“You asked for an advance.” I stab the air with my finger. “You cashed the check.”
We stare at each other for several terrible seconds before Mina finally breaks the silence.
“Do you know why I wouldn’t answer Fallon’s calls or texts?”
I swipe my underwear off the floor, step out of my pants so I can remove Mina’s panties and pull mine into place. It’s time to get the fuck out of here. “Not sure I care, but I’m positive you’ll enlighten me anyway,” I say, hunting down my pants, only to find them clutched in my fist.
“Fallon published that article yesterday because she knows I’m falling in love with you and had the balls to think telling the world how we started would help me see why that was a stupid idea. And after this—” she waves her hand in my direction “—I’m starting to see her point.”
“That makes three of us.” I sneer as I step back into my pants, tug the zipper up, and shove the button through the hole. “Everything about this was a mistake.”
“You won’t hear me fight you on that one.”
I snag my shirt off the floor and yank it over my head. Turn to Mina then realize there’s nothing I can say that will make this better. I trusted her with all of me, and she didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.
She’s been Blossoming me this whole time. Everything between us has been about Fallon fucking Mae and her blog.
The fact that I don’t quite believe it even though Fallon was here as proof enrages me.
“Tell me how much of this was contrived,” I demand, anger pulling me deeper into the room. “Was that text really an accident? The one that started everything? Or were you and your bitch friend plotting against me the entire time? Did you two dream this whole thing up to feed that cunt information for her stupid clickbait gossip bullshit?”
“Get out.” Mina stabs a finger at the door.
I step closer, tutting in disapproval. “Did you whore yourself out for clicks, HM?”
“Get out!” Her voice shakes. Her eyes flash. Her finger trembles as her jaws clench.
I take one last lingering look, savoring the taste of her rage while my chest clenches and my throat tightens.
“You better believe I’m out,” I say, shaking my head and reaching for the door.
“I don’t want to see you or your Prince of Darkness smirk again.”
I turn over my shoulder, smirking for her benefit, then about face and leave the Hot Mess Express in my rearview like I should have from the start.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Mina
Fury mixes with sorrow as Nathan marches out of my room. I stand, panting, chest heaving, brain whirling. I’ve been awake all of ten minutes and everything has changed. Everything.
Last night he told me he loved me.
This morning he called me a whore.
He thinks I used him for personal gain when he was the one who came to me about faking a relationship.
If I’m a whore, it’s because you made me one! I think, then scurry down the hallway, intent on hurling the statement his way. Instead, I watch through the window as Nathan lowers himself into his car, then clutch the wall for support as my knees go weak.
Tears gather and my fists clench and fuck him for making me feel like this. Fuck him for talking about love only to throw horrible words in my face. Fuck him for running away instead of sticking around for a hard conversation. Fuck him for giving me a glimpse of a dream come true, then slapping me in the face with reality.
And fuck me for being too much of a coward to be honest with him in the first place.
Dear God. What have I done? Regretfully, Mina Blake.
Shortly after Nathan leaves, I call the office and inform them I’ll be working from home, which is definitely an overstatement of what will be happening. The chances of me actually working are small. I can’t think clearly. My emotions are all over the place. I desperately need someone to talk to, but my support system is gone.
I can’t talk to Fallon; she’s part of the problem.
I’m not ready to talk to Nathan, and I’m gonna bet the feeling is mutual.
Mom has enough on her plate and isn’t strong enough to handle my emotional turmoil. Since that sums up my list of trusted confidants, it looks like I’m on my own for this one.
With a wry twist of my head, I pull on my sweats, go to the store to stock up on ice cream, and hunker down for the weekend.
The day fades and so does my anger, leaving a queasy trail of guilt in its wake.
This fiasco is on me.
I knew I needed to tell Nathan Fallon was my friend. And I knew it was going to be ugly when I did, which is why I kept putting it off. But instead of hearing it from me, he finds her in my bedroom first thing in the morning while wearing my underwear after discovering his cousin is missing.
That’s ugly stacked on ugly stacked on ugly, compliments of yours truly.
Nathan reacted badly, but who could blame him? Considering the circumstances, a saint wouldn’t have done better.
With a sigh, I swipe my phone off the table.
I’m so so so so so sorry. I can’t stop thinking about you. I miss you. I’d love to talk when you’re feeling up to it
Nathan
I’m not feeling up to it.
For what it’s worth, I haven’t been manipulating you
If that’s true, I’m sorry I called you a whore for clicks.
It is true.
And I just now realized you said you’re not feeling up to talking and I’m making you talk anyway.
When you’re ready, I’m here.
I wait for signs of a response that never come, then lock my phone with a sigh and head to the freezer for another pint of ice cream.
