I looked toward the phone and stifled a shudder. I wasn't a germophobe or anything, but that phone had bathroom cooties written all over it. Still, Flynn did have a point. Someone had to check it, unless we wanted whatever the guy had gotten to make its way to the gossip sites – or, for that matter, to some dude's nonexistent blog.
In a flash of sudden inspiration, I looked back to Flynn and said, "If you let him go, you could check it."
He gave me a cold smile. "Or, I could shove it up his ass."
I rolled my eyes. Again with the ass? I gave the guy what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "He's just kidding."
Flynn looked to the guy and said, "You believe her?"
Wordlessly, the guy shook his head.
Flynn gave the guy a slow, approving nod. "Maybe you aren't so dumb after all."
I winced. It was definitely time to change the subject.
"Fine," I said. "I'll check it." Trying not to think about what microbes might be nesting on its surface, I carefully picked up the phone and was relieved to see that the screen wasn't locked.
The phone was similar to my own, and I scrolled through its open applications, quickly discovering a video that showed shaky footage of the bathroom stall, followed by even shakier footage of Flynn kicking in the door. There was also the matter of the audio, which could be just as damaging.
Deletion time.
When I finished removing anything that was less than ten minutes old, I double checked to make sure there was nothing that I'd missed, including outgoing texts or emails.
Sadly, I'd learned this lesson the hard way.
Finally, I held out the phone to its owner, who was still flattened against the wall, courtesy of my so-called boyfriend. The guy's shoulders were pinned, but his hands were free, well, sort of anyway.
I shoved the phone into his nearest hand and told him, "Don't do that again, okay?"
When he gave a jerky nod, I turned to Flynn and said, "You can let go now."
With a low curse, he finally released the guy, and none too gently either.
Just like the two guys before him, the stranger bolted for the restroom's main door and didn't look back before plowing through it.
But it wasn't until the door slammed shut behind him that the real conflict began.
Chapter 3
Anna
The door had barely shut when Flynn turned and gave me an irritated look. "Tell me something."
I almost winced. "What?"
"If we find someone else, is that part of the deal, too?"
I bit my lip. Good question.
Nervously, I glanced around. Unless someone was hiding inside that oversized trash can, we were definitely alone. Still, as casually as I could, I wandered to the can and lifted the lid.
I leaned over it and peered inside. All I saw were wadded paper towels and a crumpled candy bar wrapper. I frowned down at the wrapper, wondering just where that candy bar had been consumed.
My gaze drifted to the stalls, and I decided not to think about it.
After a long moment, I looked back to Flynn and said, "No."
His eyebrows lifted. "No?"
"I mean, that's it. So I guess we're even."
Even I realized that this wasn't quite true. Three guys? A thousand dollars? By any measure, I'd gotten the better end of the deal. The favor I'd done for him yesterday had been nothing in comparison. It had cost me nothing except my dignity, which I'd been losing on a daily basis, anyway.
"Even, huh?" Flynn gave a low scoff. "You sure about that?"
Now, I did wince. "Are you talking about the camera money?" After all, a thousand dollars was no small amount – to me, anyway.
He frowned. "Fuck the money."
I should've been relieved. But mostly, I was annoyed. I hated the thought of owing him anything. "Because if it's such a problem," I said, "I'll pay for it."
He gave me a dubious look, as if to say, Oh yeah? With what?
Heat flooded my face, even as I clarified, "I mean, after we settle up."
Next month. Something in my heart twisted. Soon, I'd be coming into more money than I'd had in forever. It wasn't a fortune, at least not by Flynn's standards, but it would be a game-changer for me considering how badly I needed it.
Flynn moved closer. "You think I give two shits about the money?"
"Well, you must, since you're acting so crabby about it."
His jaw clenched. "I said, 'forget the money.'"
Actually, that wasn't exactly how he'd put it the first time, but that was beside the point. I replied, "That's easy for you to say."
"Oh yeah? Why?"
"Because you're richer than Midas. So of course, it's easy for you to forget."
Me? Not so much.
His gaze darkened, and that all-too-familiar edge crept into his voice. "You're wrong. I haven't forgotten a thing."
My face burned with the obvious implication. Back in high school, I'd been rich, and he'd been poor. We hadn't been friends, not even close. But we did have a history.
Now, I was so far beneath him, I might as well lick his boots and be done with it.
He'd probably like that.
Anything to make me grovel, right?
Now, I didn't know what to say. I gave a loose shrug and tried to look like I didn't feel like crying – not because of anything that had happened here in the restroom, but rather because all of this had gotten so darn complicated.
Like a total idiot, I'd actually developed feelings for him.
Flynn stepped closer. "I'm just saying, the world is full of assholes. If you're too nice, you're gonna get hurt."
As if I didn't know.
I forced a laugh. "What do you care? You hate me."
He frowned. "What?"
"Oh, please. Don't bother denying it. You said so yourself." With a useless shrug, I mumbled, "In so many words, anyway."
"That's what you think?" He looked at me like I was crazy. "That I hate you?"
