Page 7
INDIE
Morosis: (n.) the stupidest of stupidities
W ait.
I must be either delirious or someone slipped some type of hallucinogenic into my food, and I was tripping or crashing or something.
Did Theo, the boy who broke my heart and treated me like a little kid when I needed him the most, just ask me to fake date him?
His crystal blue eyes bore into mine, their depths trapping me for a moment, then I threw back my head and laughed.
“Very funny, Theo.” I rolled my eyes, which only seemed to ignite the ire in his expression as I continued.
“If I was going to fake date anyone, it would be Killian. Could you imagine? Killer and I?” I hummed, egging him on.
I played with fire, and I knew it, but fuck, he deserved it.
A low rumble emanated from him, and a shiver tingled along my spine at the primal noise, thighs clenched.
I narrowed my gaze at him. “Did you just growl?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he ignored my question.
Instead, he said, “If you don’t want to do it for me, do it for Travis.
He hasn’t had the best life the last year, and if I can make sure he never has to worry about anything ever again, I will.
And that means,” he let out a sigh, “sponsorships and endorsements. My agent is battling my…shortcomings, and it’s gotten better-”
I snorted.
“-but a few misconstrued incidents that went viral-”
“Ah, the boob signing?” I smirked as he glowered at me.
“-mean I need a little extra-”
“A lot , really.”
“-image-”
“Is it just an image problem? Because you can be a dick , too. That’s reality.”
The afternoon lunch crowd filled the restaurant, and for a moment only the buzz of conversations met my ear as we glared at one another. He clenched his jaw, and ground his teeth. “Fake date me, and I’ll do whatever you need for Book Boyfriends.”
I crossed my arms over my chest as I scrutinized him.
The boy I had a crush on for as long as I could remember.
The same boy who never let me down whenever I needed him.
Until the one time I needed him the most, and he walked away.
Breaking my heart so badly that I no longer trusted him or even liked him any longer.
The only thing I felt when I looked at him was the urge to annoy and make him see how much I hated him.
But, Nia and I were barely in the black, which wasn’t an issue as far as she was concerned, to a point, because of her inheritance, but I felt like a burden to her.
Which was why I worked tirelessly at Book Boyfriends & Lattes, day and night.
It was important that I pull my weight and contribute to the bookstore, in any way I could.
If romance readers loved anything, it was book boyfriends.
Especially hockey boys who looked like Theo, and most of the guys on the Triumph.
If pretending to date Theo for a few months meant more readers buying books because of his silly PR stunts on his social media, then I could suck it up.
It wasn’t like I didn’t spend time at his house with Travis anyway.
Or take Trav on playdates when I wasn’t at the bookstore.
“Anything?” I asked, an idea or five popping into my head. He nodded, still all clenched and looking like he needed a stiff drink.
“Within reason,” he amended.
“Oh, no way. If I have to pretend to like you and,” I sighed and rolled my eyes, “date you, then I need a hell of a lot in return.”
He mirrored my crossed arm. “Fine. Make a list, and we’ll negotiate.”
“Oooh, like a contract?” There was that tick again. Ooh, I rather liked making him agitated. Fuck that. I loved it. I pouted, and tapped my chin with one finger. “Oh, is the big bad hockey player afraid of what little ol’ me will ask for?”
For a second, I thought he was going to reach across the table and throttle me.
But, then the asshole leaned back, a smug smirk lifting one side of his mouth and said, “Oh, little girl,” I bristled at the endearment and thought about kicking in the nuts for good measure under the table.
“You should be careful of what you ask for, because if we’re ‘dating’,” he murmured in a low tone, “my demands will be very, very specific.” He propped his elbows on the table and leaned forward, eyes dark and full of promise, daring me to react.
It was a gauntlet thrown, by whom, I lost track at this point, but something in me refused to back down. I leaned in, mirroring his pose. Arms crossed. His eyes darted to my cleavage and I smirked. “Fine. We’ll exchange demands tonight. By email.”
An arched brow. “Why wait?”
I motioned for our server to box up my lunch, and added a dessert to go. Only then did I respond. “Because I like the idea of you wondering what my demands are going to be, Theo. You need to learn a little patience. I’ve had six years to contemplate my revenge. A few more hours won’t hurt.”
