Flipping His Script: A Loathing to Love Romance

by Sabrina Stark

  When I made no reply, she said, "I'm right, aren't I?"

  "Oh suuuuure," I said with as much sarcasm as I could muster. "We're just out having dinner because we hate each other. Is that the way it works?"

  "It is with you two." She gave a mean little laugh. "I mean, he spent more time looking at me than at you."

  "Yeah, because you've been in his face for the past half-hour." I gave a snort of derision. "Except for the time you spent in his crotch."

  She drew back. "I was not in his crotch!"

  "Only because you were interrupted."

  With a toss of her hair, she said, "What are you? Jealous?"

  "Hardly."

  "Wanna know what I think?"

  "No."

  She stepped closer. "I think you're blackmailing him."

  I gave a bark of laughter. Talk about ridiculous. If anything, Flynn had me over a barrel, not the other way around. "You're kidding, right?"

  But Mackenzie wasn't laughing. "I never kid about movie stars."

  Oh, for God's sake. "Well, goodie for you."

  Her eyes narrowed. "I bet you haven't even kissed him."

  Once again, the comment hit a little too close to home. Still, I was determined not to show it. "So let me get this straight. You think I’m blackmailing him to spend time with me?" I tried for a scoff. "With what, exactly?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well…" I said in my overly patient voice, "when you blackmail someone, you've got to threaten something, right?" I gave her a stiff smile. "So in this little scenario of yours, what exactly am I holding over his head?"

  "I don't know." she said. "But I promise you this. I'm going to find out." She gave me a long speculative look. "I bet it has something to do with his arrest in high school."

  I tensed. She was correct, but not in the way she thought.

  At something in my expression, she said, "See? You know something. I can tell."

  Oh, I knew something, all right. She was getting dangerously close to the truth. Still, I replied, "Well, I guess you've got it all figured out, huh?" And with that, I turned and headed toward the main restroom door just as two other women walked in.

  This totally sucked.

  My little excursion had been all for nothing. I hadn't used the facilities. I hadn't washed my hands. I hadn't even gotten a moment alone. What a total waste.

  Mackenzie followed after me, calling out, "You know I remember that day, when he was dragged off. We laughed about it, remember?"

  My steps faltered, and I turned around. Technically, Mackenzie had been the only one laughing.

  As for myself, I'd been horrified.

  I still was.

  I glared at her. "Wanna know what I think?"

  "What?"

  "I think, now that he's rich and famous, you'd probably lick his boots if he gave you half the chance."

  "I would not!" She glanced away. "And besides, he's not wearing boots. He's wearing regular shoes."

  "I guess you'd know," I said, "since you spent so much time under the table."

  She gave another smirk. "Hey someone had to."

  I didn't get it. "What do you mean?"

  "I'm just saying, it's pretty obvious that you're not really together."

  And here we'd come. Full circle.

  The two women were staring and not bothering to hide it. Mackenzie turned to them and snapped, "Don’t you have to piss or something?"

  That was Mackenzie all right, classy to the end, even as the women scurried into a couple of stalls and slammed the doors shut behind them.

  From outside the main restroom door, I could hear the clink of dishes and the hum of voices. It was just another reminder that I wasn't here to make nice with Mackenzie. I was here because I had a part to play, even if I was doing a sorry job of it.

  Regardless of how I felt, it was long past time for me to step up my game. Mackenzie was correct that I hadn't kissed him. I hadn't even held his hand or given him a hug for cripe's sake.

  But I could kiss him. It would mean nothing, of course, especially to him.

  He'd been very clear about that.

  I looked to Mackenzie and said, "Are you done?"

  "Not hardly."

  "Too bad," I said. "Because I am." And then, I turned and pushed through the main restroom door, only to stop in my tracks when I saw Flynn leaning against the nearby wall.

  His hands were in his pockets, and his expression was as dark as I'd ever seen it – even in the movies just before a good old-fashioned lopping.

  I knew exactly why he was here, too. He was here to remind me that I was being paid to do a job and that I was failing miserably.

