The Revelation (4 page)

Her eyes are wide.

The bell dings on the private elevator behind Kat’s
back. The doors open and then close—but, thankfully, Kat doesn’t
move from her spot in the hallway.

What the fuck happened to the woman who wrote me
that awesome ‘application’ to the ‘Josh Faraday Club’? The woman
who felt crushed when some asshole called her a slut and said she
wasn’t ‘marriage material’? Where’s the girl who admitted she has a
shitload of crazy-elaborate sexual fantasies, for fuck’s sake? I
thought my perverted shit would be right up her alley, I really
did. And where the fuck is the incredible girl who rode a Sybian
’til she squirted and literally passed out? Because I can’t imagine
that
girl reacting to my application with
tears
. I
run my hand through my hair. Shit. I feel like I’m reliving that
last, horrible, blindsiding conversation with Emma all over
again.

“Just please tell me why you’re crying,” I say,
trying to keep my voice from sounding panicked. “I truly thought
you’d understand about my application.”

“Josh,” Kat begins, but then she pauses.

My stomach twists with anticipation. Here it comes.
I brace myself.

“I haven’t read your application,” she says softly.
“You’ve misunderstood me.”

I close my eyes. Oh, how I wish I could stuff every
word I just said back into my stupid goddamned mouth. I open my
eyes. Shit.

“I started reading it, yes,” she continues. “But
then I called you when I got to the part about your three photos,
and then I saw your ‘Sick Fuck’ folder and—oh, yeah, bee tee dubs,
I permanently deleted that folder, sorry, I can be kind of
impulsive sometimes.” She takes a deep breath. “And then I went
into your email account to send myself that naked photo of you with
the gigantic boner—oh, and I also sent myself your application,
too, by the way—sorry if that pisses you off, but, whatever, I am
what I am—and, anyway, while I was in your email account, you got
an incoming email.” Her lip curls with unbridled disgust. “And
that’s
what I’m crying about, Josh: the freaking
email
.”

I can barely breathe. “What email?”

Her eyes water and she wipes them. “An email from
Jen—your blast from the past.”

The hair on my neck stands on end.

“And let me just say this,” Kat says, her voice
edged with barely contained rage. “If a woman is totally into you
and you keep stringing her along, even though you’re not into her,
then at some point you’re not a
playboy
, you’re just a
flat-out
prick
.”

“
What
?”

“Unless, of course, you
are
into her and
you’ve been peddling me a line of total bullshit this whole time—in
which case, you’re not just a
prick
, you’re also a flat-out
liar.
”

“What the
fuck
are you talking about, Kat?” I
ask, dumbfounded. “What did Jen say in her email?” I pull my phone
out from my pocket and frantically scroll through my inbox. And
there it is—an email from Jen. I quickly read it, doing my best to
see Jen’s message through Kat’s (batshit-crazy) eyes. “Oh, Jesus,”
I stammer. “No, no, no, Jen
completely
misunderstood me,” I
blurt. “I called to tell her I’m not interested in her—I swear to
God—that’s what I told her.”

“Well, Jen sure seems to think you called to
‘suggest’ something along the lines of you ‘motorboating’ her
‘pretty titties’—
again
.
”
Her nostrils flare. Her face
is bright red. She looks like a fucking fire-breathing dragon right
now.

Shit. I look at Jen’s email again, my heart racing.
“Kat, no. I didn’t suggest a fucking thing. I told Jen I wasn’t
interested in her. I said I’m not in the market for a
relationship.”

“Maybe you
think
that’s what you said to her,
but clearly you didn’t. Because she clearly thinks there’s still a
chance for
something
with you
,
Josh, and when it
comes to you, she’ll obviously take any little crumb she can get,
no matter how small and pitiful.”

“Well, shit. Hang on. Lemme read it again.”

“It makes me wonder if you’re ever completely honest
when it comes to women. Do you ever just tell it like it is? Or do
you always spin things to avoid hurt feelings—or maybe to keep your
motorboating-options open?”

“Hang the fuck on, Kat. Jesus fucking Christ, you
demon-woman, lemme fucking look at it.”

Kat presses her lips together and crosses her arms
over her chest, her eyes blazing. “I don’t mind a manwhore if he’s
honest about it—I really don’t—I mean, as long as he’s not running
around collecting baby-mommas or STD’s—
but I absolutely cannot
stomach a goddamned liar.
”

“Fuck, Kat. Would you shut the fuck up for a minute?
Jesus, you’re a fucking lunatic.” I look down at my phone and read
again while Kat silently fumes. “Okay, clearly there’s been a huge
misunderstanding,” I say when I’m done reading.

