I couldn’t think about selling our ridiculous fake love story with the man I least wanted to share oxygen with right now. I needed to calm down before I did something stupid, like cut holes in the crotches of all his underwear.
My mouth kicked up on one side at the thought. Not a terrible idea actually. Maybe I’d start with his silk boxers. He definitely seemed like a silk-boxers kind of guy. Pretentious bastard.
The elevator doors slid open, and there stood my archnemesis, hands shoved casually in his pockets like he hadn’t just potentially torpedoed my life.
“Sunshine,” he cooed, his voice dripping with fake sweetness.
“Don’tSunshineme! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” I snapped.
“You can’t be seen talking to another guy,” Axel answered with the condescending tone of someone explaining basic math to a kindergartner.
“That’s not what this is, and you know it.”
“Isn’t it?” His eyebrow arched.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “There were a million ways to ask me to stop talking to Mathew. Discreet ways. You wanted to humiliate him.”
“And what if I did?” He shrugged like we were discussing a coffee preference instead of my love life.
“You probably ruined my shot at getting back together with Mathew.”
“You want to get back together with him?” Axel spewed.
Well, that’s not the point.
When I didn’t answer, his lips went thin, his fingers pulling out of his pockets and twitching at his sides like they were itching to punch something. Or someone. Preferably Mathew’s face, if I had to guess.
“Why in the world would you ever give that dickhead a second chance?”
“That’s not your concern.”
“I disagree.”
“You’re my fake fiancé. Nothing more. Stay. Out. Of. My. Life,” I spat, enunciating each word.
“He left you. You deserve better than him.”
“Like you care. The only thing you care about is making me miserable. Well, two can play at that game, Axel.”And, honey, I’m about to become a professional.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
I don’t know. But I needed to reclaim some semblance of power and control here. The words had tumbled out before my brain had formulated an actual threat.File that under Things to Figure Out Later.Right next to How to Survive Fake Dating Satan Himself.
“Did you see how he was acting tonight?” Axel stepped forward, closing the distance between us. “He leaned into the altercation, Dakota. He was practically marking his territory like a dog.”
I suppose I should’ve been upset by Mathew’s behavior, but I wasn’t. The truth was, it was healing in a way. The man who never fought for me was finally fighting for me, in more ways than one.
“Hey!” Rebecca clapped her hands like a teacher who was breaking up a playground fight. “You two can argue all you want later. But right now, we are going to debrief.” She turned her screen. “Is this the guy you’re fighting about?”
It was a photo of the altercation.
Axel snarled, “She was canoodling with her ex-boyfriend.”
Canoodling. Who even says canoodling anymore?What is he, eighty?
I tried to murder Axel with my glower. “Ratting me out? Seriously? What are you, twelve?”
“He’s yourex?” Rebecca shrieked. “Someone got a video! No audio, thank God, but the body language … do I need to state the obvious here, Dakota?”