  As if I needed another reminder.

  Behind me, I could hear Mackenzie pushing her way through the same door that I'd just come through. She was still talking. "You know you're not fooling anyone."

  It was then that I did the unthinkable.

  I lunged forward and threw myself into Flynn's arms. In the sexist voice I could muster, I said, "There you are." I hesitated. "Honey."

  Chapter 40

  Flynn

  Oh yeah. I was here all right. And I was royally ticked.

  Still, I wrapped her in my arms and acted like I didn't feel like telling her where she could take that act of hers.

  I didn't mean her current act. I meant the innocent one, which yeah, I'd come dangerously close to believing.

  Good thing for me, I'd just gotten a good kick in the ass – the mental kind, not the physical.

  Mackenzie's words – the ones I'd just overheard – rang in my head. "I remember that day, when he was dragged off. We laughed about it, remember?"

  An icy coldness settled over my heart. Yeah, I remembered, too. I'd been in calculus minding my own business when a bunch of cops had busted in and dragged me away like I was number-one on the F.B.I's Most Wanted.

  I hadn't learned why until hours later, when – thanks to a sorry-ass public defender – I'd finally discovered how much trouble I was in.

  For years, I'd known that Anna Burke was the cause. But until just a moment ago, I didn't realize it was all one big joke.

  Ha fucking ha.

  But hey, I acted for a living, right? And, as I reminded myself, I'd picked Anna Burke for a reason. She was disposable, just like I'd been to her all those years ago.

  When she lifted her head and pressed her lips to mine, I fought a moment of revulsion before giving in to the sweetness of her lips and the feel of her tight little body pressed dangerously close to my own.

  She was good. I had to give her that.

  She was trembling against me, whether with nerves or feigned lust. As far as the specifics, I didn't know, and I didn't care.

  In the car, I'd told her that it was up to her – PDAs, or whatever the hell she'd called it.

  That's right. Public displays of affection.

  Now, anyone could see that she'd thrown herself against me. Not to be outdone, I yanked her tighter against my pelvis and let my hands roam down her back. Her dress was thin, and her skin was warm.

  When my body responded, it was no surprise. I'd never had any problems in that department, and hell if I'd bother controlling it now. If she could feel my erection, she could deal with it – or not.

  She tasted sweet, like red wine and cherries and smelled like powder or lilacs or some other flowery thing. I didn't know, and I didn't care. She wasn't my first kiss, and she sure as hell wouldn’t be my last.

  But the kiss would be memorable, that's for damn sure.

  For the first time in my life, I actually got off on kissing someone I hated. For someone who was shaking, she was putting some real effort into it, too – more with every passing moment.

  Or maybe she was just that good.

  When she pulled back, I stared into her hazel eyes, trying to see what exactly had caused this sudden change in behavior. Yeah, I'd overheard Mackenzie expressing her doubts about us being together, but Mackenzie was nobody important, not in my
book, anyway.

  Regardless, I was done.

  This time, I didn't mean with Hollywood. I meant with dinner, done with this place, done with the cuck at the table and his fiancée standing just a few feet away.

  When I looked in Mackenzie's direction, she gaped like I'd just whipped out my cock and waved it in her face.

  Knowing her, she'd probably like that.

  As for myself, all I wanted was to leave. Even so, I'd be smart to give a reason – unless I wanted this whole messed-up outing to be for nothing.

  I looked back to Anna, who was still in my arms. With her hands laced around the back of my neck, she was staring up at me like I'd just given her a dozen roses and chocolates, too. Her skin was flushed, and her eyes were bright. She looked too sweet and too innocent by half.

  Now that was a joke.

  Working like hell to hide my disgust, I looked once again to Mackenzie. She was still staring, so I figured, "What the hell. Why not make use of that fact?"

  I looked back to Anna and said loud enough for Mackenzie to hear, "So, you wanna get out of here now?"

  But it wasn't Anna who answered. It was Mackenzie, who protested, "But we're not done with dinner."

