Chapter 1
“I don’t like anything about you,” I say to Greyson Cress who is clearly the one who doesn’t like anything about me. “You are such an asshole.”
He laughs under his breath, so I explain, “You are closed-minded, selfish, and condescending. I see right through you.”
“Then what the fuck do you want?” he says in a harsh tone. I clearly hit a nerve, and I’m glad to have offended him. Maybe he’s not as emotionless as I think with his glistening gray eyes and wavy brown hair.
“Does anything nice come out of your mouth?” I tilt my head at him.
His eyes smile as he looks at me. I don’t like being under his gaze. When his eyes flick to my mouth, my stomach churns.
“I’m no Matthew Pearson,” he snaps.
I suck in my bottom lip. His eyes look back down. He is no Matthew Pearson. He’s Greyson Cress, every single girl’s reason for rushing to the hockey games. He’s easily the hottest guy on the Honey Badger hockey team… and the most available, if you know what I mean. He’s the perfect one-night stand, a great hookup from what I hear. If you need him – as long as you have a vagina – he’s all yours.
He asks, “What do you want, Miss Too Good For Me?”
I sigh, holding in my shaky nerves. Every bit of him makes my insides squeeze. I can’t stand that he sleeps around or that he has the confidence of a shark swimming through a school of fish. He’s like one of those bobbleheads that love to bobble. Right now, I feel like I’m about to tap on his head.
He lifts a brow, waiting. “You wouldn’t be talking to me if you didn’t need something, so what the fuck is it?”
This is true. I inhale when he swears. I clutch at the necklace resting on my chest, deciphering if this is actually a good idea. It could be the worst idea I’ve ever had, and my anger has convinced me otherwise. I don’t need to tap on his head. Bobble. Bobble.
He flashes a sarcastic smile in my face. God, this is going to be harder than I realized. I swallow my hesitation. My revenge against Matt Pearson is a lot more important than Greyson’s ridiculous attitude.
“Matt hates you, and I need –“ I am at a loss of words. I don’t even know how I’ve gotten to this moment in time. The guy with the worst reputation has something I need. I would never talk to someone like him otherwise. My boyfriend fucking hates Greyson Cress. He hates him so much that he can’t be in the same room as him. But my boyfriend made a fucking porno with a puck bunny, so I’m in desperate need of revenge.
“You need?” he asks after a few silent beats. “Me… for what?”
I’m playing aggressively with my necklace now, so he glances down at my fidgeting fingers. I feel my face turn crimson because my cleavage is out. It’s cold as ever outside, but I have my puffer unzipped because I feel like I’m on fire in front of him. But a shiver overtakes me when I catch him looking at my chest. Why am I squirming under Greyson’s gaze? I don’t like this man. There’s nothing about him that entices me. I’m so uncomfortable but doing this will be easy. He’s so not my type.
“Do I make you nervous?” he asks in a sarcastic whisper. My eyes lock with his. I stop playing with my necklace. I bet my cheeks are flushed hence his stupid question.
“Have you seen it?” I ask, ignoring his stupid question. He is so full of himself that he has no idea how to read a human’s body language. I am not nervous. Greyson Cress will never make my knees weak.
He bites his lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I hold back my tears, imagining the video of my boyfriend fucking the hell out of that whore. Michelle Swift. She was an acquaintance of mine. A year younger, obviously sexier and hotter than me. She’s beautiful naked with perfect tits and a round bottom, not that I would ever say that out loud. I didn’t even know Matt knew her, but I don’t know why that part matters. Watching him cum inside her was the cherry on top. I thought my anger would start a fire. I had never felt so blazing pissed off in my life.
“The video,” I deadpan.
He shakes his head. “I’m not following.”
“Do you live under a rock?” I snark, not wanting to spell it out for him.
He stares at me, licking his bottom lip. He’s so distracting with his perfect teeth and his perfect jawline. Oh my god, this is what all these women see in him? He’s gorgeous, it’s sickening. But his cockiness and bad attitude waste all his good looks. What a terrible shame it is to be this beautiful and be a huge asshole. Yeah, totally not my type.
He says, “No, I don’t care about stupid shit like that.”
I yank my phone out of my back pocket and tap away at the screen. I find the porn video and press play for him.
He squints at the screen. “That’s Matt?”