I forced another laugh, this one more bitter than the first. "Of course that's what I think. I mean, you haven't exactly bothered to hide it."
But already, he was shaking his head. "You're wrong."
I scoffed, "Sure I am."
His expression softened. "Anna—"
"Oh, c'mon, Flynn…" I made a show of looking around the empty restroom. "Even that whole scene of you busting in to rescue me. We both know it was all for show."
He was still looking at me like I'd lost my mind. "For show? You serious?"
"Of course I’m serious." Even though we were alone, I lowered my voice. "I mean, it's not like we're really together."
Something in his gaze flickered, but he made no reply. It was true that over the last few months, we'd had our moments – public kisses that felt a little too real, smoldering looks that made me weak in the knees, and then, there'd been that time in his car, when we'd come dangerously close to making the fiction a reality.
Even now, I could still feel his fingers and taste his tongue. At the memory, heat flooded my face. I could even feel his erection, massively huge in my eager hands.
We hadn't been naked, but things had been careening pretty hard in that direction – until reality slapped me in the face.
Who knows, maybe I was stupid, because too many times to count, especially over the last week, I'd found myself falling hard under his spell, just like every other girl in the world.
But now, I couldn’t help but stiffen at the recollection of how even this latest week had ended, with a screaming match on his front lawn.
It hadn't been me screaming. It hadn't even been Flynn. Still, that didn't make it any less troubling, especially when the paparazzi showed up to capture and replay the whole sordid scene.
Over and over.
The coverage hadn't been favorable, to me in particular. No surprise there, considering that in the eyes of the world, I was responsible for breaking up the world's most perfect couple.
Flynn's voice interrupted my thoughts.
"What is it?"
I blinked away the memories. "What's what?"
"Just now," he said. "What were you thinking?"
I'd been thinking of how cringe-worthy it had been when his ex – who also happened to be his costar – had claimed in front of the assembled reporters that she and Flynn had still been together when he'd hooked up with me. And what did that make me? The loathsome harpy he was screwing on the side.
It was a lie, of course – just like everything else.
Flynn had called her on it, too – not that anyone seemed to care. A story was a story, and they'd gotten plenty last night.
In the end, the whole episode had served as yet another reminder that I was just playing a role.
And so was he.
Soon, our arrangement would end, leaving me where, exactly?
More financially secure.
But less happy.
Damn it.
I wasn't even sure why. I mean, we really did loathe each other – most of the time, anyway.
In reply to Flynn's question, all I said was, "I just think you overdid it. I mean, with those guys, that's all."
He moved closer until we were nearly touching. In a dangerously low voice, he said, "Let's get one thing straight. If that happens again, you're not talking me out of it."
"Out of what?"
"Whatever it takes."
I gave him a look. "You don't mean the camera-up-the-ass thing, do you? Because I'm pretty sure that's illegal."
Flynn looked to the floor and made a sound that I couldn’t quite decipher. When he looked up, I saw something that made my breath hitch and my knees go wobbly. It was a look that I'd never seen before – not in real life or on the screen, not even when he'd been gazing soulfully into his costar's famous blue eyes.
At something in his gaze, my pulse quickened, and my palms grew sweaty.
Shit.
In a near panic, I turned away, planning to dash away before I did something stupid.
I never made it.
A hand on my elbow stopped me in mid-motion. When I turned to look, Flynn said, "It's no act."
I shook my head. "What?"
Something in his expression softened. "You think I barged in here because I was looking to put on a show?"
"I, well…" In truth, I didn't have a good answer. Sorting through my muddled thoughts, I said, "Well, I guess it's the kind of thing you might do if we were really together. So, you sort of had to, right?"
"Wrong."
I stared up at him. "What do you mean?"
His voice softened. "You're not the person I thought you were."
He was right. I wasn't. In truth, I never had been.
A bitter scoff escaped my lips. "And you just figured that out?"
"No." His voice grew very quiet. "But there's something I need to say."
"What?"
"I owe you."
I stared in stunned disbelief. That wasn't what he'd told me three months ago.
Far from it.
Chapter 4
Flynn – Three Months Earlier
From inside my darkened car, I frowned toward the dumpy little restaurant, with its wide windows and open shades.
Inside, there she was, Anna Burke, the chick who back in high school had screwed me over to save her own sweet ass.
Her long chestnut-colored hair was coiled tight at the nape of her neck, and she was wearing the ugliest pink dress I'd ever seen.
The dress was pale and plain, with a thin white collar, big lumpy pockets, and a coffee-colored stain down the front.
Aside from the stain, the dress looked surprisingly good on her, hugging her tight curves in ways that would've made me take a second glance, or hell, maybe even a third, if only I didn't know the truth.
If Anna Burke were a cake, she'd be a frosted pile of shit – pretty on the outside and nothing good underneath.
No way I'd be taking a bite of that.
On the upside, she was still a looker, so that was good. She'd need to be for what I had in mind.
From the driver's seat, I watched her for several long moments through the grubby windows of Pinkie's Waffle Palace.
The name was a bad joke.