  Maybe she wasn't. But I was. Hell, I had food at home – or even better, the knowledge of several drive-throughs along the way, where I could pick up a burger with only half the grief.

  Still, I gave Mackenzie my best movie star smile. "Sorry, Babe, but I've got to get my girl home."

  Mackenzie hustled forward and gave me a pleading look. "But why?"

  I smiled again. "Because, the way I hear it, I'm gonna fuck her brains out on the kitchen table." I felt like a slime-bag for saying it, but hey, I had my own part to play in this mess.

  In my arms, Anna stiffened, but she didn't let go.

  Deliberately, I leaned closer to her and said none too quietly, "That is what you whispered, wasn't it?"

  Before Anna could answer, Mackenzie said, "Oh come on! That's not even creative!"

  True. But when I got creative, I preferred actions to words. More to the point, I preferred partners who were worth the effort.

  Anna wasn't it.

  When I made no reply, Mackenzie sidled closer to me and said, "I'm just saying, I'd be a lot more creative than that." She made a show of licking her lips. "Have you ever done it on the washing machine? I mean, when it's running?"

  What the ever-loving fuck?

  With a hard look, I said, "Is that an invitation?"

  She smiled. "Well, um, yeah."

  Anna pulled away and whirled to face Mackenzie. "Oh yeah? Well…" Anna paused. "Maybe he doesn't have a washing machine. You ever think of that?"

  I shoved a hand through my hair. Way to tell her, Anna.

  Mackenzie's chin lifted. "It doesn't matter, because I do." She glanced in the general direction of our booth. "I mean, Preston does." She looked to me and tried for another smile. "And he doesn't mind, really."

  She was wrong. The guy minded more than he'd admit. But that was his problem, not mine. I looked back to Anna and said, "Wait here. I'm gonna settle the bill." Without waiting for a reply, I turned and strode toward our booth.

  I was gonna settle up all right – first with the restaurant, and then with Anna.

  One way or another.

  Chapter 41

  Anna

  By the time Flynn disappeared from sight, Mackenzie had already pulled out her cell phone and was scrolling through whatever. Why she wasn't returning to the booth, I had no idea.

  I had no intention of asking her either. She was making an obvious point to act like I wasn't even here, which was fine by me.

  I'd had more than enough of her already.

  Plus, I was still a little breathless from that mind-blowing kiss. Turns out, Flynn Archer was a terrific kisser, too terrific if I knew what was good for me.

  Sure, maybe he'd been a little stiff at first, but the stiffness down below had been a sure sign that I wasn't the only one who'd felt the effects of our impromptu embrace.

  And aside from that, I couldn’t help but feel at least a little grateful for the fact we were finally leaving.

  Maybe he hadn't intended to rescue me, but right now, I felt like he'd just saved me from a burning building – or in this case, a raging dumpster fire. Even that crack about doing it on his kitchen table – it had been a joke, obviously, even if it had caught me off-guard.

  I was just debating whether or not to thank him for the rescue when a sudden snicker made me turn to look.

  When I did, I caught a clear view of Mackenzie's phone. On its screen was an image that literally made me gasp. It was – I kid you not – a selfie of Mackenzie hunkered down under the table with Flynn's crotch in the background.

  What the hell?

  I mean, who does that?

  But the answer came in a flash. Mackenzie does, that's who.

  On instinct, I lunged toward her, snatched the phone out of her grip, and made a mad dash for the restroom.

  From behind me, she yelled, "Hey! What are you doing?"

  I was returning Flynn's favor, that's what.

  I pushed through the restroom door, dodged the two women who'd been on their way out, and made straight for the nearest stall.

  I locked it behind me and almost smiled. Safe.

  A split second later, Mackenzie was pounding on the door. "If you flush it," she yelled, "I'm gonna sue you for everything you've got."

  What a joke.

  Didn't she know? I had nothing.

  And besides, like I'd ever flush a phone. Would it even go down? I highly doubted it.

