Page 98 of Undone By The Mountain Daddies

And gasp when he picks up on the first ring.

He only did that a couple of times when we first started dating. Two months in, his phone started going to voicemail.

“Holden Quinn Gray.”

“Please don’t use my middle name. You know I hate that,” sighs Holden.

“I could call you my bitch if I wanted to.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Are you in love with me still or something?”

“What? No. Sienna⁠—”

“Don’t lie.” I curl my legs up onto the mattress, leaning back. This will be fun. “I have seven messages from you. Yes, that’s right. Seven. Three away from ten.”

“Sienna.” I can tell he’s getting frustrated. “What the hell is going on with you?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“These men you’re with—are they drugging you?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to elaborate.”

“Weed? Cocaine? Mushrooms? Please don’t tell me they’re⁠—”

“Fucking me better than you ever did? That’s right.” I finish the rest of the glass and manage to set it down on the nightstand successfully without dropping it to the floor. “They’re drugging me. That’s for sure. Injecting me with the biggest⁠—”

“That’s enough.” He’s not impressed.

But I wouldn’t be either if my ex was telling me she’d found a new guy—or multiple guys—with bigger dicks.

“I’m concerned about you. This isn’t you, Sienna,” sighs Holden again. “I mean, is it true what they’re saying—you’re doing group… stuff?”

“Yep. What do you think about that, huh?” I smirk into my phone.

“Disappointed, if I’m honest.”

“You? Honest?” I snort. “You’re the most dishonest person I’ve met in my whole entire life. You remember that director we had for the remake of Jane Eyre? He lied and said we’d be on set for two hours, but we ended up being there for twelve?”

“You mean the guy with the bowl cut?”

“Yes. That guy. You’re more dishonest than him,” I spit out.

“You’re drunk. The nutritionist I found for you won’t be very happy to hear that you’ve been drinking like a fish,” says Holden. “You know what? I take it back. I’m not disappointed. I’m extremely disappointed.”

“Hit me with your best shot,” I say, on the verge of bursting into song. “Why are you disappointed? We broke up years ago. You’re engaged now. Stop leaving me all of these messages and acting like you care. We’re done.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“E-N-G-A-G-E-D, Holden. That’s what you are.”

“I’m surprised you can still spell right now.”

“Whatever. Why are you on the phone with me, going on about how much of a disappointment I am instead of kissing Vanessa goodnight?"

“Valentina,” he corrects.