I observe Greyson closely as my heart races, not knowing how he’s going to react. I notice the tiny amount of freckles he has on his nose and cheeks just like I do.
Greyson breaks into a genuine smile, and my heart feels like it’s ripping in my chest. Maybe it’s because Greyson finds this funny or it could be the sound of Michelle moaning in the video. Either way, I’m mortified right now. I could quite literally drop dead. It’s like my fresh wound is being cut deeper with a knife from Greyson’s smile. The wider and louder he gets, the deeper it pushes until I’m in so much pain that I can’t handle it anymore. I shove my phone into my back pocket, wiping the tears from my eyes.
When Greyson looks at me, he stops smiling. “Mr. Perfect isn’t so perfect after all.”
I’m shaking, trembling, feeling like I could scream, cry, hide in a cave, and kick someone in the crotch all at the same time.
“What do you need from me, Madison?”
My breath is shaking as I try to calm myself. I can’t let Greyson see how weak I am, but it’s too late because I can’t stop the tears. His eyes give me no pity. He really is heartless. But calling me by my whole name brings me back to reality, back to why I’m even talking to this asshole in the first place. He isn’t my friend, he never has been, never was, and never will be. That’s why he’s calling me Madison and not Maddie. He knows absolutely nothing about me. I don’t think we’ve ever spoken until right now.
“I need…” I begin to say, but I stop again. He waits patiently. I mutter, “Revenge.”
“You wanna fuck?” he asks unsurprised.
I hold my breath at those words. It’s too vulgar, not my thing. My insides twist, not in a good way, they twist like I’m an object he can use. Distaste enters my mouth. I think he sees it on my face but ignores it because he says, “Thanks for the offer but no.”
He takes a step as I say, “I’m not asking for that.”
He turns to me, impatient. “Then what is it because I need to fucking go.”
“A fake boyfriend,” I finally spit out. My eyes are closed because I know how stupid it must sound.
He genuinely laughs like he finds this amusing. “No,” he states and then walks away.
“Greyson,” I plead, opening my eyes and grabbing his arm. His bicep muscle is firm under my palm. He exhales like he’s sick of me and sick of this conversation. Like he’d rather be anywhere else but here.
He shakes his head. “I’m not fucking doing it.”
“Why?” I challenge him. “Are you scared?”
He grinds his teeth, causing his jaw to flex. “You’re like a little girl playing pretend for revenge, and it’s stupid. I’m not scared of anything.” He shakes his head like I’m dumb.
“Stupid?” I ask, disgust at the back of my throat. This asshole thinks he’s so above me, like he didn’t fuck every girl who looked twice at him last year. Like he isn’t the stupid one here. I need to divert this or we’ll both end up arguing about something that doesn’t matter. I don’t need to tell him that I’m not stupid because I already know I’m not. I’m not here to prove anything to him. “What’s stupid is Matt fucking some chick, and you not willing to help me get back at him! That’s what’s stupid. You act like you’re friends with him.”
“There’s nothing in it for me,” he says, impatiently.
I chuckle. “So, I have to sleep with you to get you to agree?”
“I would never fucking sleep with you.”
I gasp like I’m offended. Like that means I’m the ugliest person on campus. Insulting me will get nowhere because I’m fucking persistent. I spit back, “And I would never sleep with you either. That’s not even the point. If you want to prove you’re the better forward, the first thing you do is take his fucking status by chopping down his ego.”
“Nice try, Wilder.” He pats my shoulder like he feels bad for me as he turns to leave.
“Will I see you at the party tonight?” I ask as he walks away without another word. My revenge plan has gone to shit. I need to figure something else out because I need Matt to fucking suffer. I open my phone to text my best friend, and the porn is still on. This time I hear Matt moaning. I close the app and stare at the black screen out of frustration.
When I reach my apartment that I’m renting with three other seniors, my best friend in college, Sydney Lawrence, is waiting patiently to know how my proposal to Greyson went.
I don’t want to get into it, but she can’t help herself. Her bright brown eyes have been waiting for me to walk in through that door. I can probably count the hours that she’s been sitting at that table.
“So?” Sydney asks impatiently. “I texted.”
“Yeah,” I say, clutching my phone. I take my bag off my shoulder. “I just wanted to get home.”
“He said no,” she states without question, watching me carefully. I hate that she can read me like a book. Her laptop is fired up with a dozen tabs open.
