Reparation (The Kane Trilogy, #3)(31)

“If I call her, and she denies all of this, I am going to be very pissed,” he said slowly, picking up his phone.

“Not fair! What if she denies it just to prolong it!? Call Sanders!” Tate demanded. Ang held up his hand and pressed his phone to his ear.

“El? Hey, Ang. Uuugggg, don't call me that, I hate my full name. I know, but he's the devil. Yeah. Yeah. So, something really weird happened ..., uh huh. Uh huh. She ..., called,” his eyes moved to stare at Tate. “Uh huh. I see. I see. Really. Really? Ooohhh. I didn't realize. No. No, not at all. Just glad to know how it is – I totally feel the same, I just thought you would freak out. No, we're totally cool. You're sure about this? Yes, I'm fine. Yes, she told me. No. No. I told her it was cool, she's coming over so I can chill her out. Yeah, I will. Don't talk about her that way, you know I don't like that. Sure. See you then. Okay. Okay. Bye.”

Tate was a little shocked. He had seemed so angry a moment ago – he was really okay with it? Why hadn't he said that from the beginning? She felt very confused. Up until a couple days ago, she had been plotting the destruction of their relationship. If she had just chilled the fu-ck out, it would have dissolved on its own, anyway.

“Wow, Ang, I had no idea you felt the same way, I'm sorry I -,” she started.

“No! fu-ck that! I was fu-cking lying through my teeth! That fu-cking bitch! Used me!? Came between you and I? Shit, Tate, what if that's what this has been about this whole time, her just pissing on you!?” Ang snapped.

“I don't think it was. Really. I think something happened between you two, she liked it, she kept it going, then it got out of hand and she didn't have the balls to back off. She could never be like us,” Tate said quickly. He shook his head.

“I'm so pissed. Do you know how many women I could have been having sex with? This whole time?”

“I'm sorry, Ang,” Tate said softly, rubbing her hand against his leg. He sighed.

“I was stupid. You O'Shea girls, I swear,” he grumbled. She nodded.

“I know. Who ever raised us, that was Satan,” she joked.

“Totally. God. I could really use that revenge fu-ck now,” he groaned. She laughed.

“You had your chance. Should've taken it.”

“I mean ..., just ..., what the fu-ck!? I haven't had a legit girlfriend in like six years, since I was nineteen. I haven't had sex with one single other woman since I got with her!” he snapped.

“Such a waste. The world is missing out.”

“I know! fu-ck. fu-cking bitch,” he growled.

“I know.”

“I thought ..., I thought she liked me,” he mumbled, running his hand through his hair. Tate frowned.

“If it makes you feel better, I don't think she knows how to like people. Not for real. She was still talking shit about me stealing Jameson. It's insane. She's sleeping with you and pregnant with another guy's baby, and she's still obsessed with him. Half the time, I feel like I can't get rid of him, and here she is, wanting him,” Tate laughed.

“Kitty cat?”

“Hmmm?”

“Could we, just this once, not talk about the goddamn devil?”

“Of course.”

Ang suddenly scrambled to get off the bed, almost knocking her over in the process. She ducked under his legs and stared as he hurried to pull clothing out of a hamper. He changed into a pair of expensive looking jeans, dug a little more, then pulled out a really nice, slim fitting, button up shirt. He rolled the sleeves up to his elbows then bent to look in a mirror, raking his fingers through his hair.

“How do I look?” he asked, hopping into a pair of shoes. Tate blinked up at him.

“Uh, really good, actually,” she replied. He held out his arms.

“Like how good? fu-ckable good?” he asked.

She let her eyes wander over him. She had always thought Ang was sexy, since the first time she'd ever met him. In a completely different way from Jameson, Ang wasn't predatory at all. He was more subtle. Like the guy who would've snuck in her bedroom window and stolen her virginity, right before her prom date was supposed to pick her up. He had a naughty-fun smile and his hair always looked like some woman had just clawed her hands through it, not to mention that his lean body just looked built for fast times. Tate nodded.

“Very fu-ckable. Why?” she asked. He grabbed her hand and pulled her up, practically dragging her out of his bedroom.

“I just can't believe her,” Ang grumbled, letting go of Tate's hand and stalking around the apartment. She watched as he undid the bolt lock and chain lock from the door. Then he ducked down to stare out the peephole.

“Ang. What the fu-ck are you doing?” she asked. He waved an arm at her.

“Shut up. She's gonna be here any second,” he mumbled, leaning to the side, obviously trying to look down the hall.

“What?” Tate was a little shocked. “Ang, maybe I should go. It's, like, between you two, and I don't want to get arrested for beating up a pregnant woman.”

“You won't beat her up, I just want to -, shit! She's here! She's here!” he hissed, and hightailed it back to her side. Tate could hear the sound of a key in the lock.

“Good god, Ang, you gave her a key!? I didn't even -,”