Yeah, the building's cheap exterior was painted pink. And yeah, the place served waffles. But the restaurant was no palace.
Shit, it wasn't even a hovel compared to the places I dined at these days.
But ten years ago, when Sugar Falls had been my home, eating at Pinkie's might've been a big night out for the likes of me, a guy with no money, no family, and a reputation for being more trouble than I was worth.
Funny, I was still trouble. But these days? I was a different kind of trouble, as Anna would soon find out.
The hard way.
I glanced at the dashboard clock and smiled. It was nearly 2 a.m. Closing time.
Sure, I could've come earlier, but I didn't need the hassle. And I sure as hell didn't need an audience.
Besides, I did like a good waffle. And, as ugly as the place was, that was one thing they did right.
Or so I'd heard.
I cut the engine and stepped out of the car, shutting the driver's side door quietly behind me. I locked it with the remote and didn't look back.
By the time I reached the restaurant's main door, a tall, burly woman in a matching pink dress was just twisting the lock, using a big silver key attached to a waffle-sized key ring.
When she saw me through the glass door, her head jerked back and her eyes widened. Her muffled words carried through the glass. "Oh, my God."
When I smiled, her keyring clattered to the floor.
So far so good.
With a girlish giggle, she dove down and swooped up the keys. And just like that, the door was thrown open quicker than the legs of the last girl I'd fucked.
Funny to think, I used to be a nice guy.
Hell, part of me was still nice. Even after hitting it big, I hadn't forgotten what it was like to be that other guy – the one who was more likely to see a door slammed in his face than thrown open at any hour.
I stepped into the restaurant and gave the waitress another friendly smile. "You're not closing, are you?"
"No." She giggled. "I mean, yes, it is closing time, but…" She leaned forward and said, "I know I shouldn’t do this, but I'm a huge fan." Her eyes were bright, and her smile was wide. "Do you know, I watched Swordplay five times?" Her voice picked up steam. "And I don't mean on video either. I mean at the movies, with popcorn and everything."
Swordplay – it was the second movie in the blockbuster trilogy that had made me famous. The trilogy's final movie was done filming and would be out later this year. The plot was so secret that the movie's title was still a mystery, even to me – not that I cared.
Soon, I'd be done with all that. Hell, I was practically done already, except for the public appearances, and better still, cashing the checks.
The waitress was still giggling. "Not that I can't get popcorn at home. I'm just saying…." She paused to catch her breath. "Wow."
She lowered her voice. "I heard you had a place around here, but I didn’t believe it. I mean, yeah, I believed it. I just didn't think that I'd ever see you." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a cellphone. "You don't care if I take a selfie, do you? If I don't, the kids'll never believe me in a million years."
And this is why I came at closing time.
The restaurant wasn't completely empty, but the few remaining customers contented themselves with merely staring as the waitress sidled close to me and took three selfies in a row before stepping back to tell me that she was my biggest fan.
She used a lot of words to say it. Somewhere in the middle, she used the one word I hated on general principle.
Love.
There'd been a time when I might've gotten off to hear someone gush about much they loved me. But the truth was, my fans didn't love me. They loved my character.
Or maybe they loved to hate him.
Either way,
it had been a long time since I'd been able to go anywhere without causing a scene.
Still, I was a good sport. Without millions of fans like her, it might be me working a shitty graveyard shift.
If I was lucky.
And it wasn't lost on me that the waitress was probably working the shift to support those kids she had waiting at home. On this basis alone, she was a better mom than mine had ever been.
I let her talk, using the time to take in my surroundings. Was there a back exit?
Probably.
Had Anna bolted?
I didn't think so.
But she was making herself scarce.
Finally, the waitress said, "Oh, my God. I'm standing here blabbering when you probably came in to eat, right?" She laughed. "I mean, why else would you be here?"
She looked over her shoulder and hollered out toward the kitchen, "Don't you dare shut down the grill! We've got a bona-fide V.I.P. out here!" With that, she made a grand sweeping gesture toward the double row of ugly pink booths. "Have a seat. I'll grab a menu, get you fixed up in a jiffy."
I looked toward the booths. Ten minutes ago, a certain someone had been wiping down the seats of those booths. Now, that someone was gone.
Hiding?
That was my guess.
I gave a silent scoff. Good luck with that.
"Actually," I said, "an old friend of mine works here. I figured I'd sit in her section, maybe say hi."
The woman's face lit up with another smile. "You mean Anna? You two are friends? Seriously?"
I smiled back. "We're something."
"Wow." The waitress shook her head. "She never told me. That little scamp."
Scamp? That's not what I'd call Anna Burke, but then again, this was a family-friendly establishment, at least according to the sign on the door.
The waitress glanced around, and her smile faded. "She was here just a minute ago." Brightening, she said, "But never mind. I'll find her for you." She pointed toward a booth near the back. "Take that one. It's the best in the house."
From the looks of it, that wasn't saying much.
Still, I ambled to the booth and sat. And then I waited for the chick who was going to do my bidding.
Even if she didn't know it yet.
Chapter 5
Flipping His Script: A Loathing to Love Romance Page 2
