Chapter 38 “Misery Business” - Paramore
“Misery Business” - Paramore
Maeve
Was it stupid of me to think that Pierce might come to my room last night after everyone else had gone to bed?
One hundred percent. Was it stupid of me to be excited by the thought of sneaking him in as if we were teenagers?
Definitely. Is it stupid of me to be this insanely jealous of some ho with terrible highlights and legs up to her neck? I don’t think I need to answer that.
I know I have no right to be jealous, so stop thinking it.
And don’t you dare pity me, either. I have no claim on Pierce; we’re not exclusive, we’re not even together like that.
Trust me, I am fully aware of how absolutely ridiculous this situation is.
Does that stop me from wanting to destroy both of them? Hell no.
Her, I can actually understand. Who wouldn’t take one look at Pierce—currently single and worth billions—and try to lock that down?
She needs a better stylist, sure, but I can’t blame the woman for trying.
She’s the exact same prototype as his previous girlfriends: blond, leggy, and gorgeous.
This one seems to have more in her head than most of them, but first impressions can be deceiving.
It’s him I have a problem with.
Just hours before hooking up with her, he threw a tantrum about Preston being here, accusing me of inviting him so the two of us could sleep together—the most ridiculous idea anyone’s ever had.
He was clearly jealous, so I know exactly why he took Caroline to his room.
Whether I spent the night with Preston or not is beside the point.
He did it to get back at me, and if he thinks that makes us even, he’s grossly mistaken.
Breakfast is served in the morning room.
The blue-and-white toile curtains have been pulled back to let in the sunshine, and it hits the gleaming silverware next to the buffet, making it sparkle.
I’m relieved to see Heath and Walker already sitting at one of the tables, nibbling on muffins and strawberries.
After filling my own plate, I join them. I’ve just sat down when Pierce walks in. Our gazes lock immediately, and I give him a cool stare before turning to Walker.
“Let’s talk about the wedding. What are you thinking for flowers?”
She begins explaining her dilemma, choosing between lilies and orchids, but I’m embarrassed to say I’m only half listening.
My attention is focused on Pierce, who’s now standing at the buffet along the far wall.
He looks far too refreshed this morning for my liking.
After all the drinks he pounded last night, he should carry at least a hint of a hangover, but the jerk looks crisp and polished in a white polo shirt, dark brown pants, and leather loafers without socks.
Caroline is nowhere to be seen.
He joins us at the table, his china plate loaded with bacon and eggs. After smiling and wishing Heath and Walker a good morning, he looks at me. “Maeve.” His voice is as flat as fake champagne.
“Looks like you worked up an appetite last night.” I shove another bite of gluten-free muffin into my mouth.
Walker clears her throat nervously. “You two ready for your next challenge?”
Somehow in the chaos of arranging a house party for fifty people, I forgot that we’d agreed to complete the next challenge this weekend. Clenching my fork tighter, I give her a plasticky smile. “I’ve never been more ready.”
Pierce lets out a quiet scoff and takes the seat next to mine. “How could you possibly be ready?” He says it softly enough that I’m the only one who can hear him.
“Unlike you, I got a great night’s sleep,” I say just as quietly.
Heath and Walker may not be able to hear us, but they can definitely sense the tension. They’re doing a good job pretending otherwise, though. He says something that makes her laugh, and she looks up at him with a disgustingly adoring face. Why are people in love so intolerable?
“How would you know how I slept?” Pierce takes a massive bite of his bacon as he waits for my answer.
I roll my eyes. “Please. Where is Barbie anyway?”
He shakes his head, a small smile playing at his lips, and ignores my question. Instead, he turns to Heath and starts talking about doing some riding while we’re here.
Grabbing my fork, I press the silver tines into his thigh. After several seconds, he seizes my wrist and locks it in place on top of his leg while continuing his conversation with Heath. He doesn’t even bother glancing at me.
“I would kill to see Slate on a horse,” Heath says, a huge grin cracking his face in two.
“Maeve would come, wouldn’t you?” Pierce asks, finally gracing me with a look.
I scowl at him and try to yank my hand away. “Since when do you like riding?”
He shrugs. He doesn’t even have to struggle to restrain me, although the veins in his wrist are bulging. “I’m always down for a ride.” Keeping his eyes on me, he takes a long sip of his coffee.
“I’m well the fuck aware,” I snap, and finally manage to free my hand. “Excuse me.”
I’ve only had a few bites of my food, but I can’t take another minute at this table, enduring Pierce’s goading and my own jealousy.
I imagine Caroline Hatchett wrapped in his sheets, maybe wearing the T-shirt he sleeps in, or using his bodywash as she showers.
His scent has probably seeped into her pores the way it did into Loretta’s, and if it hasn’t, it will by the end of the weekend.
Once again, he had a fuck buddy while I was left alone. And this time I didn’t even have my vibrator to keep me company, thanks to Captain Prick himself.
