Chapter Five: Thomas

I’ll pay for defending her, but I couldn’t let that Price douchebag talk to her like that. I may be doing a lot of things, but I do know how to treat a woman. Seeing Sophia’s black eye and then hearing the guy talking to her in such a disrespectful way had brought something out of me. Something that was part of the old Thomas I hadn’t felt in a long time.

I suddenly felt protective of her. Something in my brain said, defend your girl, you asshole. That wasn’t at all what I’d expected. We were a quick screw in the employee bathroom or a suck and blow in the parking lot. We were not in a relationship and I didn’t relish the idea of changing that status, and yet it felt good to step up for her.

Instead of going back to my house and facing the photographers that likely have started to arrive there, I decide to head to a buddies’ house. I’ve learned the hard way over the past few years if people have cell phones in the bars, clubs, supermarkets, or parks where you are, the paparazzi is going to hear about it. A lot of companies pay top dollar for a good, clear picture. If you get into a huge fight with someone the paparazzi occasionally feature it’s going to be a big deal.

“What’s up my man. You look like shit.” My friend Mason greets me at the door and lets me in.

“Thanks, you got my text?” I say slipping into his ground floor apartment at Parker Hills. It’s got great security and since he’s a hedge fund manager and of no interest to the public, no cameras flashing.

“Yes, and I’ve been looking on all social media for the hashtags Henry punching and Price goes down.”

“Okay, well we got into a small altercation, I did not punch him.”

“Well, that’s boring as hell. Drink?” Mason walks into his kitchen and I sink onto his couch.

“Please.”

I hadn’t had anything to drink and after the amount of exertion I had put in both with Sophia and running from the bar I was quite thirsty.

“So, how’s Sophia?” Mason asks handing me a Rolling Rock and sitting across from me in a recliner. He’s a good guy in that he doesn’t ask a lot of probing questions I don’t feel like answering, but this situation isn’t one I can ignore either.

He’s the only one I’ve told about Sophia. We’ve been friends forever since we were in the same elementary private school. I don’t trust many people with good reason. Mason is one of the few. He has no interest in his fifteen minutes of fame or acquiring it through me. He’d just rather be alone.

I stare at the glass in my hands, watching as the ice slides back and forth. “She’s good. I was defending her, that’s what I didn’t include in the message.”

Mason sits up on the edge of his seat. “Defending her? What for?” He was with me when I broke up with Rosa, he probably senses there’s more to this story then I’m letting on and he’d be right. I may or may not have slept on his couch under a blanket for three days straight. I came up to pee and chug liquor. He’s a great friend.

I grind my jaws so hard together my teeth hurt. Just the thought of how he talked to her causes my blood to boil all over again.

I take a large sip of my drink and relish in the slow burn as it works its way through my chest and into my belly. It warms my veins. I blow out an annoyed huff. “She kicked out that Price dick’s girlfriend and got punched.” I peel the label off the beer bottle and wonder what would have happened if I’d been inside the bar sooner. That wasn’t how Sophia and I operated but still.

Mason held up his hand. “Wait, wait. Price punched Sophia”

I shake my head. “No, Price’s girlfriend was starting shit and when Sophia went to break it up, the girl punched her in the eye. Price’s panties were in a bunch because his girlfriend got tossed out on her bony ass.” I’m thinking the girl deserved it and then some. “He was in her face. What kind of a tool tries to get in a fight with a broad?” I snort as an image of Sophia laying waste to all those trust fund brats emerges. Fairly certain she’d give me a good run for my money. Mason’s voice pulls me out of my fantasy.

“From what you’ve told me, Sophia can take care of herself.” He leans back swigging his beer and then rests his hands on his stomach looking at me with a thoughtful glance I shake off. He’s assessing this like he does his funds and it's annoying to be under the scrutiny.

“Oh, I’m certain she can but still, I couldn’t let him talk to her like that.” I drain my glass and push from the sofa. I make my way into the kitchen in search of something to eat. I’m, starved. I rummage in the fridge but don’t find anything appealing.

I spy a box of cereal on top of the fridge and help myself. I sit back down and begin eating my cereal. That was another good thing about Mason. He let me eat his cereal and didn’t expect anything in return, not that I wouldn’t replace it. I’m not that big of a dick. My nerves are frayed and chewing calms me. The anger and adrenaline from the almost fight hasn’t left my body yet. I feel anxious. I should text Sophia and make sure she’s alright but I force myself to not reach for my phone.

I don’t want to seem overly concerned. We’ve both made it clear we are temporary. A fling that will eventually burn out. While it’s still burning hot, we’ll keep it going. She doesn’t need me texting and bothering her.

Mason finishes his drink and then gives me a shrug. “You’re welcome to stay here tonight. You know I’ve got nothing going on,” Mason says. He grabs the remote and turns on Sports Center.

“And now for everyone’s favorite segment, the gossip segment.” The lady on the television smiles into the camera as a big picture pops up of Rosa. I groan because I already have a feeling I know where this is going.

“Oh shit, man. Let me just change this,” Mason starts.

“No, let’s see what she’s done now.” I lean forward. I can’t escape her. No matter where I go my ex-girlfriend haunts me. I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my gut that whatever is happening with her has something to do with me. I listen as the reporter continues.

“Rosa Diaz, best known for stirring up drama on her reality series, “Diaz Says,” has a new beau in her life.”

Color me surprised because that was not what I was expecting to hear. Now, with my eyes glued to the screen, I lean forward waiting to hear who this mystery man could be.

“Really, man. I can turn it off.” Mason says again. I wave him off and he looks like he’s about to say something else.

