Page 8 of Fake Fiancée Bear's Enemies-to-Lovers

He leaves and I sit on the loveseat, shaking, as I hear my front door open and close.

He left.

I sit in a daze. He left and, well, nothing.

Holy fuck, he left and didn’t take me here on the loveseat like some animal. He respected my boundaries.

Or realize he didn’t want the spoiled brat?

No, not high and mighty fire inspector. His hose is too good for my fire, I guess.

Some part of me knows my slowly rekindling anger is not rational, but it only makes me angrier.

And that anger infuses a very passionate masturbation session that night as I imagine we didn’t stop, and Lucas fucked me like crazy.

Fucking bastard, just fuck me!

It’s my angry mantra before, during and after, and it makes me want to cry.

Chapter Five

Lucas

Well, this is a fine fucking mess.

I drove one hundred and three miles after leaving Madeline’s house last night. I know I drove one hundred and three miles because I turned around one mile ahead of my destination. If I’d gone that last mile, I would be kissing Joanne goodbye right now and the two of us would pretend I would call her or she would call me.

Neither of us would call. And another month or two would pass before I would show up at her door. And we would spend another mostly meaningless night together. It would be mostly meaningless because there would be no obligation and no future in it. It wouldn’t be completely meaningless because Joanne does this dance with me because she hopes someday there might be a future.

I’ve known that for seven months now.

And I think taking advantage of her by showing up is the evilest thing I can do.

And so, I’ve managed to keep myself from showing up for the last six months. I’ve never been so desperate for intimacy that I’m willing to hurt her that way. Last night, I came very, very close.

I might be proud of myself for holding back if not for the fact that I’m most definitely fucked to high Hell right now. I made that drive because of what almost happened at Madeline’s house. If she hadn’t come to her senses, who the Hell knows what today might be?

But she did come to her senses.

And that made me come to my senses.

But in the process, it also made things very apparent to me. I’m hung up on this spoiled brat. I’m hung up on her. She’s the worst kind of entitled in that she doesn’t understand that she’s entitled. She has a good heart, of course. She really does want to make the world a better place. I think that desire, though, keeps her from realizing how much she expects everyone to bow to her whims.

And damn it, I’m getting hung up on her.

Or I’m already there.

In either case, this is a fucking problem. It’s a big fucking problem.

It’s eight forty-five. I do something I haven’t done in a while. I know it’s going to cause her a lot of pain but I need to cut off the avenue for me. So, I dial Joanne’s number. She answers immediately with, “Where are you?”

I’m kind of shocked by that. She’s never asked that before. Do I hear panic in her voice? “I’m back in the city. You okay?”

She sounds very relieved when she says, “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” I say, “But it sounded like…”

“I’m really fine actually, Lucas, and I… I can’t meet with you this time. I miss you and I can’t say I’m not tempted but I gotmarried and, well, and I got married. I couldn’t invite you to the wedding, of course.”