Skyler Mason
AMY
What was Mr. Darcy about to do?
Shit.
I haven’t been able to concentrate a bit on the latest chapter of my fanfic. My mind keeps drifting back to the deal I made with Tristan last night.
After taking a deep breath, I lean back in my chair, letting my eyes drift away from the screen. Can I really pull this off? It’s one thing to pretend I’m indifferent to Tristan when we’re making conversation, but how am I going to feel if he’s touching me? I’ll just have to remind myself over and over again that he’s boring. That I would never want him long term.
The problem is that I’m not finding him as boring as I used to. I’ve actually had fun talking to him since the competition started. Just like I did years ago when I was trying to get to know him for Harper’s sake. Just like I did that day in the library.
I’m softening toward him yet again, and it’s not good. Not good at all.
He’s dangerous.
I set my fingers back on my keyboard, attempting to get back into my fanfic, but the words won’t come. Tristan has infiltrated my mind, damn him. It’s impossible to focus on anything else.
Those blue eyes. The softness in his voice when he said, “that’s my girl.”
Fuck, I’m so stupid. This is my fanfic brain working, but in the wrong direction. I’ve written several praise-kink versions of Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth’s first time having sex.
How am I replacing Mr. Darcy with Tristan? He’s not a Mr. Darcy. He’s a Mr. Wickham. I’ve known this forever.
I can’t write. Not if I’m picturing Tristan. My fanfic is one of my greatest joys. I can’t let thoughts of Tristan pollute it.
Damn him.
I need to talk out my feelings with someone who’ll understand my situation and help me make sense of it all.
I grab my phone and press Cody’s name, tapping my foot nervously as I wait for him to answer.
“No, I will not proofread your fanfic,” he says immediately after picking up. “I don’t have time.”
I smile. He knows this is my normal writing time. “Do you have time to meet up? I really need to talk about something.” I let worry infuse my voice so that he’ll take pity on me. Sadly, it’s not hard to do.
“Is it about Tristan?” He says Tristan’s name with just a hint of disdain.
“What else would it be about?”
He sighs heavily. “Let’s meet in twenty. Our usual spot.”
Warmth fills my chest. “Perfect.”
A half hour later, we’re sitting on the sand on the beach just a few blocks away from my dorm.
“I don’t know…” Cody shakes his head as he stares out at the ocean. The wind is whipping his dark hair every which way over his face. “Something’s not adding up.”
“What do you mean?”
He narrows his eyes, seeming lost in thought. “Why does he need your help making Harper jealous? Why you of all people?”
My stomach sinks to the sand. Even though I’m suspicious of Tristan’s motives, it sucks to hear that Cody is too.
I groan, burying my face in my hands. “He said it’s because of our history.”
Even when I can’t see Cody’s face, I feel his skeptical expression like a shadow on a sunny day. “I would’ve thought because of your history, you’d give him an immediate no. He’s up to something with this. It’s obvious. It’s too far-fetched to be real.”
“You think this is part of his plan to embarrass me. Whatever his plan is.”
He lets out a long sigh. “Of course I do. Nothing else makes sense.”
“I wonder if this is part of his plan to make me fall for him. He thinks touching me will do the trick.”
Cody grimaces. “I want to kill him.”
I snort. “He won’t be able to trick me into falling for him. The only reason he got me to like him the first few times was because he found my weakness. The thing that means more to me than anything. My writing. He’s been asking me about it since high school. It was one of the first things he brought up that day in the library.”
He shakes his head. “Sociopath.”
“Yes, but there’s no way in hell I’ll let him fool me again. I’m trying to stay one step ahead of him. I’d love it if I could thwart whatever plan he has by showing him how I don’t give a fuck.”
A slow smile spreads over his face. “Maybe I can help you.”
My stomach does a little turn. “How?”
“Maybe tell him you’re trying to make someone jealous too.”
I burst into laughter. “You?”
He narrows his eyes playfully, lifting a hand and ruffling my hair. “Always know how to boost my confidence, don’t you?”
Laughter keeps bubbling from my chest, and Cody watches me, shaking his head.
