,” Shilpa says.
“I’m so glad they caught that part on camera.
” Hemi smiles evilly for a second before her smile softens.
“But there’s a brand-new foal in the world named Dallas Bright, and a very happy boy, so I feel like the embarrassment of fainting on live video is worth it.
Dallas doesn’t totally agree with me, but I’m okay with that. ”
“You really can’t stand him, can you?” I muse.
“Nope. Not at all. It’s my life’s mission to make his as miserable as possible, one embarrassing promo op at a time.”
We order a pile of appetizers—no tacos or refried beans—and dig in.
While I was gone, Tally let the bad kisser down without having to tell him he’s a bad kisser, and Hammer has decided to go into sports-team PR because she loves her internship.
Shilpa is considering letting Ashish knock her up. It’s been a weekend.
Flip shows up while we’re paying the bill. I’m not in the mood for any kind of I-told-you-so conversation. “If you’re here to rub this in my face and tell me I’m an idiot for dating Tristan, you can save your breath.”
He purses his lips and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “That’s not why I’m here. Can we talk? Just us?”
“Not if you’re going to make me feel shittier than I already do.”
“That’s not my plan.”
I sigh. “Fine.” I shrug into my jacket, hug the girls, and follow Flip into the cold Canadian evening.
We make it half a block before we duck into a coffee shop. I get the most expensive decaf latte on the menu, and he gets a black coffee. “I need to apologize,” he begins.
“For?” I take a seat across from him and wrap my cold hands around my hot coffee cup.
“A lot of things. I was an asshole about you and Tristan.”
“You were, but it’s over now.” I focus on my coffee because saying that makes my heart hurt. “And you were right anyway. He’s a fuckboy, and I should have known better than to fall for him.”
Flip sighs. “He’s not great at relationships, but he’s not really a fuckboy.
Or he wasn’t until I moved in with him. I should’ve curbed my extracurriculars while you were living with us.
Especially after finding out you could hear every detail.
And I shouldn’t have brought home Tiff and Trinity after I found out about you and Tristan.
It wasn’t the right way to handle things. ”
“It was a particularly shitty thing to do, but so was sleeping with Tristan behind your back,” I admit.
“I honestly didn’t think it would go on for as long as it did, or that I would develop real feelings for him.
The longer we were in it, the harder it was to be honest about it, especially knowing what I know about how things went down with you two and your fuck friends. ”