Page 47 of Off Script

“Neither is you screwing every woman you come across,” Jada shot back.

“Where are you getting this idea that I’m out seducing every girl I meet?”

“Tristan, get real, that’s your MO.”

Tristan rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling a prickling headache coming on. Jada seemed determined to believe in some warped, malicious version of him that she had in her mind—the playboy who’d hooked up with both Erica and Angela. This version of Tristan also, apparently, could be confused with Daniel Kane. For him, Jada’s demands for fidelity were outweighed by her owing him a real explanation.

“May I remind you that your MO was agreeing to this arrangement—of your own free will?”

Jada shut down at this part, wrapping her arms around herself. “Fine. I did agree to the whole fake dating thing, but that doesn’t make your ambivalence toward real-life cheating okay.”

“I won’t,” he finally admitted. “I talked it over with Doug. I think we can all agree that me being spotted hooking up with someone else would expose our relationship as a fake.”

Deep down, Tristan had known that all along, but the way Jada had laid into him about it—without even hearing his side or thoughts—had caught him off guard. He’d gotten flashbacks to every other jealous woman he’d ever dated and so he’d gone on the defensive instead. Doug sure as hell had cleared that up when they’d “talked it over.” He’d berated Tristan about how big a risk sleeping with someone else would be. Doug’s shrill words still rang in his head:What part of fake—yet committed—relationshipdidn’t you understand?Pushing Doug’s admonishments to the back of his mind, he noticed Jada’s relieved expression.

“Thank you,” she said.

Finally relenting, she moved aside, letting him enter her home. He made sure he was fully inside, with her closing the door behind him, before he launched into his next bit.

“But that doesn’t excuse what you did,” he challenged her.

“What I did?” She gaped at him.

“Yes. You—” Tristan’s reproach died on his lips as he looked behind Jada and spotted a cutout of Tim Curry in a corset. “What in the world . . .”

Following his gaze, Jada raised a warning finger. “Watch it, buddy.The Rocky Horror Picture Showis sacred in this house.”

Deciding he would worry about Jada’s questionable decorating later, Tristan leaped back to their previous argument. “Okay, whatever. But taking your angry insecurities out on me inpublicis what will really screw this whole thing up. You need to learn to keep your temper in check.”

“This, coming from the man who exploded on me when his indiscretions came to light.”

“I apologized for that. Honestly, the way you hold a grudge is—”

“Ahem.” Mikayla cleared her throat as she appeared in the entryway. “Hello, Tristan. I know you two lovebirds tend to have very passionate interactions, but unless you want our neighbors knowing all your personal business, I suggest you two keep it down.”

“Sorry,” Tristan muttered. Between Jada’s attitude and Mikayla’s admonishments, he felt properly chastised. But why? Why was he the one always apologizing? Especially when Jada was half the reason for his outbursts. Tristan glanced at Tim Curry’s cardboard (yet perceptive) eyes as if the actor could hear his plea and back him up somehow.

“Fine. Let’s talk about this in the living room.” Jada motioned him to their couch but halted as Mikayla followed them.

“Alone,” she clarified for her cousin.

Mikayla let out a sigh then headed back to the kitchen, mumbling about missing the show. Regardless of her grumblings, she’d surely be listening in from afar. When he and Jada were seated on the couch, at last, Tristan swore he would remain cool and collected. He would not raise his voice or get angry. He would stay rational, no matter how much this woman drove him insane.

“Look, I know neither one of us wants to be in this situation, but we are. We struck a deal, we said we’d compromise, so can wedothat?” he said as calmly as he could. Jada wrinkled her nose, then sighed in resignation.

“You’re right. I know you’re right, it’s just . . . the whole thing is still weird to me. Pretending we like each other—when we can’t even stand each other—and acting like we’re a couple when I don’t even really know you.”

“Get to know me,” Tristan said simply.

“Get to know you how?” she asked.

“We could go old school and play Truth or Dare.” At her skeptical expression, Tristan went on. “Or Never Have I Ever?”

Jada wrinkled her nose in distaste. “I think we’re playing enough games as it is, don’t you?”

“Fine. Then tonight, I will let you ask me three questions. You get three chances to quiz me on whatever you feel you need to know.”

The second the words were out of his mouth, Tristan remembered their dinner date. Knowing Jada, she’d jump on the mom front again. “Although I get veto power!”

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