Ryker: Careful, brother. Your worst nightmare might be coming true: catching actual feelings.
Me: Are you three done psychoanalyzing my life?
Ryker: Oh, we’re just getting started. This fake relationship drama is better than Netflix.
Blake: Knox is going to lose his shit when he finds out his sister turned our playboy into a tire-slashing Romeo.
Ryker: [Sends GIF of man eating popcorn with huge grin.] This is me watching your “fake” relationship unfold.
Jace: Should we start a betting pool on when he admits he’s falling for her?
Blake: I give it two weeks.
Ryker: One week, tops. Did you SEE his murder face in that photo?
Jace: Three days. He’s already shopping for more tire-slashing equipment on Amazon.
Me: I hate all of you.
Blake: Love you too, tire slasher. *kissing emoji*
14
WHEN YOUR GIRLS’ NIGHT TURNS INTO A MASTERCLASS IN PSYCHOLOGICAL WARFARE. #REVENGESERVEDHOT
DAKOTA
“Challenge accepted?” A soft chuckle escaped Faith’s lips. “You said, ‘Challenge accepted’? What exactly did you mean by that?”
“I have no idea,” I admitted, already feeling the pleasant buzz from the wine spreading through my veins. “But it was either say something to get under his skin or flat-out punch him in the throat, and I decided physical assault would probably violate the terms and conditions of this ridiculous charade.”
God, I was so glad she came early to our girls’ night so I could confide all of this to her: Mathew, our breakup, and how he’d come back fighting for me, only to have Axel act like a complete ass. Blake’s sister, Faith, didn’t know me like Scarlett and Tessa did, so I felt less pressure to be … well, a decent human being.
I didn’t want to be decent right now. After what Axel did last night, I wanted to be petty. With a capital P. Maybe all caps: PETTY.
While we waited for Tessa and Scarlett to arrive, Faith and I sat at Axel’s obscenely expensive dining room table, some wood monstrosity that probably required seven men to assemble uphere. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched behind us, showcasing a view of the city most people only saw from rooftops, and the chandelier overhead was all geometric crystal and brushed bronze, the kind of fixture you’d see in a design magazine. Beautiful and cold.
He had everything. The classic elegance, the space, the view. He didn’t need to try and control my life too.
Faith poured us both more wine, and I took a sip, grateful I’d invited them over to commiserate.
Okay, fine, I invited the girls over to talk me out of doing something stupid. Because after Rebecca and Axel left, I’d paced by the elevator door, beyond tempted to run to Mathew and tell him what was going on.
“Why do you hate the idea of doing the whole get-to-know-you talk?” Faith cocked her head.
“Axel already knows enough about me,” I argued. “He was there to witness my family’s downfall firsthand and saw me at my most broken in the courthouse.” Something I hated more than the smell of rotten eggs. “Plus, he already holds the key to my most painful secret: that my brother is a convicted killer.” I’d mentioned that little tidbit to Faith, too, and I could tell Faith was just waiting to press me on that for information. “That secret could destroy my brand if anyone found out. The last thing I want to do is pretend to love someone who has the power to ruin everything.”
“Maybe what you hate isn’t Axel,” Faith said quietly. “Maybe what you hate is how he makes you feel when you’re around him.”
“Which is?”
“Like you can’t hide.”
This time, I glared, but it was to pretend her words didn’t bounce around in my head.
She smirked. “Okay, but answer me this.” She swirled the ruby liquid in her glass thoughtfully. “Why does he seem so angry at you?”
“The photo.”
