“Oh, Lizzy. I’ve wanted this for so long.”
My fingers halt on the keyboard.
Oh holy shit.
No.
No, no, no.
Tristan is infiltrating my mind. I can’t even see Mr. Darcy anymore.
I see Tristan.
He doesn’t even look like Mr. Darcy. Not the Mr. Darcy in my mind, at least. He looks like Mr. Wickham.
The charmer.
The fraud.
I slam my laptop shut. When I press my hands against my face, heat radiates into my palms. Oh fuck this. Now I’m turned on.
Thinking about Tristan, not Darcy.
He’s taken everything from me. Even my fanfic.
Hours later, I’m tossing and turning in my bed, the dorm room dark except for a sliver of moonlight peeking through the window. It’s useless. Sleep eludes me, and my thoughts are consumed by Tristan. I need a distraction.
I pull out my phone and bring up Serena’s name.
Me: Can you come over? I’m freaking the fuck out.
Serena: I’ll be right there.
“He’s smitten,” Serena says.
I walk in another tiny circle in my cramped dorm room.
Fuck, I need air.
After rushing over to my desk, I lean across it to grab the window latch. This dorm is ancient, so it swings open as soon as I press on the rusty metal.
“No, he’s not,” I say, relishing the breeze as it drifts over my face. “He’s fucking with me.”
“No,” she says immediately. “I could see it all over his face. It was how Nick used to look at me.”
“He’s an actor,” I say. “You’ve seen him turn on for the cameras.”
She arches one of her dark brows. “He doesn’t turn on like that for me. Or for any of the other girls. I watched Ainsley’s recent one-on-one, and he barely even talked to her. She had to carry the whole conversation.”
Thoughts race like electricity through my mind.Why is he doing this? Why me? He can’t be this cruel. Why would he expend this much energy?
“It doesn’t make any sense,” I say.
“It does if he’s smitten.”
I groan as I free fall back onto my bed. “Please don’t say that anymore. It’s confusing me. I can’t start liking Tristan. It would be dangerous. Think of what he did.”
She sighs. “You’re right. I wouldn’t trust him either if I were you.”
