Billionaire Baby Daddy: A Second Chance Romance

by Lara Swann

  Yes, that’s what I’m furious about.

  That’s why I’m seeing red right now, and something deep inside me feels torn apart, and my pulse is pounding through my me whole body.

  Fuck. Him.

  “…Cassie?”

  It takes me a moment to realize Mark is looking at me, concerned, and I try to rein in the surging emotions enough to shake my head.

  “No, I’m fine. It’s okay…” I give him a very forced smile, and know that he picks up on it.

  But that’s okay too. Because that’s part of the act Josh and I are playing.

  We’ve been having pretend arguments all day.

  But when he’s done with that stupid game…

  Then I’ll show him a real one.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Josh

  We win.

  Of course we do.

  I crow about it for a good five minutes, and then turn to meet Cassie to the side of the makeshift ‘pitch’.

  “I won.” I announce, making my voice as smug as possible and deliberately ignoring the fact it was a team game.

  I smirk and wait for her to fire back with an insult of some kind. It’s been unexpectedly fun to spar with her like this today. The sort of thing that, if we weren’t trying to make it antagonistic, would easily have led to other forms of passion.

  And maybe they still will tonight.

  I eye the love bite on her neck, feeling the same thrill I have all day at the idea that I put it there. Marked her. Owned and possessed her, if only for a few brief hours.

  But when I meet her eyes, the heat we’ve been playing with all day is gone.

  She’s cold as fuck.

  “What the fuck have you been playing at, Josh?!” She hisses at me, and she’s even attempting to keep it quiet.

  I frown.

  What’s she doing now?

  Cassie isn’t usually the one to start some new thread in our act.

  “Soccer?” I suggest innocently enough, having nowhere else to go with this and knowing it’s sure to piss her off.

  It always does when I say shit like that for fun.

  Her face turns red, and I see her fists clench by her side. Damn, she’s really getting into this.

  “Fuck you, bastard.” She curses me, and now I’m actually starting to get annoyed.

  “Okay, what are you actually talking about?” I fold my arms across my chest, bored of the tirade that’s giving me no clues where to take it.

  “The girl. Nikki. How the hell did you think that was okay?!” She grinds it out, and a stab of unease shoots through me.

  I glance around and see we’ve attracted a bit of attention, even if she is keeping her voice down.

  I’m supposed to pretend…what? That I’ve been fooling around with someone else?

  I don’t like the idea of that. Even if it’s fake.

  And I’m more than a little pissed that she thinks she can just shit on my integrity for her own gain, just to give her family more reasons to hate me.

  “What? Nothing to say?” She doesn’t give me a chance to say any of that, and her voice is getting louder. “I know you do whatever the hell you want, Josh, and fuck knows it’s not like you’re actually committed to me. None of this is real. But there’s a time. And a place. And could you not fucking keep it in your pants for One. Fucking. Week.”

  She’s right up against me now, vibrating with anger, and poking my chest with every point she makes.

  I’m not even stopping her.

  I’m just staring.

  She’s talking about our fake relationship. Openly.

  Oh fucking shit.

  This is real.

  She actually thinks…

  “What—no.” I try to say. “I haven’t—”

  But I’m already miles behind in this argument, and I feel I’m grasping at straws trying to catch up.

  “Oh, fuck you, Josh. You were supposed to be here to help me. To support me. Not fucking get yourself laid with one of Beth’s skeezy friends!” She’s far too loud now.

  And I have no idea what she’s going to say next. What she might give away.

  I almost don’t care. What she thinks of me right now is tearing me apart far more than the idea that we might give away this stupid act.

  But I am here to help her. And support her.

  So I’m not going to let her wreck it.

  Even if I can only think of one way to get this damn thing through her head.

  “I didn’t fucking fuck that girl!” I yell, already committed to letting everyone hear me.

  The force of it stuns her enough to shut her up for a moment, and I take that opening, hoping like hell she gets the right message here.

  “But of course you would think that, Cassie. God damn it, everything always has to be about you, doesn’t it?” I practically snarl it, my tone becoming contemptuous and dismissive. Talking to her in a way I never have. Hoping she gets it. “Supporting you. Helping you. Don’t you know I have my own fucking life to worry about too, girl?”

  She’s recoiling now, confusion clouding some of her anger as I don’t let up.

  “But no. You insist I come to this shitty family gathering, to celebrate your shitty sister getting engaged to some bastard I’ve never met, and do you even know all the auditions I missed! I could’ve been famous by now, you stupid bitch. And here you are, ungrateful as ever, accusing me of fucking some brain-dead girl I never looked twice at. Well, maybe I should!”

  Cassie isn’t even arguing back, she’s just staring at me with utter horror, her eyes wide and shock written all over her face.

  Adrenaline is surging through me, and I wonder whether I’ve gone too far with all of this, but fuck it, she wanted a performance from me.

  She wanted this to be totally devastating. Something her family would understand she’d need a fucking long time to recover from.

  But she’s not meant to just stand there and take it.