“He said no. It doesn’t matter,” I say, sitting across from her. The placemat below me is stained with red wine from last weekend. Sydney is a neat freak, so she wasn’t happy about the stain not coming out in the wash. I think she tried five different methods and then finally gave up. She leans back and says, “Were you convincing enough?”
I close my eyes at her ridiculous question. She laughs in return. I touch the red wine stain and mention, “He made it clear he would never sleep with me.”
She cackles, slamming her laptop shut. “That’s bullshit. What else did he say?”
I hum. “Well, he didn’t know about the video, so I showed him. And… he laughed.”
Sydney gasps. “He laughed?”
“He must find it real entertaining to see his hater shoving his dick in someone he’s already been with.” I play with the corner of the placemat and say, “I don’t know about going to the party tonight. I need to stay home and cry.”
She points her immaculate fingernail at me. “No!”
I hide my pain. “It’s been one day, Syd. I found out about the video yesterday!”
She reaches for me across the table. “I know, babe, but you need to show Matt that you don’t care. Get drunk, dance, and then come home and cry after.” She smiles at me, so I nod. “Forget about that asshole, Grey. It was a long shot anyway. He only cares about hooking up. I told you he’d be that way.”
I nod, replaying the rude way Greyson said no . And how he said he would never sleep with me. He’s a total asshole. The sting of those words makes me feel worse because if the hot guy who sleeps around doesn’t want me that must mean I am ugly, I am stupid, and I am worthless, and I deserve to be cheated on. I can’t imagine the type of woman Greyson must go for if he turned me down so quickly.
“What time do we leave?” I ask.
She stands from the table, grabbing her things. “Let’s get ready now. You need to look hot.”
Upstairs in her room, which is my favorite room in the house because of her wonderful sense of style, she applies minimal makeup to my face. I’m sitting at her vanity, facing her as she applies whatever this crap is on my face.
“I know you’re not a makeup girl, so don’t worry, it’s going to be very subtle. You’ll be glowing.” She dabs a stick of something on my cheeks and then on my nose. I keep my eyes closed until she’s done. I’m enjoying this because I grew up with three brothers. There was never a moment in time when I ever got into this makeup or fashion thing.
“If I cry, will it run?” I ask as she does my eyelashes.
“You’re not allowed to cry until we get home.”
I smile, holding in my laugh, and say, “Okay.”
She blows on my lashes. “Okay. Now for my favorite part.” She claps once with excitement. “I know exactly what you should wear.”
I glance at her closet, feeling a bit too excited. Everything Sydney wears is gorgeous. Designer or not designer, her clothes always look good. Or maybe it’s just her.
“I need to find my style,” I call out, imagining how exciting it must be to have a fun wardrobe. It’s now on my list of things to do: Build a dream wardrobe.
“You’ll figure it out,” she murmurs. “You’ll need to try different clothes and find what works for your figure. Okay, so I was thinking we could either wear something bright or sexy.”
“I don’t know about bright,” I say, recalling that Greyson called me a little girl. “I need sexy. Hot. I need to look hot.”
“Like feather sleeves?” She pulls out a black long-sleeved top with feathered cuffs. The neckline is wide, so it must be off the shoulder. It looks sexy. “Or a bare back with a tie?” She pulls out a brown top that is a piece of cloth with strings. “It’s hot on. You like this one, don’t you?” She wiggles it as I stare, imagining my tiny frame in it. Every part of my back will be on display. She lays it nicely on her bed. “With this, you absolutely should wear leather pants and boots.”
“Is that hot or army girl?” I ask, imagining that I would look like a tomboy instead of a college hot girl.
“Okay, jeans then. I have the perfect denim. Cancel the boots and you can wear these pumps.”
“The boots will do,” I smile, nodding at the pair she brought out. The outfit looks hot against her white comforter and pinkish rug. I only hope it looks good on. “No bra?”
She shakes her head. “No bra.”
I take the clothes and put it on while she searches her closet for her outfit. I pull up the pants, and they glide on smoothly. This is unlike any denim I’ve ever felt before.
“Your ass looks great in those.”
“It’s a good thing we’re the same size,” I say, turning to look at my bottom in the mirror.
She shakes her head. “No, my butt doesn’t look that good. I’m basically P-shaped. Those are baggy on me. You have a great ass and great boobs.”
