Paul laughed along with her prior to disappearing into his bedroom, then bathroom..  “You’re right, Charlette,” he chirped.  “I don’t mind.”<br/><br/>Later, it was amazing what a hot shower was capable of accomplishing.  Refreshed and rejuvenated, Paul camped out on his bed for the time being.  He would check that text and then see what Charlette was up to.  She had to have finished her shower, too, as he didn’t hear any running water coming from the main bathroom.<br/><br/>Well, that’s just fucking great, Paul bitterly thought, as he opened the message.  It was from Jemma, his ex-girlfriend.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><i>Note to readers: <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4dffff">Blue text = Jemma;</span> <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">Orange text = Paul</span></i>​</div><br/><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4dffff">So who’s the bimbo?</span></i><br/><br/>Shit, that was so typical of her, Paul thought.  No hello.  No how are you doing.  Just a straight-up insult.  And she was insulting someone she didn’t even know.  Jemma didn’t know it (would never know it, really), but she actually did him a favor by cheating on him, thus ending their relationship.  Because there was no way he’d want any part of her if she was unable or unwilling to stay true.  As the saying went: Just when you think you know someone.  He decided to be coy, while also hoping she wasn’t near her phone so he didn’t have to deal with her BS right now.<br/><br/><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">Who?</span></i><br/><br/>Damn!  No such luck.<br/><br/><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4dffff">You know very well who.  Dark-brown hair, flaunting her tits and ass.  Grinding all over you at Mama’s like she was in heat.</span></i><br/><br/><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">So now you’re spying on me?</span></i><br/><br/><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4dffff">I just so happened to be there for pizza and drinks with friends.  And then your little stripper goes wild on the dance floor.</span></i><br/><br/>Stripper?  Huh?  Did I miss something? Paul wondered.<br/><br/><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">What, you jealous?</span></i><br/><br/><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4dffff">You wish!  You fucking her yet?</span></i><br/><br/><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">Whether I am or not is really none of your bidness.  And besides, even if I was, at least I’m not in a relationship at the same time.</span></i><br/><br/>Ha!  Take that!  That should sting for a bit.  Needless to say, Paul was rather pleased with himself.<br/><br/><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4dffff">That’s not fair!</span></i><br/><br/><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">Maybe not, but it’s the truth and it is what it is.  And anyway, where’s your delivery boy?</span></i><br/><br/><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4dffff">He’s not a delivery boy!  He’s a pilot!</span></i><br/><br/><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">He delivers packages, right?</span></i><br/><br/><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4dffff">He flies for UPS!!!</span></i><br/><br/><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">I know, same thing.</span></i><br/><br/>As if the texting gods were smiling down on him, Paul heard a definite knock on the front door.  Shit!  Could that be her?!  No way would she come by unannounced.<br/><br/><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">Look, as much as I’d love to continue this conversation, I gotta go.  Dinner needs attending to.</span> </i>So that was a lie.  Big deal.<br/><br/><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4dffff">Gonna go fuck your little stripper now?</span></i><br/><br/><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff8000">Nah, reckon I fucked you; I’d make love to her.</span></i><br/><br/>Ouch!  Damn, he was on a fuckin’ roll today!<br/><br/>Removing himself from the bed, Paul tossed the phone where he was just lying.  He had no idea who’d be knocking on his door right now.  Casually dressed in a<i>Rage Against The Machine </i>t-shirt and sweatpants, he entered the living room to see Charlette and some guy standing by the door.  This had to be Dave, he thought, if her pained expression and the flowers were anything to go by.