“You kissed someone? Who?” he asks, his voice strained as if he just ran a marathon. “Someone at the club,” I admit. “Are you serious?” he breathes. And when I nod, he explodes. “What the—what the actual fuck, Tessa? You kiss some guy at a fucking club, then have sex with me? Who are you?” He runs his hands over his face. If I know him as well as I think I do, he’s getting ready to break something. “It just happened, and we aren’t even together.” I try to defend myself, but only make myself sound worse. “Wow… you are unbelievable. My Tessa would never kiss a fucking stranger at a club!” he
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?????????????????? Literally then how can you be mad