I look at my boobs as I change into the top. She ties me up, tightening it. My nipples are hard because it’s freezing in here. Sydney doesn’t like how the heaters dry out her skin, so it’s always cold in her room. When she’s done tying it, I glance in the mirror. This top outlines every curve. My boobs are completely outlined. Anyone can see the type of nipples I have. Small and supple.
“My boobs are small.”
“Yeah, but they’re perfect. You have a good handful.”
She’s not wrong. We look in the mirror side by side. Sydney is gorgeous with her overgrown fringe and pink lips. She’s sophisticated while I’m simply the girl next door. I guess Greyson is right. I look like a little girl. So, I pull my hair into a ponytail, taking out a few pieces to frame my face. This should make me look a little older. Sydney plugs in her curler and says, “Good call on the hair. It’ll show off your back. You look hot.”
“It’s not too much?” I ask, worried about what Matt will think seeing me dressed like this. “It’s like thirty degrees tonight.”
“You’re an ice girl, you got this.”
I grin because she’s right. I grew up on the ice, and I’m basically immune to the cold weather. I let Sydney curl the hair around my face and then she does my ponytail. I mutter, “Maybe my heart is made of ice. It’s fragile as hell. If ice drops, it breaks. It needs to be in the right temperature, or it’ll disappear.”
“Your boyfriend making a porn doesn’t mean your heart is fragile. Please, Maddie. He’s a fucking asshole. And you don’t deserve that.”
I shrug. “Nobody deserves that.”
“Yeah, but you’re the biggest sweetheart. Matt knows that. Did you tell him you saw the video yet?”
I shake my head, reaching for my phone that’s been on silent. Sydney snatches it from my palm.
“You didn’t break up with him yet?” she scolds me while glancing at my phone. She’s reading something. It’s probably a text. Her eyes widen. “He’s expecting to see you tonight.”
My anxiety tingles in my fingertips. “I told you I wanted to stay home and cry.”
“Maddie, you need to tell him that you know. I thought you were gonna do it before you talked to Grey? Wait,” she says, holding up her hand. “He saw you talking to Grey.”
“No,” I say, grabbing my phone back to read the text.
Matt (heart emoji): Are you meeting me at the party or do I need to pick you up?
Matt (heart emoji): Why were you talking to Grey?
Matt (heart emoji): Hello?
Tears pool into my eyes.
“No, no, no,” Sydney pleads. “No crying. Think about shopping for a candle for your great grandma, and when you gift it to her, she thinks it’s a margarita and tries to drink it.”
I laugh at her randomness. Having a friend with a sense of humor like her makes these hard times feel much lighter and easier. I’m grateful for her. My watery eyes don’t turn into falling tears.
Sydney huffs, resting her hands on her hips. “Babe, do you need to stay home?”
I lick my lips, glancing at my reflection. All dressed up with nowhere to go or go out and have fun with the girls?
“What do I do about Matt?” I ask, not knowing how to navigate this type of breakup. I’ve never been cheated on before. A breakup is given, right? No talking required?
She keeps her strong stance as she says, “Just send him the link to the video.”
I imagine Matt recognizing the link and panicking, calling me, and throwing me excuses. On the opposite spectrum, I imagine him not caring I saw the video and meeting up with Michelle later to do it again. Both scenarios make me want to cry.
I pull out my phone and stretch my neck from the stress this is giving me. “I don’t think I can do it. Can you?”
“Yeah,” she says, reaching for my phone.
“Then block him, please. I’m done with him.”
“Yeah,” she agrees. “Don’t tolerate that. It doesn’t matter what he says.”
My mind runs wild about what he would say. “Do you think he’ll want to talk?” I cringe just thinking about what he would say about making a porno. “I don’t think I can talk to him. Like ever again.”
She’s tapping away on my phone. “I know, babe. You don’t have to. I’ll be by your side all night. Okay,” she glances at me. “I only sent the link, and I blocked him. I removed the heart emoji from his name. It’s done.”
I exhale as she passes me the phone, relieved.
“You got this.” She nods, hugging me from the side. “Now let’s get wasted, have some fun, and dance.”
I hug her back. “I love you. Thank you.”
I don’t care if I’m letting her talk me into going out while I’m emotionally distressed. A part of me wants to go out and see Matt. If he’s still going out, then so am I.
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