“I mean, yeah, but surely he wouldn’t?”
“Men do really stupid things, Tate. Look what he did in the first place.”
“Yeah,” she agrees reluctantly. “Those photos of the two of you at the beach sure looked cozy.”
“Photos?” I bark.
“Yeah, on Instagram. I didn’t know you had it in you, Kian. That was pretty romantic.”
“Shit,” I hiss.
“Oh, come off it. You’re not that naive.”
“If we were in Chicago, I’d expect it. But we were in a different state.”
“People still know who you are. You’re always going to be a target, which makes her a target. You know this.”
“Yes, all right,” I mutter, already feeling like a big enough asshole over this without her chipping in. “I’m going to fix it.”
“Then I guess you need to find the asshole and give him another black eye.”
“Tate,” I gasp.
“What? I’m hangry. Your brother was meant to be home with takeout almost an hour ago. Never make a pregnant woman wait for food, Kian. Never.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” I mutter.
“What do you need me to do? If you have food, I can come over. Oh, I could pick some up on the way and?—”
“What hair products does Lorelei use?”
“What?”
“What hair products does Lorelei use?” I repeat.
“Wha—why?”
“Because the asshole destroyed them all.”
“He what?” she shrieks, sounding almost as horrified as Lorelei looked when she made the discovery. “You know, that’s a little like asking me the secret to world peace.”
“It’s just shampoo,” I argue.
“Do yourself a favor, Kian. Never, and I mean never, say that to Lorelei.”
I shake my head. I’m really fucking missing something here. “Do you have the names or not?”
“It’s not that simple. I’ll order some things for you, but I can’t promise they’ll all be right. I haven’t lived with her for a few months. She could have moved on from what I remember.”
Moved on? From shampoo?
Fucking hell, I don’t understand women at all.
“Please can you get it here like?—”
“Soon? Leave it to me. In the meantime…can we talk more about that romantic beach date?”
“No, we cannot. I need to go and check on your best friend. Talk soon, Ta?—”