I shush him.

“Travis Leano hasn’t really been that well known for his basketball skills. He’s just known for drinking and doing things like this.” The lady on television continues.

It cuts to a video of a very drunk man in basketball shorts and a white tank top dancing on a table. He’s yelling obscenities, so the censors are beeping every other word. Whoever is manning the camera scans the crowd and shows a table with dozens of bottles of liquor piled up and a bag of weed sitting on a pool table.

When he gets to the end of the table it upends because of the uneven weight distribution. I chuckle as I watch the chump has to climb drunkenly to his feet, cursing anyone who gets in his way as he tries to walk out of the room. It appears to be a house party, there is loud music playing and a lot of people cheering after his fall.

He rudely pushes one girl out of his way, and the person filming follows her as she falls to the ground and cries out. The basketball star proceeds to go outside and piss on the porch. Despite Leano’s belligerence and verbal abuse, the cameraman is persistent. I watch the whole scene unfold as the moron half walks half trips from the sidewalk to his car. He seriously can’t be getting behind the wheel drunk with that many people watching him. Really? The camera still follows, videoing him trying to get into his car, as some of his buddies come out and try to wrestle the keys away from him. It’s irresponsible and disgusting and I can’t help but wonder what Rosa would see in a train wreck like that.

After a moment of stunned silence, I lean back on the couch. That is who she left me for? We’ve been broken up for a while, but her sister told me she left me for a basketball player. I thought we were having problems, she was warming up his bed. I don’t love her anymore but I don’t like the idea of her scrapping the bottom of the barrel for a dude like this. To say I’m shocked is an understatement.

I voice this much to Mason, and when I look over at him he winces and avoids my gaze. I frown. “What aren’t you telling me?” I ask.

He shifts anxiously in his seat and I know that whatever he’s about to tell me is something he’s been keeping from me for a while, though I don’t know how. Mason isn’t widely known for his ability to keep secrets, but the guilt on his face is blatant.

“Out with it man,” I demand.

He clears his throat. “I didn’t really want you to know she was with him,” Mason says.

“How did you know?” I frown while trying my hardest not to feel betrayed because he didn’t tell me.

“I went to this charity thing with Talia last week,” he continues. “They were there. He is not someone who should be at a black-tie function. He made the biggest ass of himself because he’s on a pro-basketball team. I honestly can’t believe she’s with him. She’s insane if that’s what she left you for.”

“Cheated on me with,” I correct. I don’t know why that matters but it does. “He’s the tool that she cheated on me with. I’m the one that left her. Despite what all the damn tabloids say.” I grouse and shovel more cereal in my mouth chewing so I don’t choke on the thoughts.

I’m pissed all over again. The media always likes to paint the woman as the victim. I left her. I broke her heart. I wanted to see other people. None of these things were even remotely true.

My mind turns to Sophia, and I find myself wondering if she’s seeing anyone else. It doesn’t matter if she is, I’d just like to know if I’m in a rotation.

Okay, that might have been a little harsh, but damn, the woman is smoking hot, much hotter than Rosa. In fact, she and Rosa have close to nothing in common. The only thing that they have in common was their Latino backgrounds. Maybe I have a type, but Sophia is different.

The television is still talking about them. “Time will tell if the spicy Diaz can tame this Dominican wild card. Judging by this footage of them together, it seems she might.”

I wrinkle my nose at this show and its ridiculous names for these people. I continue to watch as the scene transitions from the all-night party in some undisclosed city to somewhere tropical. Bright blue water is in the background while the waves break over white sand beaches. It’s a place I would have taken her for a romantic getaway and instead she’s with this dumbass. I ponder taking Sophia somewhere where no one knows us. Somewhere that give us a chance to drown in each other and see where this goes.

The video shows Rosa looking gorgeous in a flowing white wrap over a gold bikini and the Dominican wild card on the beach. The wind is blowing through her hair as she walks looking thoughtful. They are splashing each other in the ocean and she’s laughing. He grabs his dick at some people as they walk by, sticking out his tongue and rapidly flicking it up and down. I watch as Rosa just laughs and playfully slaps him on the arm. What in the hell? Is she completely okay with that kind of behavior? If I had even though about belching in public I got a forty-five-minute lecture about manners and essentially how the entire world is rude and socially unacceptable because of my actions.

“Charming,” I grunt.

When the television finally switches to some other breaking story, I’m thrilled. I look over at Mason and he’s busy staring down at his phone.

I remove my phone from my pocket and consider calling Sophia to check on her. I wonder how the rest of her night went. How did she handle the paparazzi when they showed up? Did she take a swing at them? How’s her black eye after all of this?

I snicker to myself as I think about the differences between Rosa and Sophia. Rosa has always been sophisticated. She came from a home filled with money. She never had to struggle for anything. Her biggest struggle was which Prada shoes to wear.

Sophia, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. She is a girl that knows what it was like to struggle in life. She has worked hard for what little she has. I can tell her job isn’t her favorite, but she does the best that she can.

The more I thought about her, the more my mind wandered back to our little tryst in the bathroom. Inwardly I groan as I can still hear her wild panting breaths and feel her nails raking over my back. Suddenly, my anger and annoyance with Rosa begin to slip away. I grin to myself when I think about watching her reflection in the mirror as she came around me. She was breathless, wild, and carefree. I wanted to suck my mark into the arch of her neck and make sure everyone knew she was taken. Again, it’s just a fun time nothing serious, she’s not taken. I need to get ahold of my thoughts lately, however, she is still really hot.

I’ll just keep that image in mind whenever Rosa tries to sneak in.