  I called back, "Yeah, well, good luck with that." Quickly, I turned my attention to the phone. The stupid image was still on the screen. But not for long. One quick deletion and it was gone forever.

  I unlocked the stall door and emerged smiling in triumph even as Mackenzie demanded, "What did you do?"

  When I didn't answer, she eyed the phone with obvious suspicion, but made no move to reclaim it. With a look of disgust, she said, "You didn't wipe yourself with it, did you?"

  Well, that wasn't disturbing or anything.

  But hey, let her think what she wanted. I slapped the phone into her open palm and marched out with my head held high.

  She didn't follow.

  I was glad, especially when I spotted Flynn waiting in the same spot as before, looking just as grim as he had the first time around.

  But I didn't mind. Suddenly, he felt like a kindred spirit. Somehow, we'd survived a public dinner together. That was something, right?

  I hesitated. Did it count if we hadn't eaten?

  Probably, that was a question for another time.

  For now, I was just glad that we were leaving. Smiling with relief, I said, "Ready?"

  He didn't smile back. He didn't even reply. But he did put an arm over my shoulders, guiding me through the crowd as we headed out the door.

  To my surprise, it was raining buckets. Just like so many other things tonight, it hadn't been in the forecast.

  In spite of the downpour, Flynn made no move to hurry as we walked toward his car. Warmed by his embrace, neither did I, not even when rolling thunder sounded in the distance.

  As we moved, I could feel his muscles shifting against my side, reminding me how blissful it had felt to be held in his arms and pulled tight against him. And that mind-blowing kiss. Even now, thoughts of it were distracting me to no end.

  But I was determined not to show it. Talking louder than normal to be heard over the rain, I said, "So did Preston mind that we were leaving?"

  Without breaking stride, Flynn replied, "No."

  "You know what's weird?" I said. "I'm kind of surprised that Mackenzie didn't go back to the booth. Did he ask where she was?"

  "Yeah. He asked."

  "And what did you tell him?"

  "I told him to get off his dead ass and find her himself."

  My hair was already soaked, but I couldn't stop myself from laugh
ing. "You didn't."

  "I did."

  "What did he say to that?"

  "Nothing. The guy's a pussy."

  By the time we reached his car, I was soaked nearly to my skin, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I felt warm and happy for reasons that made no sense whatsoever.

  Dinner had been a disaster, and I probably looked like a drowned rat. Still, I leaned into him and asked, "How about the waitress? Did she think it was weird that we weren't staying to eat?"

  Abruptly, Flynn pulled away. "Does it matter?"

  I looked up, meeting his gaze. "Well…I'm just curious, that's all."

  "Trust me. She wasn't complaining."

  Knowing Flynn, he'd given her a huge tip for the trouble. I said, "Oh. Well that's good."

  As our gazes held, I felt my stomach clench with an emotion that I couldn’t quite decipher. Nerves? Or something else.

  His hair was dripping wet, and his eyes were just as stormy as the weather. In the dim light of the parking lot, he looked like a fallen angel, ready to drag me away to God knows where.

  And heaven help me, I almost wanted to go.

  His gaze dipped to my lips, and he leaned achingly close. In a quiet voice, he said, "And we're done talking."

  I blinked. "What?"

  "You and me. You can cut the act. We're at the car."

  Startled, I drew back. "Oh. Right."

  With cold silence, he opened the passenger's side door and waited for me to get in before shutting it behind me.

  As he circled around the front of the vehicle, I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. Did he think that I was coming onto him?

  Was that it?

  I bit my lip. Was I coming onto him?

  No. Definitely not.

  I mean, we didn't even like each other.

  And yet, for a moment there, it had felt like things between us had thawed at least a little. Had I only imagined it? Even now, I wasn't sure.

  Regardless, the happy glow was officially gone, washed away not by the rain, but by whatever was irking him.

  I waited until he got into the car to ask, "Is something wrong?"

  "Yeah," he said. "You're still talking."

  From the passenger's seat, I stared in absolute shock. By now, all of the warm feelings, not to mention the effects of that incredible kiss, were a distant memory.