Mate me at Hollywood
she begins cautiously.
A gravelly, laughing voice breaks in. "Were you waiting by the phone for me to call, lil' mama?"
"I wa-was n," Lena stutters, suddenly tripping over words.
I cut in, "Roman Sinclair. I see you're still talking like a wannabe Jay-Z."
"Oh, shit!" Roman exclaims, half-excited, half-laughing. "Leo buddy, is that you? You're dating my used trash again."
"Shut the fuck up, Roman," I hurl.