Page 37 of The Casanova Complex

It was an amazing kiss, yes, but stupid.

Sooooo stupid.

A resigned sigh slips through my lips. “He’s my ex-boyfriend, who apparently cannot get it through his head that we’re done, and he has shit for brains. But I was handling it.”

“Handling it by kissing me?” He smirks.

I’m not even going to acknowledge that it happened.

I’m actually already trying to forget it ever did.

“Look…” I say, sighing again, feeling almost lightheaded from lack of sleep and just pure exhaustion. I’m running on fumes, and honestly, dealing with Blake and Bennett both in one day has only made that worse. “Can we just go back to working on this? I don’t want to talk about my asshole ex who cheated on me, and this project needs to be what we’re focusing on.”

Bennett blinks, his mouth twisting into a scowl. “I can’t believe he cheated on you. What a fucking idiot. I hate that guy.”

That brings me to the most important question of all.

“He’s your teammate.”

A fact that I hadn’t forgotten. I was just simply pretending that it didn’t exist.

Avoidance at its finest.

“So?” he says with a pointed look, shrugging. “Doesn’t mean we have to like each other. He’s a dick, and I can’t stand him. Coach seems to think he’s what the team needed though, so we mostly stay out of each other’s way, except when he’s running his mouth. Hence one of the reasons I don’t fucking like him. Not that I needed any validation in that, but today only proved what I already knew. He’s a grade A fucking asshole. Obviously. Who doesn’t appreciate the things he has.” Bennett’s voice has gone rough, like even talking about Blake pisses him off.

Things as in… me?

I refuse to let myself hyperfixate on that little crumb, so instead, I clear my throat. “Yeah, well, you saw today that the only thing that Blake cares about is Blake and Blake alone.”

His jaw flexes as he shakes his head. “Unsurprising.”

“It’s fine. “ I wasn’t actually sure of that, but right now, I don’t have time to stop and think about it.

I can’t believe that he had the balls to walk over with her and speak to me, let alone to do so privately when it’s clear what he wants to talk about.

The reason I kissed Bennett wasn’t that there’s a single cell in my body that wants Blake back or even wanted to make him jealous.

Being jealous implies that I give a shit, and I don’t.

But what I do care about is my already bruised and fragile pride. He has humiliated me over, and over, and over again, and I just… snapped.

I wanted to piss him off. To make him as angry as I feel with the way he’s embarrassed me. It was just a kiss, but I knew it would accomplish pissing him off.

Blake is a narcissistic asshole who can’t accept that I don’t actually want him back, no matter what he’s concocted in that big head of his.

He cheated on me and has been texting me like he learned from his mistakes and wanted to fix it, but I’ve seen through it from the beginning.

Especially after today.

If I didn’t already know exactly who he was, today did nothing but solidify it.

I have zero doubt that if I ever did give him another chance, the moment he had me back in his grasp, he’d no longer be interested. He’d toss me aside and cheat again the first opportunity that arose because he got what he wanted.

It took being out of his orbit, away from the love bombing and manipulation, to realize I was only ever a shiny little trophy for his shelf.

Fucking gross.

“Anyway, you still didn’t have to do that. I’ve got it handled. All I need you to do is keep up your part of this project and help make sure that we get a good grade,” I add, turning back to my computer, desperately trying to regain control that feels like it’s slipping through my fingers like sand.