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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

DECKER

“Decker, wait.” Lena’s dress rustles as she rushes to catch up with me in the dark wings of the stage. “Wait!”

My heart beats double time as I hesitate, expecting to hear her confess that she’s finally come to her senses and told her mom to screw off, but all she says is, “Here’s your phone.”

I take it from her, and once again start on my path to anywhere but here.

“Why are you so mad?” she asks, jogging to catch up.

“That wasn’t exactly the reaction I was hoping for,” I say as I trail ahead of her numbly, still trying to process the last five minutes.

Her sharp brows crinkle. “You’re angry because I’m keeping up my end of the bargain and making sure we’re seen together publicly—like it states in our contract?”

I stop under an exit sign dangling overhead. “I kissed you. I told you I love you, and all you could think about was work and your mom. Do you understand how messed up that is?”

“I just feel like the whole kiss thing was great practice, but we need to get that stuff on camera or it doesn’t count.” She shifts uncomfortably. “I’m only looking out for our best interest.”

“Are you? Do you hear yourself?” My laugh startles even me as it tears from my throat, my feet rooting in place. “Lena, even you don’t sound convinced.”

She stops for a moment, her piercing blue eyes hardening as they lock on me. “Tonight is our last night to sell this illusion, Decker. You can't tell me you're in love with me right now."

My face collapses in confusion. “Why not, Lena? I meant it. I love you.”

“It’s understandable there’s a little bit of attraction between us. We’ve spent so much time together, but that doesn't mean it's love. We just got a little carried away and?—”

"You're the one that hauled me into a random dark room, Lena. What's your game?"

She bites her soft lip, and the memory of her taste floods my senses. “I’m not playing any games. Maybe I just thought we should get it out of our systems.”

“I don’t want you out of my system, Lena.

” It sounded better in my head than it does strung along the tension thickening the air.

Clearing my throat, I lower my voice and close the divide, wanting nothing more than to remind her of the electricity that coursed between us until now.

“If that’s what you thought, then why can’t we just carry on like we were back in that room?—”

“Stick to the plan, Decker.”

“Why? What’s the point? You can’t tell me you don’t feel anything for me, Lena. I’m not buying any of your excuses.”

She inhales deeply, and for a moment, I think she might admit that I’m not the only one feeling this undeniable desire.

“Plans change,” I add softly, praying to convince her it’s true, but she only doubles down with a shake of her pretty head.

“Our deal is over. We’re over,” she says firmly, that unbearable fake smile sliding too easily onto her lips. “Let’s just act like the whole dark room kiss thing never happened, okay? It was the champagne and the adrenaline from not seeing each other after tonight and?—”

“I don’t want to break up,” I blurt.

She tosses a dark curl over her shoulder and steps closer. I melt into her palm as she swipes something from around my mouth and wipes it on her thigh. Her lipstick. “Let’s just go freshen up and we’ll talk about this after, okay?”

She grabs my arm, but I pull free, straightening my jacket as I follow behind. She keeps moving down the empty hall until we’re far from backstage, and sconces are lighting our path instead of those dang emergency lights.

“There’s no way you don’t feel this too,” I say as confidently as possible.

She spares a glance over her shoulder. Hope builds as her scowl softens, and I slow my pace, desperate for her to meet me in the middle.

Instead of stopping, she faces forward, doubling down. “There’s that cocky oaf I know. I knew the charming, modest guy from the podium wouldn’t stick around long.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes as I hoof it to catch up. “Come on, we both know you don’t mean that.”

Something gentler stirs in her gaze, and then it ices over. “Anyone can give time and money, Decker. Don’t think you're special because you got to talk about it behind a microphone. I know your type.”

“Stop pushing me away.”

“I’m not.” She picks up speed as though she can lose me, but her legs are too short and her heels too high.

“It’s like you’re addicted to being miserable.”

“I don’t have time for this.”

“You don’t always have to settle for being the sad girl.” It’s a desperate attempt for her to say something—anything—that I can work with, but the wounded breath she draws in signals that I’ve taken it too far.

“You really are intolerable.” Her eyes turn colder than I thought possible. A tired sigh seeps from her lips. “Let’s just finish out tonight and announce online we’re going our separate ways tomorrow after the first articles about the event are posted.”

“I forgot how calculated this all is.”

She presses on like I never spoke. “I’ve already made the post and saved it to my drafts. I can make one for you too and text it over tomorrow morning.”

Her announcement bites into me, gnashing at my heart, my disbelief stunning me into silence. She premade our breakup announcement. The confession is like squeezing lemon into the papercut her insult created. How did we get here from what we shared mere minutes ago?

I want to regret what I said, I know pulling the sad card is a low blow, but it’s hard when she sounds so callous.

I know she isn’t the sad girl everyone gossips about, I just don’t know if she realizes it.

She’s vibrant and sassy and lovable and everything I never knew I needed, and I wish she could finally see that.

I arch my brow in a playful challenge she doesn’t take.

“Why are you doing this?” I hate how pathetic I sound. “What happened to making your own decisions?”

She steps closer. “I am, Decker. I’m being realistic, and realistically, we can’t work.

Between our schedules, our differences, and…

and everything else. It’s not real. This isn’t real.

” Her eyes narrow, and I swear I see her lips wobble.

“We both did our part. We aren’t obligated to stay together. It’s done.”

My jaw hangs open, all air and words leaving me.

Her blue eyes scan my face before she turns away. “Wait here. Let me check my makeup, and when I get back we can finish out the contract.” She turns and disappears, her heels echoing on the ancient tile floor.

For a moment, I obey. I stand with my hands in my pockets, waiting for her, too dumbstruck to move.

And then I feel foolish. Sure, maybe she only wants to be my business partner, but I did my time.

We both got what we wanted, so why drag this out?

I was stupid to think that picking her up and bringing flowers for some fabricated prom was enough to win her over.

That’s the bare minimum, the lowest bar.

Lena deserves so much more. The fact I convinced myself that my gesture, along with my love confession, would be enough to keep her around was asinine.

Maybe she’s right. Maybe I am delusional.

I pace for a moment, weighing my options, but humiliation wins out.

What’s done is done. She said it herself.

We’re over.