He arches an eyebrow. My breath sticks in my throat as he captures a lock of my hair, pinching it between two fingers. “I think you’re very wrong about that.” My hair glides through his grasp, his finger turning in a circle so my hair spirals around it.
Then he drops it. And lopes off. Just like that.
No goodbye. No backwards glance.
Inside my house with the door closed, I spy his short list lying on the couch where he’d been sitting. I swipe the paper, tracing my finger over his neat handwriting.
When I agreed to the idea of Klein being my fake date for the week, I’d only thought about it on a surface level. The logistics, and what each one of us will get out of it.
I didn’t consider what it would mean for me to get to know him, or how it would feel to let him know me.
I like it.
And I don’t care for that.
Are you awake?
Yes. How was your shift? Any more lascivious acts in the parking lot?
I told you nothing happened with her.
Sure, sure.
You’re stubborn.
As are you.
I stopped for tacos on the way home. It made me think of you.
How thoughtful.
And then I realized you never told me much about Clean Shoe Guy.
Uhh ok??? He has a name.
Satan, correct?
Close. Shane.
What do you want to know?
Do you still carry a torch for him? Just trying to ascertain what exactly I’m getting myself into when I arrive on the island.
I’d rather chew off my own big toe than have a remotely romantic experience with Shane/Satan ever again.
I bet you said the same thing about me after our bad kiss.
We were barely adults when that happened. I forgive us.
So no lingering feelings for the ex, then?
What do you get when you multiply zero by a zillion?
Zero.
Bingo!
CHAPTER 14