  Well, fuck it. I’m committed.

  “It’d be a damn sight better than sticking here with you.” I add, my voice lowering as it turns harsh and I make it really fucking obvious that we’re doing the break-up now, just in case she hasn’t caught on. “You know what - I’m done with this whole fucking shit-show. It’s over, Cassie.”

  I wait one split-second for a reaction, and when nothing but shell-shocked silence greets me, I turn on my heel.

  I’d wanted something from her - wanted some indication we were in this together - but if she’s not up to it, I can finish it alone.

  “You…you’re just going to leave?!” It comes just as I’m about to walk off, and relief floods through me.

  Finally. She gets it.

  I turn back derisively. “Well, there’s obviously nothing here for me, is there?”

  “You fucking bastard.” She says, her face twisted up with some emotion even I can’t identify. “After everything…you’re just going to walk away. Leave me here - like it all meant nothing to you. What, was it all a lie, asshole?!”

  She hiccups, a sob ripping through her, and it only propels her on. I face her down, but secretly I’m impressed. I didn’t know Cassie could give a performance like this.

  “You’re a fucking actor, Josh, a fucking good one. You take someone in, make them feel you care, make them think that what you feel might actually be real - but it’s not, is it? It never fucking is. None of this has been real to you at all, has it?! As fake as any other stupid fucking act in your life, and now…now you’re just going to go. Like you never cared at all—”

  A flicker of unease shoots through me.

  It’s clever. But it hits way too close to home. Too close to what we were actually doing.

  It’s got that ring of truth that makes it work, but still…

  “You know another word for an actor, Josh? A fucking liar. How long have you been lying to me, huh? Just to get—to get whatever the fuck you want—to get laid…is that it, huh?”

  She’s angry. And upset. Her v
oice is ragged with it, and even though it’s not real…it might be breaking my heart anyway.

  I hope it’s not real.

  Just an act. Just pretend.

  Because all I want to do right now is pull her into my arms and make it all better.

  And I can’t do any of that.

  I shake my head, angrily, going on instinct as I try to work out what the hell is going on. It’s not hard, not with those jibes about my job.

  “You don’t have a clue, Cassie. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. How would you even know what’s real - you, who can’t take the slightest risk without a three-hour conversation, a spreadsheet and a timetable to consult? That’s not how life works, fuck it. And I’m done with it dragging me down.”

  She recoils and I have a moment to wonder if I went too far - too close.

  But those are the traits that - infuriating as they are - I’ve always found adorable about her. And she knows that.

  “I don’t have a clue?! I’m not the one with a string of broken, failed relationships and no idea why they never work out. I never knew why, Josh. Not until now. But fuck it, no wonder you can’t keep a woman for longer than a few months. You’re an asshole, you haven’t got a clue what it really means to care about someone, and you know what - you can fuck off. Feel free, bastard. Why the hell would I want you to stay around any longer?!”

  “You fucking…you don’t understand a fucking thing, Cassie. Stupid, naive girl.” I’m vibrating with anger now - real anger - and I have to stop myself from yelling and cursing some more.

  She’s got tears running down her cheeks and the fiercest expression I’ve seen yet, fists clenched at her sides while she glares at me.

  “Just fucking go.”

  “Gladly. I’m done with this whole fucked up thing.”

  This time when I turn on my heel, I don’t wait for any other response. I don’t wait to see if we’re on the same page.

  I don’t want to.

  This shit got too real, too fast, and I’m spinning with my reaction to it.

  I storm towards the house, call a taxi I can barely be civil enough to order, and shove my shit into a bag.

  Usually I can control myself. I can use my emotions for an act, to play a part. But they never take over. I never get confused about what’s actually real.

  But then I’ve never tried arguing with my best friend, the one who knows every fucking thing about me, while we’re playing ourselves.

  She pushed buttons I didn’t even know I had, and…fucking god damn it.

  I slam a fist against the door jam on the way out of the house, then kick at the ground as I realize I’ve got nothing to do except wait here. For god knows how long.

  Reliving that scene again and again in my mind.

  When I finally calm down enough to stop being pissed at everything she said, an unpleasant weight settles inside me.

  This was meant to be part of the plan.

  Sure, I was hoping not to have to actually do the break up part. And it wasn’t meant to be a day early.

  But I was always going to go through with it if I had to.

  I knew we’d probably have to work the rest of the shit out ourselves, back home, and away from her family.

  So why do I feel like everything has gone terribly wrong?

  I was prepared for our fake relationship to end. But that break-up felt more real than the whole damned thing.

  Everything we said to each other is circling in my head. Unrelenting.

  Does she really think all that shit about me?

  About my relationships. About my job. About…me.

  I try to tell myself she doesn’t. That it’s just an act.

  That this was all part of the plan.

  My plan.

  But I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve fucked it all up.

  I wait for the taxi for a very long time, wondering if Cassie will come after me.

  Even if it’s just to let me know that it’s okay - that this is what she wanted.

  She doesn’t come, though.

