“Some of them do, but I don’t. I’m selective about who I fuck around with. I also don’t like getting my feelings hurt.”
“No one does.”
“I’d much rather be the heartbreaker than the heartbroken.”
“So you want to be the one who causes heartbreak?”
“God, yes. Let someone cry over mefor a change. I’ve cried enough over other people to last me a lifetime.”
I laughed. “You’re twenty-one years old! You don’t even know what real heartbreak is.”
“Yes, I do, Matthew,” he said, resting his head against my chest. “Yes, I do.”
I was about to ask Ryan to tell me about the crushing heartache he’d experienced when his cell phone rang. He climbed out of bed and searched the floor for his discarded clothing. He pulled the phone from the back pocket of his jeans and sighed as he viewed the screen.
He answered with an exasperated “What?” Whoever was on the other line said something that prompted him to say, “I’m fine. I’m busy. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Stop worrying. Bye.”