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I swallow down the guilt and embarrassment, and let out what hopefully sounds like a careful chuckle. “Together? Jenny, you know I’m too young to settle down.” I glance back up at Cece. “Why are you so surprised? You knew our deal, boss.”
“Our deal? Our deal!” she screams, throwing the box of medicine at me. “What the hell, Maddox? I thought … you said this was different. What was all that talk about being the real you and how—” Her words cut off. Her hand comes up, first to her forehead, then her mouth. Complete shock taking over her.
I bite the inside of my cheek, and I think I draw blood. I do everything in my power to keep an arrogant smirk over my face.
“Was—” Cece starts, but closes her eyes, trying to get the words out. “Was anything ever real?”
I don’t know how to respond to that. If I say no, it’d undoubtedly ends it all. That’s what’s supposed to happen. But I can’t bring myself to say it. Instead, I swallow and shrug my shoulders.
It’s like we’re all frozen in the room. Cece in shock, myself in fake indifference, and Jenny confused. I don’t know how this is going to end. All I know is that it has to. I have to put the proverbial nail in the coffin.
I try to think about what I might have said a few months ago. What would the King of Bad do?
“It was fun, Cece, but that’s all it was … Fun. Hey, if you want, I’m down for a threesome tonight.”
Jenny lets out a loud scoff. Cece keeps her hateful gaze locked on me. Then she spins around and heads out of the room.
“Were you two dating?” Jenny asks.
There’s complete skepticism across her face for a moment. When I don’t give her a quick answer, the look turns to hesitancy.
“She thought we were,” I reply.
“Wait, if you knew that, then why did you call—”
Her voice shuts off, and when I glance back at her, she’s staring at me like she doesn’t recognize me. If I was looking in a mirror, I’d probably have the same expression on my face. No, that’s not true. I’d know exactly who’d be looking at me. A rock star who is more interested in partying than falling in love.
“Oh my God,” she whispers with her hand over her mouth. “Did you … Please don’t tell me you called me here tonight for this.”
It’s time to pull the Band-Aid off of this gushing wound. It’s not helping anyway. Lifting my shoulders, I smirk. “I’m still down to have some fun if you are.”
She slaps me across the face. It’s not hard, and I think she does it more out of shock than anything else, but it stings. Not the physicality of it but everything that’s behind it.
“I always knew you were the bad boy. I never knew you were actually an asshole.”
She marches toward the door, swinging it open, and slams it shut.