  Neither does anyone else.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cassie

  I wake up alone the next morning.

  That shouldn’t be the first thing I notice. It’s not like I’ve been sleeping with Josh for long.

  But it feels…weird not to have him there beside me.

  It feels weird not to have him here at all.

  Like a bad dream. Something that you think is wrong, and false, but you can’t quite wake up from anyway.

  And when my mind jumps to what happened yesterday…my heart twists.

  I’m not even angry anymore - just aching and aching hurt as I replay it again and again, trying to work out what happened. What it means. How I feel.

  I’m so fucking confused.

  And I think I’m almost hungover - dazed and empty after the wretched emotions of yesterday.

  An overwhelming sadness I can’t shake.

  The nagging feeling that I might have lost something very important.

  I rub my eyes, gritty from barely sleeping last night, even after I spent the evening wandering around and around the garden.

  After that furious argument - after our break up - I couldn’t help myself. I took off away from everyone.

  I’d always intended to stay - to put on some sort of show for my family. Wail and despair and curse the world. Break down into a thousand pieces and swear off relationships for good.

  But then, I’d always intended the whole thing to happen today, too.

  None of it has gone to plan. Nothing happened as it was supposed to.

  It wasn’t meant to feel so…real.

  I wasn’t meant to get so angry and upset and hurt.

  After all that, I couldn’t even face my family. Couldn’t possibly add trying to pretend something on top of that.

  Though I doubt I even needed to. The whole thing was far too fucking raw to need any additional convincing.

  I wince again as I think of how personal it became.

  The things he said.

  I haven’t been able to get those thoughts out of my head.

  Can’t take a risk without a three-hour conversation…everything always has to be about you…ungrateful as ever…I’m done…Done.

  Done. Done. Done.

  I press my hands to my eyes, trying to shut it out.

  I keep trying to tell myself he didn’t mean it. That it was an act. That he’s really fucking good at pretending. But when he said all that stuff…it rang true.

  You infuriate me enough without even trying…I can think of dozens of reasons…dozens of reasons…

  And now I know some of them.

  I groan again, dragging myself miserably out of bed.

  It wasn’t just on him, either. I lashed out right back. Hurt and angry and caught in the middle of so much confusion about what the hell we were doing.

  Whether he really meant what he was saying.

  What had started as a good thing to counter with, a clever act…twisted into something else.

  Somehow, I forgot that it was just supposed to be a pretend argument, and I started fighting for real.

  I knew where all his weak spots were, and I went after them. Deliberately. Wanting to hurt him back.

  God damn it.

  And now…who the fuck knows.

  Our fake relationship is over, of course.

  But our real one? Our friendship?

  I don’t have a clue.

  And instead, I’m just left here, completely desolate.

  It shouldn’t even have mattered - the shit he said. He’s teased me about it all before. I don’t know why I took it so fucking personally. I don’t know why I hit him back so hard.

  And now I just feel empty.

  Missing him, and feeling completely shitty about everything that happened.

  Missing waking up beside him…touching him…kissing him…

  Which doesn’t even make sense. That’s no
t what I should be thinking about.

  But then, this whole week stopped making sense a while ago.

  I force myself to shake it all off, to try and stop obsessing about any of it, and stare at my packed bags with a sigh.

  Eventually, I pull myself together enough to start dragging them downstairs, stalling for another few minutes at the thought of having to face my family.

  I’m so not up to dealing with their shit right now.

  And I have no idea what to say to them, either.

  I managed to avoid it yesterday - spending hours wandering the gardens, trying to sort out my fucked up emotions.

  It didn’t work, but at least I didn’t have to deal with them too.

  And by the time I headed inside, the thought of their last-night takeout - more of a tradition than family soccer has ever been - was enough to turn my stomach. I disappeared to my room without a word instead.

  Maybe I can just slip away with a quick ‘goodbye’.

  Even though this part had been the whole point of having Josh play my fake boyfriend.

  Stupid fucking idea. Why the hell did he ever go along with it?!

  It’s suspiciously quiet when I get downstairs though, and I frown.

  Usually the leaving-morning cleaning efforts are in full swing by now. Something I’d probably get shit for not being part of already, except that I’m clearly too devastated to help right now.

  Hey, look at that, Josh. Maybe the plan worked.

  The thought brings me no sense of satisfaction.

  Though…no one else appears to be doing anything either.

  I see all the bags packed up by the door, but have to wander through the house before I finally hear them in the dining room.

  On leaving day?

  I push open the door with a frown, and everyone goes silent, turning to look at me.

  Well, you expected that much.

  “Auntie Casss! We’re having pancakes!” Lucas beams up at me, bouncing excitedly on his chair.

  “We…are?” I ask, confusion momentarily overcoming my numbness.

  Maria steps up to me, smiling gently as she wraps an arm around my shoulders.

  “We thought it would be good for you to have a proper breakfast before you head all the way back to LA.” She squeezes my shoulder, and bemused, I take the chair she’s nudging me towards.

  Right in the middle. Of course.