But she is rarely ever wrong.
If I can’t handle an inevitable that comes with Damion, I need to tell him firmly that I am not interested. It’d be wrong to drag him along. I just… What if I turn him down, then change my mind? What if the horrible, horrible possibility of me growing tolikehim comes about?
In spite of the lying and the manipulation and the cunning.
I bury my nose against my pig.
Fawn spreads her legs and begins stretching. “What are you thinking about?”
“I shouldn’t like him. I shouldn’t be worried that I’m going to turn him down and then change my mind. He’s not a good person.”
She fixes her glasses. “He isn’t?”
“He’s a liar.”
“Most people are.”
“He’s also very good at manipulation.” I squeeze Macaroon. “For all I know, it’s a trick. He’s faking. Hewasso keen on us fake dating in response to the media’s stupidity.” I gasp and lean in. “And when he called his PR manager in front of me? I learned that that guy wants us to put on a show for the media, too! What if Damion mentioned the fake dating because he was trying to do what his PR team wanted but he also knew I wasn’t going torealdate him because I hate him?”
“If I were a billionaire and I wanted someone to do something, I’d be like, ‘Here’s a million dollars.’”
“I’d never sell myself.” I scowl.
“Not even for a million dollars?”
“No.”
Fawn contorts her body in a way that makes me shudder, then she says, “You realize you’re the minority on that? And you realize that either Damion’s intentions aren’t just getting a show out of youorhe has paid enough attention to know that you wouldn’t sell yourself out like that?”
“He’s probably smart enough to pay attention to those involved in his evil schemes.”
Fawn lifts herself out of the twist and stares at me. “Right.”
“I can’t trust him. Even though he’s supposed to be being honest right now, I can’t trust him. So I should just shut everything down.”
“But you don’t want to. Because you would have already if you did.”
I whimper. “I feel so stupid. I’m going to get myself hurt. And for why? Because I’m a harlot.”
“What.”
“I’m a harlot! A floozy! A tramp! A minx!” I fall onto my side against the carpet. “I possess no restraint, no will power, no self-control. Men are meat, and I am a starved vixen.”
Fawn snorts, then throws her head back and cackles. She’s wheezing and pushing her glasses up to wipe the tears from her eyes before she contains herself, and humor still laces every last one of her strained words when she regains the ability to speak. “Okay, and?”
“What do you meanokay, and?”
“What’s the problem with being a—” She uses a word that is not any of the words I said, but is also exactly the definition of the point I am trying to get across.
My cheeks heat. “It is wrong. I want more than physical. I don’t want a cheap relationship like that.”
“In your brain, maybe. But the whole struggle you’re having here implies something different.” Evil, she leans forward, holds my gaze, and says, “Get your cutest pj’s on, walk over to his house, and go to his bedroom.”
“What?” I whisper-shriek.
She plants herself against the carpet, doing a full split. “Satisfy the beast.”
“That’swrong.”