“You already said I’m not a good actor,” I say, my voice choked, and Cody punches me in the shoulder.
“And anyway,” I say, “what would that do?”
Cody’s eyes grow intense. He leans forward, his forehead nearly touching mine. “It would show him that you’re not going to fall for him. No matter what he does, he won’t have any leverage over you. You want someone else.”
Tingles ripple over my skin. He’s right. He’s absolutely right.
“It’s a great idea,” I mutter.
***
The moment has come.
It’s our first real date, and I’m about to pee my pants I’m so nervous. Tristan’s already had dates with two other contestants, and the videos of them were posted on YouTube last night.
I couldn’t bring myself to watch either of them. It would have only made my anxiety off the charts.
A student ushers Tristan and I into one of Pacific Crest’s private courtyards, usually reserved only for professors. When I step out of the concrete building, I find that the area is lit with fairy lights wrapped around trees. They cast a warm glow over the outdoor table covered in sparkling glassware. A stream of water rushes from a small fountain in the center of the courtyard.
Damn. This is really fancy. I’ve never been on a date like this.
And here I am on a fake one. One the whole campus will see.
“Are you ready?” Tristan asks, grabbing my hand. I grit my teeth to resist the tingle rushing up my arm. He can’t know how unnerved I am.
Aloof, Amy. Be calm and collected.
Camera crew members bustle around us, setting up the equipment. At least for this long date, they finally have professional lighting and cameras. Maybe I won’t look as frumpy in this YouTube episode as I did in the five-minute date.
I take a deep breath and nod. “Let’s do this.”
After we sit down across from each other, the game director explains the plan for the evening. My head is so fuzzy I don’t catch all of it, except for two things that puncture my anxious daze. One, we won’t actually be eating, which is a relief given the current churning of my stomach, and two, we only have a half hour, so he recommends we start with an icebreaker.
“Truth or dare?” Tristan asks, leaning back in his chair.
I’m startled by the question, but then I realize this must be his icebreaker. Of course it would roll off his tongue as soon as the director gave us the signal to start. Tristan has already done this two years in a row. He’s a professional.
“Truth.” I lean back into my own chair, trying to mimic his relaxed demeanor. He’s such a natural on camera, like he was born for it.
“Have you ever been in love?” He lifts his gaze from the table, and those blue eyes bore into mine. He’s trying to unsettle me. It won’t work.
“Not quite in love,” I say, my stomach fluttering at this perfect segue into Cody’s plan. “But there’s a guy I’m into.”
Tristan narrows his eyes as he stares at me for a long moment. “Who was it?”
I set my elbows on the table and lean forward. “You say ‘was’ like you’re sure I don’t like him anymore.”
His expression clouds over. Did I unsettle him right back? If he really does have an evil plan to humiliate me by making me fall for him, this can’t be good news.
“So you still want him?” It sounds like an accusation.
I pick up my water glass and take a slow sip, hoping to draw out the suspense. “I think it’s my turn. You already asked your question, and I answered it.” I set down my glass. “Truth or dare?”
His lips quirk. “Truth.”
I square my shoulders. “Why did you nominate me for this competition?”
His eyes grow huge before he glances at the cameraman. “Are we really going there? On a date that’s going to be on YouTube?”
I shrug. “I’m curious. Plus, I think it works well with what…” I swallow, trying to figure out a way to indirectly mention Harper. “With what we talked about the other day.”
“I guess it does. Alright then.” That familiar smirk spreads over his face. “Because I wanted to spend time with you.”
Heat creeps along my neck and into my cheeks. He couldn’t have sounded more sarcastic if he tried.
Dick.
“You can’t lie in truth or dare. You’ll have an itchy asshole for the rest of your life if you do. It’s the truth or dare curse.”
His smile grows. “I’m not lying.”
“Fine,” I say, not wanting to press this issue further when everyone in our university could potentially see it. “Your turn.”
“Alright,” he says, leaning back into his chair. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” I say right away.
He smiles. “We’re not doing any dares?”
