Chapter 248: Falling Down
Yo, Jenny!
This time, it ain't on me.
I shot a look at Brad, who was glaring at me like he was ready to explode. No panic in his eyes, just pure, raw anger.
What’s he got to be pissed about? He brought her back, set everything up. Now our fun time got cut short, and it wasn’t my fault. Why’s he giving me the stink eye?
With a sly grin, I flopped back on the bed, acting like I didn’t see the phone he was shoving at me.
First day back, 9:47 PM, and Jenny’s blowing up Brad’s phone at the hotel. Not exactly the best timing.
What about before? While I was gone for a month, how many times did she hit him up at this hour, and how did he deal with it?
More importantly, what’s she gotta say at this time of night? What kinda problems does a girl need a guy to fix this late?
If Jenny’s calling now with no hidden agenda, just for her injury, who’s buying that?
My chest tightened with annoyance.
It’s not like I’m being petty or can’t handle a life-saver. If some other chick called your boyfriend in the middle of the night, no matter the reason, who could just brush it off?
Seeing my mood tank, Brad quickly silenced the phone and tossed it aside. He flopped back down next to me, letting out a frustrated sigh, running his hands through his hair.
Same bed, same two people, but a few minutes later, and thanks to a phone call, the vibe was totally killed, leaving just awkward silence.
I had no clue what to say.
Throwing the phone aside and not answering, what’s that prove? Drawing a line? Is this how he handled things when I wasn’t around?
If I said I didn’t buy it, would anyone believe me?
Brad lay on his side, watching my face closely. His eyes darted between the phone and me, full of hesitation and questions.
Hesitation about why Jenny was calling so late.
Questions about how I, his official girlfriend, would react to this call, and if it’d mess with the trust and feelings we’ve built over twenty years.
The ringing finally stopped. Brad sighed in relief, about to say something when the phone rang again, cutting him off.
Not answering the phone was just dodging the issue.
“Answer it, ask what’s up.” I told him, trying to stay cool.
“Okay.” Brad sat up, grabbed the phone, and swiped to answer, “Jenny, what’s up so late?”
Brad’s moves were too quick, too smooth. I wanted to call it what it was: impatient.
Was I imagining things?
In the dim room, his voice was calm and steady, but I caught a hint of urgency.
I stared at Brad’s lean, muscular back, lost in thought. I didn’t catch a word of what was said on the phone or how Brad responded. Or maybe, I just didn’t want to hear.
Pretending not to hear means pretending nothing happened. That’s called self-deception.
When the call ended, Brad turned and said, “Jenny’s got something going on, I need to go over.”
It was nearly ten at night when my boyfriend told me he had to go to another girl’s room.
What could be so urgent at night? Even if there was something, shouldn’t they avoid suspicion being alone together?
I pinched my thigh under the blanket, letting the sharp pain remind me to stay calm.
I shut my eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again once I’d squashed the irritation bubbling up inside me. Locking eyes with Brad, I asked, "What's going on? Does it have to be now? Isn't this a bit inconvenient?"
What I didn’t say was, she’s got two personal sidekicks, what could possibly need you?
Brad hesitated, then reached out to stroke my hair, saying softly, "Sweetie, she got hurt because of me. If she's calling this late, it must be something she can't handle. I should go check on her. Be good and sleep, I'll be back soon if it's nothing serious."
And if it was serious, when would you be back?
I thought but didn’t say.
Sometimes I think I’m a walking contradiction.
Like now, logically, Brad should go. He’s right; she got hurt because of him. But emotionally, I absolutely didn’t want my boyfriend going to her room at night. No way, no how.
"I'll go with you. Jenny’s a girl, and it’s not cool for you, a guy, to be in her room at night. With me there, it’ll be more appropriate. In case something happens, like Jenny slipping in the shower, right?" I blinked playfully, giving him a knowing look.
Brad’s eyes narrowed, and he stared at me for a few seconds, realizing I was dead set on going with him. He pursed his lips, said nothing, and pulled me out of bed to get dressed.
Jenny’s room was on the ninth floor, ours on the twelfth. Dressing and waiting for the elevator took less than ten minutes, and we were on the ninth floor.
A tall guy opened the door for us. Seeing me behind Brad, he looked surprised and a bit troubled.
My heart sank; something was definitely up.
Brad wasn’t happy with the tall guy’s rudeness towards me, his expression turning cold. Seeing Brad’s icy face, the guy nodded politely and stepped aside to let us in.
Brad held my hand as we entered the room, asking the tall guy, "What happened?"
"Mr. Pitt, Miss Jenny suddenly felt unwell. We tried everything, but nothing worked, so we had to call you."
"It's okay. Where is she unwell? Is it her right leg again?"
I caught the key point.
So, Jenny had used her right leg as an excuse to call Brad late at night before!
"No. Miss Jenny slipped after her bath, the wheelchair wheel got stuck, and she fell, injuring her left leg. It's very painful."
I guessed right; it was related to the bath.
Is this a common trick women use to seduce men? In most novels I’ve read, the female antagonists almost always slip in the bathroom, with the same intention: to seduce the guy.
Which guy in the world could truly stay unmoved when a hot-bodied beauty, with tears in her eyes, looked at him?
If such a guy existed, there must be something seriously wrong with him.
I scoffed, the sound startling Brad, who was walking ahead. His back stiffened, and he stopped, asking the tall guy, "Is she seriously hurt? Does she need to go to the hospital?"
"Mr. Pitt, you should check and decide. It's hard to say."
Jenny’s room was the innermost master bedroom, the door half-open. The light inside was dim, revealing nothing.
The tall guy led Brad to the master bedroom door, pushed it open, and let Brad in. When I stepped forward to follow, he reached out to stop me.
"Please stay here, ma’am."
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