Page 20 of It's Not All Fake

In the elevator, the doors close and we are once again alone. A part of me half expects—wishes for—a kiss that will relieve all the tension from the night.

Instead, Liam drops my hand and runs his hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.

He’s frustrated. I’m surprised because he had seemed so calm when we left Patrick.

He scrubs his face and looks at me, vexed. “Why would you talk to him like that?”

“What?” I am genuinely confused. The question is not what I’d expected.

“You were isolated with him, laughing and smiling…” Liam shakes his head, clearly pained. “What the hell, Chloe? I’m not paying you to embarrass me,” he spits out.

“Are you kidding? I was actually trying not to embarrass you—” I start to explain.

“Well, you did,” he snaps. “To them, my girlfriend is off flirting with another man.” He shakes his head again, as if disbelieving that this is happening to him.

“I wasn’t flirting?—”

“That’s what it looked like,” he cuts me off, eyeing me coldly.

“Well, earlier tonight, it looked like we were crazy about each other, but that’s not true either, is it?” I spit back at him. I am fuming mad now. He’s not interested in my side of the story. He didn’t even think to ask.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. I storm out ahead of him.

“Chloe—” I hear him call out for me.

I’m aware that someone could be observing us now in the hotel lobby and I could be making a scene, which could be yet another thing that makes him look bad and embarrasses him.

But I don’t give a fuck right now.

“I’m off the clock, Liam. I’m going home,” I call over my shoulder and pick up my pace, my heels echoing off the marble floors.

I push through the lobby doors, into the cool night. I make a sharp left, walking up the sidewalk as I pull up the Uber app on my phone and hail a ride.

“Chloe, stop,” Liam calls from behind me and I ignore him.

The ocean is only a block away and the air smells like salt. I hurry across the street to the palm tree-lined sidewalk by a green park that butts up against the sandy beach. The area is deserted, with no other pedestrians and surprisingly few cars passing on the street.

I can hear the waves crashing out in the darkness beyond as Liam catches up to me.

“Chloe, can you stop?” He gently touches my arm and I whip around.

“What?” I shake my head. What more could he possibly want to say to me? I’m an embarrassment to him.

“I thought—” Liam frowns. “I thought you were flirting.” His tone holds a hint of regret, but his words are far from an apology.

“I’m not your ex-girlfriend,” I seethe, and I see him stiffen. “I’m not going to mess around, or fake mess around, behind your back.”

“Can you stop psychoanalyzing me for even a minute?” Liam says, exasperated.

My phone dings, signaling me that my Uber is arriving.

“I’ll try to do a better acting job tomorrow,” I say coldly, brushing past him toward the car pulling up to the curb.

He stares at me, speechless, as I get in and shut the door.

As the Uber pulls away, I lean back against the seat, my anger dissipating to reveal the hurt underneath. A tightness forms in my chest, and I feel like crying.

Liam doesn’t even know what really happened with Patrick. Instead, he immediately assumed the worst of me. I grit my teeth at the thought. How could he when all I’ve wanted to do is help him?

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