“Of all the things you do, why did you stick with that one? You are always so flighty, why not now?”
Seriously? I’m flighty?My anger boiled over. “What is your problem? You’ve always been a jerk about Instagram, and I don’t understand it. It doesn’t do any harm, so just leave it be. Stop hating on Instagram.”
“I don’t hate Instagram. I am on it, after all.” Alex crossed his arms, his voice raising to match mine.
“Ah, yes, I remember the first time you commented on one of Ion’s posts. You said, ‘Looks like someone’s having fun.’” I put it in mocking air quotes with my fingers. “Could you have been more condescending?” It was a photo of Ion doing shots with some of his mates from a photo shoot, but still.
“Even if I was condescending, your prick of an ex deserved it.” The vehemence with which the words came out of Alex’s mouth shocked me.
“What did he ever do to you? He’s fine…” I waffled, truly puzzled. “A bit of a party animal, but fine.”
“That’s exactly what it was. He’s a bit wild. A bit fine.” Alex ran a hand through his hair, and pushing off the bed, paced the length of the room. “You shouldn’t have been with a guy like him. You weren’t a good match.”
“Okay.” I blinked. “Desperately trying not to take offense on that.”
Alex rolled his eyes.
“For fuck’s sake, Alex, he was a model. Come on!”
On the path outside our tent, someone coughed. Ah, well, at least with the yelling, no one needed to worry about animals wandering through the campsite.
Alex’s eyes darted toward the tent entrance, and he took a deep breath. “That’s not what I meant, Nikki. It was the other way around. He wasn’t good enough for you.”
I scoffed. “Sure, that’s really believable coming from you.”
“I’m serious. You deserve a guy so much better than that.” He was on the move again, arms gesturing. “No one’s good enough for you.”
“No one?” I asked, watching in fascination as he turned and paced back.
“No one, literally. Maybe if Michelangelo’s David came to life and he was a volunteer doctor solving the maternal mortality crisis in Sierra Leone and he farted lilacs and his cum tasted like … like treacle and, of course, his cock would be huge…” He trailed off and turned to me, completely bewildered at my reaction.
I had giggled at “farts” because, well, I might be a little juvenile. But by the end of his speech, I’d bent over laughing. His face was flushed, and he looked at me for a moment before slouching down onto the edge of the bed.
“What are you on about?” I asked between fits.
“Your perfect man.”
“Doesn’t sound like the perfect man to me. Sounds like he’s got a stick up his arse.” I wiped a tear away from my eye. For a day that had clearly ticked Alex off, I’d found most of it hilarious. “He farts lilacs?”
Alex's expression turned sheepish. “That's what every woman wants, right?”
He waited patiently while I got myself under control.
“I guess,” he said, “that I was never keen on Ion, and perhaps I wasn’t the nicest person to him.”
My lips were still tipped up in a smile. “No, you weren’t.”
“Nor you, I suppose. I was a bit of a twat.”
My smile fell, and I studied Alex. He was serious, now, honest. He meant it, but there was something there, too, that still burned.
Jealousy.
Alex was still jealous of Ion, even though we’d broken up months ago, even if he hadn’t been right for me.
“What about you?” The question burst out of me.
He cocked his head at me. “What do you mean?”