Dark eyes tracked me as I searched my purse for my dark red lipstick, and I refused to spare him a glance as I reapplied it. “Oh, I have all the patience in the world. And I love the idea of having you pretend you want me, little girl.”
Something simmered low in my belly as I weighed his words, and passed it off as my hatred for what he had done to my feelings for him when he left me alone.
When the server set down my take-out boxes in front of me, I stood, and shot him a grin as I scooped it all up.
“Thank you for lunch and dessert, Theo. I’ll enjoy it tonight as I think of all the things you’ll owe me for helping you.
” Not bothering to wait for him to respond, I spun on my heel, tossed my hair, and left behind to wonder.
And pretended I didn’t care what he’d ask for in the least.
On the way home, I kept eyeing the boxes, the aroma of the Indian fusion filling my car.
Part of me wanted to toss it before I walked out of the restaurant so he could see my disdain.
But another part, the part I wasn’t sure how to deal with, wanted him to see me take it with me Instead of eating in front of him.
To imagine the way I ate the dessert. Finished off every bite over the next few days.
Because of course, I over-ordered on purpose.
Originally planning on eating all of it while he explained whatever it was he wanted to talk about with me.
But then he dropped the whole ‘fake dating’ bomb, and threw me off my game.
The house was quiet when I entered, like always. Sometimes, the quiet comforted me, but most times, I had to stop myself from checking every room to make sure all the windows were still locked, the alarm still armed, and no one was going to jump out from the shadows.
Ever since that night in college, I checked my surroundings, especially at home in my apartment.
The alarm system, the windows…at first, I even looked in the bathroom and under my bed.
The closet. And every time, even though the coast was clear, my heart pounded a little louder for a few minutes afterward.
The silliest thing was, sometimes I wished I could call Theo, just like I had when I was younger, but then I remembered his words and the way he walked away.
The rage helped, calmed me, and strengthened my resolve to not let myself ever be the victim again.
I didn’t need Theo or anyone else to come to my rescue.
The victim became a survivor.
And never looked back.
EDEN: He WHAT?
INDIE: You can’t say a word. Even to Cole.
EDEN: Cole knows things, Indie. He always finds out. Remember when I tried to surprise him for Christmas?
Eden planned a getaway at a kinky AirBnB in the middle of the woods for Christmas since they both shared a primal kink, and had a kinky predator/prey meet cute.
But, Cole found out, and made sure the place was legit, even to the point of threatening the owners if anyone found out where they were for the weekend.
Poor Eden walked funny for a week after, wearing a dreamy grin the entire time. Sigh. And there I was, solo entertainment, jealous and happy for my friend at the same time. Sometimes it sucked having everyone around you fall in love while you kinda nannied for the person you hated.
No, fuck that. It did suck. A lot. Because I couldn’t remember the last time I had an orgasm with another person assisting. Even longer if we were counting a decent one.
INDIE: Maybe he’s psychic? But, if he knows, he can’t tell anyone. And you have to keep it from Noah. For real. No bff chat tea. Understood.
EDEN: Fine. But seriously, FAKE DATING?
INDIE: Emphasis on the FAKE
EDEN: …
INDIE: I hate him, E
EDEN: HATE SEX.
INDIE: EW!! And he didn’t want me, remember?
The dots jump as Eden types and deletes, which is not like her. In the slightest. It’s my favorite thing about Eden. She has a way of saying what’s on her mind that you need to hear, but…gently.
INDIE: EDEN. Just say it.
EDEN: …
EDEN: The test.
Shit. I knew she would bring that up
INDIE: I am NOT a brat, Eden.
EDEN: It’s not a brAT. You have brat tendencies. Kinda. It’s an emotional connection thing for you.
I snorted.
INDIE: If you mean emotionally seeing how I can make him realize how much I hate him, then yes.
EDEN: (EYE ROLL EMOJI)
EDEN: Imagine the way he’d break and finally push up against a wall and do all kinds of delicious things because…he wanted to tame you.
INDIE: I think you need to stay out of the dark romance section
EDEN: Are you denying the image isn’t getting you all hot and bothered?
EDEN: It’s Cole. Eden is going to be busy for the next few hours.
INDIE: Have fun you two crazy kids…