Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
And why do I hope that maybe it’s not?
My fingers comb through my hair as I heave a breath in frustration.
“If we took you out of the equation, life would carry on.”
My hands fall to my sides. My stomach knots into a tight ball.
I’ve never been a part of Georgia’s life, and she’s carried on just fine without me. She saw what a fuckup I can be years ago and made the right decision to freeze me out of her world.
She’s not wrong. My goal was—is?—to make her fall for me for the hell of it because I’m an asshole.
Who am I to even consider that her motivations might be different? I know better.
I’ve always known better.
And I need to remember that. No matter what.
Chapter Eighteen
Georgia
The bathroom mirror is foggy from my afternoon bath, so I grab a hand towel and wipe off the glass so I can see my reflection.
My hair is up in a towel, pulled away from my face, and there’s a rosiness to my cheeks. My lips are slightly swollen from the hot water. I look like I’ve been kissed.
I press my fingertips to my lips as butterflies take flight in my stomach—and I think about almost kissing him. Again.
“What is happening?” I whisper.
I’ve had so many thoughts rolling through my mind since my second date with Ripley. How is he so funny, thoughtful—sweet—when I know him to be the opposite?
The purple gloves. Taking me skating because I mentioned it over a decade ago. His promise not to let me fall.
This is the same man who would rather spit nails than speak to me most days.
What’s the difference now? The cameras?
The cameras weren’t in the parking lot.
“This is a mindfuck of exponential proportion,” I say, heading into my bedroom.
I get dressed quickly, my thoughts still with the blue-eyed monster.
If this were the real Ripley, would things be different between us? Would it change anything? Would it erase the hurt he’s caused me in the past?
“Two fake dates don’t change the behavior of a man for the last twelve years,” I say aloud. “Especially when it’s two fake dates with his actions being tracked by people outside of our friend group.”
My stomach drops.
I don’t know what I want. I’m not sure which result I want to be the answer. Do I want him to be the asshole he’s always been? Or do I want there to be more to him than a rich prick who thinks he’s better than me?
I flop on the bed and stare at the ceiling, memories from a decade ago floating through my mind.
“You know he doesn’t really like you, right?” The blonde giggles, blowing a big pink bubble in my face. “There was a bet. He won. They’re all in the refreshment room laughing about you right now.”
“And he’s probably at home laughing at me right now, too,” I say on a sigh.
“Hey!” Sutton’s voice drifts through my townhouse. “Where are you?”
“Bed,” I shout back.
She bops around the corner. “Still?”
“Hey, unemployment has its perks.”
“You’re technically employed by me.” She sits on the edge of the bed. “Well, the company I work for, but whatever.”
I sit up, my body feeling heavy. “What are you doing here in the middle of the day?”
“Just checking on you.” Her smile is as bright as the strand of pearls around her neck. “Myla said the footage she’s gotten so far from your two dates is perfect, by the way. You haven’t really texted me much, so I thought you might need a face-to-face bestie sesh.”
I smile at her.
“So, how’s it going?” she asks.
I get up, wishing I could get out of this conversation. There’s no way to pull it off. If I try to change the subject away from Ripley, it’ll send a red flag shooting to the sky. I’m always happy and free to talk shit about him.
“We talked on the phone last night,” I say. “You already know. It’s going fine.”
“I know you said that. But I wanted to see your face when you said it.”
My hand stalls over my dresser. “Why?”
“A couple of reasons,” she says. “One, Myla said the two of you are, in her words, absolute fire together.”
I find a pair of random earrings on the dresser and put them in my ears.
“Myla said it’s such a natural back-and-forth that editing is going to be so much easier than she feared,” Sutton says.
Really? “Did you tell her it’s because we can’t stand each other?”
“I did. She found that interesting. And the second reason I wanted to see your face is because you haven’t exactly called me screaming about him. That, my friend, is a bit suspicious.”
My body stiffens. “Yeah, well, he behaves because a camera is in front of him. He’s professional. I’ll say that about him.”
Except that he nearly kissed me … twice.