“Don’t forget to take a peek at the photos she sent
you, too,” Kat says. “They’re super-duper awesome.”

I’d be a fool to open those photos with Kat standing
right here, I know—but I do it, anyway. Why? Because, apparently,
I’m every bit the suicide-bomber she is.

I open the first photo. It’s Jen and her famous mom,
their cheeks pressed together.

“Yeah, so what?” I say. “Who cares if Jen’s mom
is—”

“Open the second photo, Josh.”

I roll my eyes and open the second photo. Oh. Wow.
Hello, Jen’s beautiful tits. Yeah, that woman’s got some gorgeous
tits, I must say. But so what? I look up at Kat, ready to tell her
she needs to take a chill-pill, and she’s absolutely seething with
jealousy. If she were a cartoon character, her skin would be green
and steam would be shooting out her ears.

I stifle a grin, remembering Kat’s sexy little
speech about how she never, ever gets jealous. The girl is all
talk. I open my mouth to speak, but before I can say a goddamned
word, Kat launches into me again.

“Do you always just tell women what they want to
hear, Josh? That’s what I wanna know. Which leads me to the
million-dollar question: Have you just been telling
me
what
I wanna hear?”

My urge to smile vanishes. I throw up my hands,
suddenly enraged. “Gimme a break, Kat. I’ve been one hundred
percent honest with you and you know it.”

“I’m not so sure. You keep telling me I’m ‘the most
beautiful woman you’ve ever been with’ and then I see you’ve been
with a freaking Victoria’s Secret ‘Angel.’”

“So?” I ask.

“So, then I know for a fact you’re just blowing
smoke up my butt.”

“Oh my God. You’re
pissed
I said you’re more
beautiful than a Victoria’s Secret supermodel?” I take a deep
breath, trying to control my rising anger. “Why are you doing this?
I haven’t given you shit about Cameron Schulz or any of the guys
you’ve slept with—and it sounds like there’s plenty to choose
from.”

Oh shit, I shouldn’t have added that last bit. Ooph.
The top of her head just popped off.

“Well, maybe you’d react differently if Cameron
emailed me a photo of his balls and asked me to ‘motorboat’ them!”
Her eyes bug out. “
Again
!” she shrieks.

I stifle the urge to laugh. She’s pretty funny right
now.

Kat’s still fuming. “And you wanna know the reason
why
Cameron’s not sending me goddamned dick-and-ball-pics?”
she continues. “
Because I was honest and clear with him about my
lack of interest.
”

“Oh, okay, sure, Kat—you’re so fucking
honest
all the time
.
Let’s talk about that cute little speech of
pure fiction you made about how you never, ever get jealous unless
you’re in a committed relationship. Hmm? What about that?” I scoff.
“So, okay, maybe I didn’t get my words exactly right when I talked
to Jen. But that was because I was trying to let her down easy. At
least I was trying to be
nice
.”

She clenches her jaw. “What does that mean? You
don’t think I’m nice?”

I pause. “No, I... I think you’re nice—really nice.
It’s just that...” Why do I keep feeling like I’m digging myself a
deeper hole? “It’s just that, you know, you’re a Scorpio,” I
say.

She looks at me blankly.

“God wouldn’t have designed you with a stinger on
your tail if he didn’t want you to use it on occasion, right?”

Her mouth is hanging open.

“But that’s okay. I like your stinger.” Oh boy. I’m
really not doing myself any favors here. Okay. Once again, the best
defense is a good offense. “Jesus Christ, Kat,” I say. “You’re just
like my fucking brother—physically perfect and you don’t even know
it. And you’re needy just like him, too.” I shake my head. “Kat,
you’re absolutely beautiful. I told you. I couldn’t have designed
you better myself. But you’re also insane, apparently. You’re
seriously driving me crazy.”

Her cheeks flush.

There’s a long beat.

“I’m not usually this crazy,” she says softly. She
twists her mouth. “Something happens to me when I get around you.”
She throws up her hands. “Look, I’m being an asshole—okay? I
realize that. I’m sorry.” She exhales and flaps her lips together.
“I tell you what. I’m gonna go downstairs and meet up with Henn and
do the photo thing for my Oksana passport, okay? And while I do
that, why don’t you stay here and write a reply to Jen. Whatever’s
the truth, just tell her, once and for all, as clearly as
possible.”

