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“With flowers?” I asked. I picked them up, noticing how Lance was completely stiff, following me with his eyes while barely any other part of him moved. He was ready to fight me, I figured.
As much as I would’ve liked to pop his pencil head out of that turtleneck and toss him around a little, I’d let it be his call. Right now, I was too busy doing detective work to start throwing fists.
“I’m allowed to give flowers to my friend,” Lance said. “And you two are only pretending to be together, according to Belle. You don’t need to play the part of jealous fiancé with me, pal.”
“Woah,” I said. “You told this asshole? And did you just call me “pal?” Nobody calls me pal, champ.”
Belle looked at me like I’d just smeared dog shit on her rug. “All I told him was that he sounded like some crazy conspiracy theorist for guessing that. But good job, Chris. And thanks for assuming the worst of me.”
“Oh,” I said. “Okay. Yes, Belle and I are officially pretending. But behind the scenes? The sexual tension between us is off the charts, so-”
“Chris!” Belle snapped.
Lance turned to face me now. He was still stiff in that tell-tale way guys got when seventy percent of their brain was devoted to the idea of finding an opening to start swinging. “I don’t care who you are,” he said. “Belle barely knows you, and I’m sure you know nothing about her. You probably don’t even know that she cheats at hide and seek or that she always wishes she ordered what you ordered at restaurants. I bet you don’t even know her birthday.”
I waited patiently for him to finish. “Yeah? And I bet you don’t know what she sounds like when she comes all over your cock. Or how it feels when she’s got her lips-”
Belle physically put herself between us, pushing me back from Lance, like that would help. “You’re making an ass of yourself.” She was speaking quietly, just to me.
I took another look at Lance. Lance. What kind of name was that, anyway? It was like someone had built him to be punched, and not punching him was violating a cosmic law. But the little woman with the wild, “I just got out of bed” hair in front of me didn’t want me to.
“Alright. But he needs to go. Now. Until I get my contract, you’re mine, Belle. I don’t care who he is or what there might be between you. You are my fiancée. My wife-to-be. Got it?”
I thought she might slap me for a second, but she nodded, eyes glinting with anger. “Yeah. Got it. Now please go. I’ll see you at the airport, and I’ll ask my friend to leave.”
“Should I bring a condom for the flight, or…”
Belle stuck her arm out, pointing toward the door. “You should go before I decide to sabotage this entire thing just to spite you.”
“Fair point. And if I don’t see him walking out of the building within a minute, I’m coming back up.”
“Chris. Just go.”
I tried to figure out how I’d become the bad guy as I headed down the stairs. Was it the jealous rage? Was it the part where I basically told her she was my property? Or maybe it was the question about the condom for our flight.
By the time I got outside, I’d come to the conclusion that I had probably handled about every angle of the encounter wrong, starting with the decision to pick her lock and let myself in.
I slid down against the wall outside her building, grunting as my leg reminded me it still wasn’t fully recovered. I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. Fuck. At times, being an idiot was fun. This was not one of those times. I wasn’t even that kind of guy. Since when did I get jealous? When did I become that asshole who assumes the worst in people, screwing everything up in the process?
I guessed it was one of the hazards of actually liking a woman—of feeling a sense of investment in things working out. Ironically, it was that exact investment that had pushed me over the edge so easily.
Normally, a screw up of this proportion would be my signal to cut my losses and move on. A woman wasn’t worth the headache, I’d tell myself. There were literally millions more out there who I’d have a clean slate with.
But this time I didn’t want to cut my losses. I wanted to find a way to make it up to her, even if it meant degrading myself or doing the unthinkable and apologizing.
I got back to my feet with a sigh. I’d find a way to make it up to her. But since I was planning to atone for my sins, I figured I might as well do one last jealous, shitty act. I waited outside her building until Lance came out. He spotted me, so I flashed him the double birds and let him know I was going to enjoy taking Belle all over Europe, euphemism intended.
