Pretending not to hear her, I rolled over. Those three little words made my spine tingle. She loved me? How? She couldn’t possibly mean it. I liked her. A lot. I thought about her even when we were not together and I was certainly enjoying the sex. But this wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. Could it? I know I had said it to the guys earlier, but I also said I wasn’t sure. It hadn’t been long enough.
It was mumbled and she was asleep, but still, it counted, right? The sounds of the city kept me company through the night. Was this getting too deep? At some point, it needed to end. My condo felt small, claustrophobic. The urge to run and escape was crawling up my skin. Sweat started to bead around my forehead as I laid in the darkness. I got out of bed, careful not to wake April. I couldn’t handle all the questions right now. Then tiptoed out, careful not to creak the door. I padded my way down the hallway and into the kitchen, filling up a tall glass of ice-cold water and downing it, hoping to cool the burning sensation coursing through my body. Breathe. I was spiraling.
When that didn’t work, I went and stood out on the balcony. The breeze from the penthouse was refreshing and Ilet my lungs fill with the cool air as my breathing finally steadied into a semi-regular rhythm. My thoughts swirled around the last few weeks and how things had gone. In all of the conversations, I couldn’t recall either of us ever bringing up ahow to end thingsconversation. We had plenty of debates on whether it would or could work, how to make it work, and yet, not one on how to end it.
I replayed last night. The trench coat. It was all surreal. I’d gone too far. My feelings for her have grown, but was this something that could be more? We agreed to a situationship but this was spinning out of control. I wasn’t good at relationships. There was too much pressure. The beauty of our fake dating was there was none of that. But this was beginning to feel more real and that could jeopardize our careers. Hers more than mine.
Sure the guys knew, but if the rest of the team found out, we’d be in hot water. But if we came clean, confessed it was fake and we had been lying, well, that would be worse. Carlos would really have it out for me. Why the hell hadn’t I really thought this through? Desperation.She’d voiced the concerns and I’d brushed them off. Because that was what I did.
When the morning light finally came, I sat at the edge of the bed, waiting for April to wake. We needed to talk. To figure out our next steps and how to end things without making a fuss. If we waited too much longer, it would all blow up.
I reached over and gently swiped the underside of her arm. I watched her smile turn into a grin.
“Morning,” she whispered, her voice still full of sleep.
“Hey, I know it’s early but I’m going for a run.”
“Okay,” she replied lazily.
I hesitated for a moment, closing my eyes, before letting the next part slip out. “When I get back, we should have a chat.”
Her eyes flew open and she bolted upright. “What’s up?”
Calmly, as if that was going to help the bundle of nerves being lit inside me, I said, “Nothing, I just think we should start talking about how to end things.”
She blinked at me, as if she was trying to decode what I had said. Her mouth opened and closed, then she abruptly stood up. Her foot tangled in the sheet and she fell forward. I reached out, but her hand caught the side table and she managed to straighten up.
“April… I…”
She twirled toward me with a flash of burning anger in her eyes. But she took a deep breath, and simply said, “No need to talk about it.”
My turn to blink. “What?”
She stormed to the drawer I had given her to keep stuff, so she wouldn’t have to always carry it with her, and yanked out shorts and a tank. She shoved her legs into her shorts and threw on the tank top. “Don’t worry about it. Consider it done.”
“April, I didn’t mean now.”At least, I didn’t think I did.
“Why drag it out?” Her eyes narrowed at me. “You brought it up, right? Which means you had been thinking about it.”
I swallowed harshly, making my Adams apple bob. “It’s just that, your Papi’s party was weeks ago and I, well…the guys?—”
“You’re right.” She cut me off. “Thanks for the service. You’re free.” She spun on her heel and out of the bedroom door.
Free? What am I, the freaking genie?I went after her. “April, let’s talk about it. I don’t mean right now.”
She raised up her chin, collected her clothes strewn across the floor, and balled them up. “Let’s not. We both got what we needed and now it’s over. The show last night probably sealed the deal for your bet, right?”
Her words sounded like venom to me. When I didn’t answer, she knew it did.
“Then, we’re done.” She sounded like a robot. Zero emotions. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but this certainly wasn’t it. I reached out to grab her and she moved out of reach. She scooped her heels into her hand, not even bothering to put them on. “You wanted it over, it’s over. Super simple. No need to talk about it. No drama. No fuss.”
“So, that’s it then?”Maybe I wanted a little drama.This was unnatural. Maybe a scene, an argument? To be honest, I hadn’t thought about this part. Was just saying it’s over and walking away the way to do it? It was odd and it felt like the opposite of relief in breaking up.
“Yup.” She turned and reached for the knob of the front door and somehow, I was now angry.
“Why are you so eager to walk away?” I demanded.
“Excuse me?” She paused mid-stride.
