Tyed(57)

“He wanted to build his career. I agree that he was very young and unbelievably foolish to do what he's done. It's appalling, really, but is it your place to forgive him? He hasn't done anything to you, sweetheart. He just has baggage that is incredibly difficult to stomach."

Is Nana high?

“He. Was. A. Male. Prostitute,” I pronounce slowly, hoping it’ll drill into her brain. "And he messed up my best friend's car. And he kept this information from me, even though he knew it was one hell of a deal-breaker."

She watches me swirling the ice in my empty glass and hands me her drink. I guzzle it.

“I know how you feel, honey.”

No you don't, I think. You have no idea.

"I'm just saying you may feel differently in a few months. You can close the door on your relationship with Tyler for now. Just don't lock it."

I rest my forehead on the bar counter and close my eyes. This is a nightmare. Ty loves sex. Even if I do change my mind about him (which I won't), there's no way he'll wait for me. Hell, he's probably already planning to either lick his wounds or celebrate his win with another, brand new girl tonight.

I should totally lock the door behind my relationship with Ty. I already slammed it hard enough for everyone around me to hear.

***

I crawl back to my room and push the door open. The first thing I notice is that Izzy isn’t here. Our huge bed is empty, sheets and bedtime mints still neatly in place. We’ve been moved to a different suite since yesterday, seeing as our previous room had its door kicked in by a violent, man-whore maniac. For a moment, I wonder whether I’ve actually entered the right room. But I did.

And it’s still empty.

I stagger to the dresser and pick up a box with a card addressed Barbie. The box is white, sophisticated and inviting. I don’t need to guess who it’s from. I open the small box and find a fancy new cell phone inside. I turn on the phone and watch as the screen lights up. One new text message, the cell alerts. Checking it, I see Ty has already saved his contact number under the name “My Remorseful Boyfriend.” His text says Don't do this to us.

It was sent way past midnight, a few hours after he was done fighting, and it clearly suggests there was no after-party on his agenda.

Not that I care. We're done.

I stay up most of the night, re-reading Ty’s message over and over again. This is bad. I should not be left alone, with my feelings so confusing right now. Where the hell is Izzy? I mull over Ty's conversation with Ray.

Hundreds of women.

Hundreds of them.

Big, small, tall, short, brunettes, blondes, dumb, smart, good in bed, bad in bed, tongues, teeth, lips, fingers, positions we tried, positions we didn't. The list goes on.

I squeeze the new phone so hard I wince. I thought he saw me, but he didn't see shit.

I’m sitting in a chair next to the window, legs crossed, ignoring the view and facing the door, when I hear it creaking open. Izzy tiptoes barefoot into the room, holding her heels in her hand, not turning on the lights.

“Hope you enjoyed it,” I rasp from the gloom.

Izzy jumps and lets out a small shriek. “You scared the hell outta me.”

“Ditto. Where have you been?” I stand up and walk toward my sister, skimming her. Yeah. She definitely looks guilty. Flushed as hell.

“I went for a walk.”

“Down Liarsville? How’s the weather there?”

“Blaire.”

“Izzy?”

She drops the heels on the floor and plops on the bed, rubbing her feet. “I’ll tell you once you take a chill pill for real.”

“Do I look like I need more lies and secrets in my life?”

“Fine. I went to see Shane in his room.” She grabs a bottle of water from the minibar. Shaking her head. she takes a gulp and stared past me out the window.

The strip is still alive. Everyone else in this town seems to be enjoying it. She turns on the TV.

I snatch the remote, turning it off. "I don't want to know if he won or lost," I explain.

Izzy nods. "Shane broke up with Gemma before he came to Vegas." She smiles thinly. Not surprising, after what she told me about their little escapade abroad. These two will either kill each other or get married in the next few months, I'm sure.

"I'm sort of glad to hear it,” I say, “even though Gemma doesn't deserve it. She seemed cool. He met her at an I Prevail gig."

"Who's side are you on?" She throws a pillow at me, but I duck in time.

My new phone bleeps again, making Izzy send a puzzled glance my way. It’s 4 a.m. I peek at the new text.

My Remorseful Boyfriend says, You’re wasting your time, Barbie. I’m not giving you up.

Shouldn’t Ty be asleep? I'm sure he must be exhausted after the fight.

“Where the hell did this come from?” Izzy is ogling my new phone like it’s a nuclear device.

“You weren’t here when it arrived?” I pinch my eyebrows. “So who got it into our room?”

We both stare at the phone with dazed eyes.

"Hotel stuff. Like, d'uh," Izzy blinks twice, trying to decipher why I'm so slow.

"He started sending me gifts," I mutter to myself.

"That's so nice of him," Izzy concludes. "But unnecessary. Not being a man-whore would have been just as sufficient."