“I’m not interested in her, Kat, like I keep
saying.”

She bares her teeth. “Glad to hear it. And after I
do the photo thing with Henn,” she says, “I’m gonna sit my butt
down at a Blackjack table, drink some whiskey, and get control of
myself. I’m sorry I lost it—that email just really threw me for a
loop.”

“Why?” I ask. “I already told you I fucked Jen. And,
yeah, okay, I buried my face in her tits when I did it. So sue me.”
I grin. “She’s got some really nice tits.”

Kat presses her lips together.

“Kat, she means nothing to me, like I said. I only
called her because I told her I would when I ran back into the
party and practically ran her over trying to get your shoes and
purse.”

There’s a long beat.

“I don’t get why you’re reacting this way,” I
say.

Kat looks up at the ceiling and then back at me, her
face suddenly awash in emotion. “Just tell me right here and now,
once and for all: are you Garrett Bennetting me?” she blurts. Tears
suddenly flood her eyes and she wipes them.

“
That’s
what this is all about?”

She nods.

I roll my eyes. “
No
,” I say emphatically. “Of
course not. I shouldn’t even have to tell you that.”

She wipes her eyes again. “All those women, Josh.”
She looks up at the ceiling like she’s trying to keep tears from
spilling out of her eyes. “I don’t care if you’re a manwhore. It’s
just... you can have any woman you want—anyone at all. The daughter
of Gabrielle LeMonde—”

I scoff loudly, shutting her up.

“A Victoria’s Secret Angel.”

“A devil-woman with battery acid in her heart.”

Kat bites her lip, obviously trying to suppress a
smile. “Emma.”

“A woman who called me a sick fuck and then promptly
ran off with a dude who owns polo ponies and wears a fucking
ascot
.”

There’s a long beat. Kat’s eyes are unreadable to
me.

“I’m obviously way out of line here—just a total
head case,” she says. “I’m sorry.” She exhales loudly. “I’m gonna
go get a drink and play blackjack while you reply to Jen’s email.
She’s a twat and a half, don’t get me wrong, but even twats have
feelings, too, and she deserves an honest response. Lemme just go
downstairs and pull myself together for a bit, okay? I’m really
sorry I’m acting so crazy.”

She turns around to pound the elevator call-button,
her shoulders slumped.

Fuck this shit. I’m not in the mood to write an
email to
Jen
right now. There’s only one thing I want to do:
kiss my smokin’ hot Party Girl with a Hyphen.

I bound down the hallway to Kat, my cheeks on fire,
a massive lump in my throat, my dick rock hard. I grab her
shoulders, whirl her around to face me, and kiss the shit out of
her. “I’m not Garrett Bennetting you, Kat,” I mumble into her lips.
“I promise.”

Kat

My kiss with Josh has ramped up to
full-throttle-I-wanna-fuck-your-brains-out within seconds. Josh
breaks away from me, his blue eyes darkening with heat, slams my
body roughly into the wall, yanks my mini-skirt up, and pulls my
panties down.

I throw my head back, shaking with my arousal, and
it bangs sharply against the wall of the hallway. But even the pain
of whacking my head feels fucking awesome right now. I’m absolutely
hyperventilating with anticipation. “Josh,” I breathe, shoving my
hand into his open pants and grasping his erection. “I’m sorry. I’m
batshit crazy.”

“You really are.”

I laugh.

“I’m not like him, Kat,” he breathes. “I’d never do
that to you.”

“I know. I don’t know why I’m so crazy,” I say. “I’m
sorry.”

“It’s okay—apparently, I get off on crazy.”

He shoves his hand into his pocket frantically but
comes up with nothing but the key card to Jonas and Sarah’s suite.
He tries his other pocket and again comes up with nothing.
“
Fuck
,” he says. “I must have left the condom on the table
in the suite.”

“We don’t need it,” I gasp, grasping his erection
with authority. “I’m on the pill. I’m clean. Just fuck me.” I’m
writhing against the wall, crazed by my arousal.

Without another word, he slams me against the wall
like he’s mugging me and plunges himself into me with shocking
ferocity.

“You feel so fucking good,” he says, moving his hips
exactly the way he did on the dance floor the other night.