I scowl. “No way I’m doing a dare while being filmed. Not with a sadist like you. You’d probably make me moon the camera.”
His smile grows, baring his perfect, white teeth. Fuck him for being so beautiful when he has a heart of coal. There’s no justice in the universe.
“I’d never do that,” he says with a strange intensity. “At least not for other people to see. So who is the guy?”
I hesitate for a moment. Should I share this now for the whole Pacific Crest YouTube to hear or would it be better saved for one of our staged hangouts outside of the competition? I’m not the best liar when I’m under scrutiny, but on the other hand, Cody will get a huge laugh.
I lower my gaze to the table. “Cody Morris.”
I can’t see Tristan’s face, but something vibrates in the air between us… Something I can’t quite interpret, but it’s thick and heavy and makes my skin tingle.
“Really?” His voice is quiet, almost a whisper.
When I lift my gaze, his jaw is clenched. “Yes,” I say.
Tristan’s expression shutters. “Interesting,” he murmurs, seemingly to himself. “He always seemed like kind of a dick to me.”
I gasp out a laugh. “Cody? Are you serious? He’s one of the kindest people I know.”
Tristan’s nostrils flare. “I don’t think you’re the best judge of character. I’ve seen him with you. He mocks you. Not in a nice way either. What kind of friend is that?”
Incredulity trickles over me like rain. “It’s just his sense of humor. I tease him too.”
He shakes his head. “Not the way he teases you.”
I jerk back. “How would you know? Have you seen us together on campus? Were you eavesdropping?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “You guys are loud talkers.”
“Yeah.” I huff. “That’s how people who have a real connection with each other behave. We’re so delighted with each other’s company that we tune everything else out. I don’t think someone like you could understand that.”
His eyes grow bright, and that cruel smirk makes its appearance again. “You’re raising your voice right now. Does that mean you’re enjoying my company?”
“Yes, actually,” I say immediately. I can’t lie.
It’s fun to spar with him.
He jerks back, incredulity spreading over his face. He was clearly expecting a different answer than that. He’s quiet for a moment, and I wish I could pull his head apart to read his thoughts.
“I’m surprised,” I say. “I always thought you were boring.”
Heat creeps into my cheeks at my impulsivity. I really don’t want to hurt his feelings, mean as he is. On the other hand, it’s probably not possible to hurt them. Why would he care if the shy little nerd finds him boring when everyone else on campus thinks he’s a god?
When I look up at his face, his nostrils are flared. Maybe I did hit a nerve.
“You don’t fucking know me at all,” he says. “We never talk.”
“We used to talk,” I say in a small voice.
A bitter memory flashes in my mind. I told him so much. I trusted him. His connection with Harper made him an automatic friend, even though I had disliked him at first and thought he was a bully.
And that day in the library not long ago… I told him so much, and I knew better then. How when I write, I’m more myself than ever. My heart rate slows, and the world around me fades away. How I can’t stand the way that people trash fan fiction, like it’s a lesser art just because it pulls from source material.
Tristan leans forward, his blue eyes boring into mine. “I’m sorry about…” He swallows. “I’m sorry about everything that happened. In high school. And that day…”
In the quad that day, he means. I can’t trust him. This is part of his charm. He’s trying to lull me into complacence.
It’s always a game with him.
“It’s okay,” I say, trying to lull him right back. If he thinks I accept his apology, he might begin to trust me.
He smiles, brightening his entire face. “I’ve never had more fun talking to anyone in my life. I could talk to you forever, Amelia.”
Something warm and soft fills my whole body. I don’t think anyone has ever said anything like that to me, not even Cody, and it feels like the first trickle of rain on a breezy fall day.
He’s saying this to fuck with me.
Or to make Harper jealous.
Don’t fall for it, Amy. You know better.
A moment later, the director tells us our date is over, and Tristan shifts back to his aloof, smirking self, but I’m still thinking about what he said hours later in my dorm room bed. The warm buzz from his words hasn’t dissipated.
Fuck. This isn’t good.
If I’m going to get revenge, I need to stop being such a sap.