My heart ached for him and how much his life had changed since the passing of his mother.
“Did your parents ask about me?” he asked with a cocky grin, not so subtly changing the topic.
I tried not to smile but failed. “You know they did.”
“And?”
“They just wanted to know if I was still dating Waterford’s famous linebacker.” I dramatically rolled my eyes.
He laughed.
This was it. This was the opening I needed to broach our fake dating arrangement. Despite knowing that the break-up would happen eventually, it didn’t stop my heart from speeding up and my palms from getting sweaty.
“Speaking of us dating,” I said slowly. “I’ve really appreciated the time and dedication you’ve put into acting as my boyfriend and keeping me from complete embarrassment.” I paused, not able to look at him. “And as we previously talked about, I think it’s now time for our arrangement to come to an end.”
There. I did it. Just ripped it off like a Band-Aid.
His brows rose. “The time and dedication? I feel like I’m being let go from a job.”
Well, he kind of was. I hadn’t meant for it to sound harsh or unfeeling, but I was also trying to stay aloof. I had to keep my true feelings out of this.
I tucked my feet underneath me. “We mentioned staying together for two months, and we’ve done that, which is more than enough to prove we were a real couple. It’s time to end our charade and move on. You can go back to your lifestyle, and I can keep my options open and have a real relationship with someone.”
He leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs, looking down at his clasped hands. “A real relationship,” he repeated, his voice low. “Does this mean you already have someone in mind? Have I been in the way?”
His questions caught me off guard. I figured he’d be happy about ending our fake relationship so he could resume his womanizing behavior, but the look on his face looked anything but happy.
“Uh, no. Not really,” I stammered.
I definitely hadn’t planned on telling Slate about Josh. I knew he wouldn’t be a fan of me giving Josh another chance.
His head snapped up, his eyes locking on mine. “Not really?”
I squirmed under his gaze. He knew I was keeping something from him. This was the first time I didn’t like how we had gotten to know each other so well so fast.
I let out a heavy sigh. “Josh stopped by my house yesterday before I came back here.”
He stood up so fast, I jerked back against the couch. Both of his hands were running through his hair as he walked away from me to the other side of the living room.
“Josh?” he yelled, turning back to me. “You’ve got to be shitting me. You can’t seriously be thinking about getting back together with him?”
Anger bubbled up inside me. How dare he judge me? He had no idea what it was like to be in a relationship with someone—or the history Josh and I had.
“And what if I am?” I challenged.
He ran his hands through his hair again, his biceps flexing as he brought his arms up. He shook his head. “You can’t get back with him.”
I stood, not able to sit any longer. “Who are you to tell me who I can and cannot be with?”
“Your friend,” he exclaimed. “I refuse to sit by and watch you waste your time on some piece of shit who doesn’t deserve you.”
I shook my head. “He said he’d change. That he realized his mistakes. That he regrets how he treated me,” I argued. “He wants a second chance, and I’m willing to give him one.”
A flabbergasted look was plain on his face. “And you’re going to believe him so easily? Isla, he’s a selfish prick who only cares about himself.”
I crossed my arms under my chest. “You don’t believe people can change?”
“Not people like Josh.”