I’ve nearly reached my bedroom when he catches up to me.
“Maeve, wait.”
I don’t listen, just reach for the doorknob, but he stops me before I can slip inside. His hand on my arm is so warm it practically singes my skin.
“What do you want, Pierce?” Pulling away from his touch, I back up until there’s some distance between us. I’m not sure if I’m more liable to throw myself at him or slap him, but I have no interest in finding out.
“What’s going on?” he says, his dark brows pulled together.
“Nice try.” I turn for the door again.
He jerks it closed before I can open it more than a few inches. “I asked you a question.”
“Go to hell.”
“Not until you talk to me.”
“Is that all it will take?” I turn my face up and flash him a victorious smile. “In that case, please continue.”
He sighs and rests his shoulder against the wall, looking down at me with tired eyes. “How long are we going to do this, Maeve?”
Shrugging with my entire face, I say, “I guess until you stop being an asshole.”
“Right.” Closing his eyes, he massages his temples. “And how was I an asshole this time?”
I bark out a laugh. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
He opens his eyes and looks at me through his fingers before slowly dragging his hand down over his face. “While you normally wear every single thought on your face, I’m struggling to pinpoint the exact cause of your anger this morning.”
My face heats as if sunburned. “You can’t expect me to believe that, not after you paraded her in front of me for hours last night.”
He blinks at me, his tongue in his cheek. Finally, he says, “Who?”
I roll my head up to look at the ceiling, hoping I’ll find the answers to his stupidity in the intricate molding. I don’t. “You’re being obtuse, and my patience is wearing thin,” I say.
“Your patience is always thin.”
“Well, right now it’s see-through.”
“Terrific.” He scuffs the toe of his sneaker against the gleaming hardwood floor. “Is this about Caroline?”
Gasping in shock and delight, I clap my hands together, garnering a look from a couple heading for the staircase. “Ding, ding, ding!” I sing out, ignoring them. “Job well done, Pierce.” I grab his arm and shake it like a game show host.
He shrugs me off. “You’re making a scene.” His eyes flick down the corridor.
“I’m about to make an even bigger scene if you don’t get your head out of your ass.”
He pins me with a hard gaze that makes me swallow. “You’re the one who’s making a big deal out of nothing.”
“Nothing? Really?” I cross my arms and glare up at him. “That’s the way you want to play this?”
“Why are you so mad about Caroline?” he asks, returning my scowl with a nasty one of his own.
“Because—” I start, then stop. Anything I say will point to jealousy, and it’s not like I’m going to admit that out loud. God, I’m not a masochist. “Because I was under the impression that you were going to spend the night with me.”
His face turns incredulous. “I would have,” he says slowly, “but you brought your own fuckboy.”
I rear back. “What? Are you talking about—” After pausing to catch my breath, I continue, my voice lowered in case anyone is walking down the hallway. “About Preston?”
Pierce lets out a deep sigh and rolls his eyes. “No, the prime minister. Obviously I’m talking about that dickhead.”
It’s my turn to look incredulous. “He came with his bloody wife. Did you think we were going to have a threesome?”
He runs his hand through his hair before spreading both arms wide. “What was I supposed to think after you invited him here?”
“I told you, I had nothing to do with that,” I hiss. I was angry before, but now I’m fuming. Why the fuck would he think I was going to sleep with Preston while his wife snored down the hall? I’m not suicidal.
“I saw you outside,” Pierce bites out. “After the library.”
My mind whirls as I try to piece this all together. Pierce saw Preston and me on the terrace, but we weren’t doing anything. We may have hugged, but it was hardly sexual. So he hits on Caroline Hatchett to—what? Make me jealous?
“I haven’t even seen him since then,” I say, wishing I had the ability to scorch the man in front of me with my eyes alone. I can already picture smoke billowing from beneath his shoes.
Pierce blinks in surprise. “So you didn’t see him last night?”
“I just told you,” I snap. “He was with her last night.” For some reason, the thought of Preston having sex with his wife doesn’t repulse me the way thinking about Pierce with Caroline does.
“Oh.” Pierce sags against the wall and stares at the floor. “Caroline and I didn’t have sex either.”
His words hit my chest with a jolt, and I jerk my head upright. “But I saw you two—”
“I just walked her to her room. Nothing happened.”
Nothing happened.
All morning he let me believe they spent the entire night together. For god’s sake, I was picturing her in his clothes. “Did you kiss her?” I blurt out, my brain apparently malfunctioning. I don’t actually want to know the answer to that. Maybe I’m a masochist after all.
He lets out a soft chuckle. “No, Maeve, we didn’t kiss.
” Taking a step toward me, a spark lights his eyes, changing his face into what I’ve come to recognize as dangerous Pierce.
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and I forget how to breathe.
Tilting my chin up, he leans down and says, “I’m saving all my kisses for you. ”