Ignoring Simon, I lift the phone to my ear. “Hey, I have to go…babe.” I almost grimace because I’m definitely not ababekind of girl.
“This is a fucking joke. It’s got to be.” Simon laughs, but there’s little to no humor.
I ignore Simon again, telling Brookes, “I’ll be there soon.”
“You really think a guy likeBrookes Devereauxwants to be with a fat pig like you?” Simon spits.
And, normally, jibes about my weight don’t affect me at all. Especially fromSimon. But the way he says it, accompanied by the look in his eyes when he says it, and the fact that, deep down, I know what he’s saying is true because Brookes Devereaux has already made it abundantly clear that the only reason he’s paying me to be his fake girlfriend is because there’s zero risk of him wanting to ever sleep with me, well… I’m only human.
“Brookes, I’ve gotta go.” I clear the pesky bubble of emotion that’s stuck in my throat.
“Poppy!” Brookes’ voice is low, gravelly and demanding.
“I’ll… I’ll be there soon.” I quickly end the call before anymore can be said.
“You’re pathetic,” Simon scoffs, shaking his head at me, hisgaze scanning my room behind me. “And when he’s done with his… BBW kink… don’t think you can come crawling back here.”
Simon turns and I close the door, locking him out again. And then, as much as I hate myself for allowing his words to get to me, I turn and sag back against the door, sliding down to the floor and hugging my knees as my tears make their escape.
CHAPTER 10
BROOKES
My tires skid as I come in hot, pulling up to a faded yellow apartment complex in the shitty part of West Palm Beach.
I hop out of my Range Rover and press the button on my fob, the alarm chirping loudly as I make direct and unwavering eye contact with a couple of kids hanging around, looking like they’re up to no good.
Walking toward the apartment building, I point a threatening finger across at the kids and warn, “Don’t even fuckin’ think about it.”
When they quickly scurry off, I have to bite back my smirk because no matter how tough they try to look, at the end of the day, they’re just kids.
Taking the steps two at a time, I check the numbers on the doors that I pass before stopping at apartment 2D and not hesitating before banging my fist against the flimsy timber.
A few seconds later, the door opens a crack, and I see a pair of brown eyes peering out at me before it swings open fully, a shirtless motherfucker standing right there in front of me. He’s around five-ten, give or take, lean with a little muscle mass, butI’m six-two, two-twenty, and right now, after hearing the way he spoke to Poppy while I was on the phone with her earlier, I’m fucking pissed.
Stepping in, I’m toe to toe with the asshole, meeting his dark gaze with a steelydon’t-even-fucking-try-mestare. “Where’s Poppy?”
“Yo, Poppy!” he yells, still looking directly at me. “Your…boyfriend’shere.” The way he says boyfriend makes my hands ball into fists.
Footsteps sound behind fuckface, and I look up to find Poppy stop suddenly, her face fraught, eyes wide and obviously red-rimmed and bloodshot like she’s been crying. I seethe.
“Brookes?” She gapes at me, her gaze flitting quickly to Simon.
I shove past the skinny prick and in three strides I’m in front of her, fully aware of Captain Fuckface’s eyes on us. I lift a hand, gently cupping her cheek, hearing her sharp intake of breath, and, leaning down, I press my lips to her temple with a whispered, “Are you okay?”
She nods quickly.
“Come on, baby,” I say, loud enough for the asshole to hear. Taking her hand, I lead her to the open door where I assume she came from. “Let’s get your things and get the fuck outta this shit hole.”
When we enter the bedroom, Poppy closes the door behind us and locks it, then, spinning around, she’s incredulous as she looks me up and down while I stand in the center of the tiny room, taking up almost all the available space.
“What are you doing here?” she hisses, pushing her hair back from her flushed face.
“Oh yeah, like I was just going to let you deal withthat”—I point a finger in the direction of where we left the fuckface in the living room—“after hearing the way he was speaking to you.”
Poppy cowers a little, her face falling. “You heard that?”
“Yeah.” I scoff. “And fuck that guy,” I say loud enough for him to hear me through the sheet-thin walls. “He’s lucky I don’t go back out there and knock his goddamn teeth down his fucking throat.”
