Page 16 of Perfect Score

Would that be a dealbreaker for her?

“Only when I’m really tired.”

She makes a dramatic sigh and then takes my hand in hers.

She’s out of options if she wants a date for the wedding weekend and wants me to stay in her room with her. And she’s the best option I have to take to my grandmother’s. Though I know the second that my Gran sees who I brought, there will be questions… a lot of questions.

The one thing I can count on is that Zoey will not expect any type of relationship after this is over. In fact, she already said that she wants out of this as soon as possible.

I still don’t understand why she wants Liam to want her back. Liam did a fuck ton worse to her than I did, and more recently too. I didn’t spend the last nine years dating her only to proposeand then call off our engagement because I wanted to sleep with someone else. So how is he getting off scot-free and I’m still in the doghouse?

Her soft hand slips into mine, and we shake on it; neither one of us is really sure what the hell we’re agreeing to and how this weekend is going to turn out.

One thing is for sure, we’re about a two-hour flight from finding out.

Chapter Five

Zoey

Before we land, Brent and I work out the rest of the logistics.

He insists that we take his SUV rental over my economy two-door that he’d never fit in. I want to be difficult with him and refuse his rental over mine, but with all the extra camera lightingequipment that I checked in Seattle, the extra-large cargo space would come in handy.

I decide to relent to his idea, even though I hate the feeling of agreeing to anything he suggests.

Brent leads us to the baggage claim carousel that's already moving with luggage on it—that was quick, thank God. Cocktail hour should be starting soon and I want to get to the hotel and check in before Liam shows up. I'm sure I look like a wreck right now—my hair in a ratty bun plopped on top of my head, the makeup on my face is whatever's left from yesterday, and bags under my eyes from working all night editing a photoshoot.

As long as there isn't a long line at the car rental kiosk, we might make it there with a few minutes for me to take a quick shower, reapply my makeup, and pull on the cocktail dress and heels that I know Liam will like.

“What bags are yours?” Brent asks, as bags start passing us on the conveyor belt.

“I can get my own, thanks,” I snip.

He lets out a deep exhale. But I don't care if my attitude is wearing on him. He robbed me of a core high school memory.

We might be faking a relationship but until we’re actually “on” in front of our friends and family, we don’t have to pretend to like each other.

Our agreement is mutually beneficial but that’s where it ends. I don’t want Brent to get the idea that we’re friends now.

After we gather all of our things, I load my bags and photography equipment onto a cart. Brent packed light with a backpack over his shoulder and a small rolling suitcase. I paid a small fortune to fly everything out here, but Phoebe deserves her day to be special and her pictures to be perfect, and I am here to make sure that both of those things happen this weekend.

Though the thought of Liam and Brent, both individually and combined, have me about ready to break out in stress hives, my big sister's wedding is still my number one priority.

Brent reaches over and grabs the handle to the metal cart loaded down with my luggage and starts to pull it behind him.

“I can do that Brent,” I argue, not wanting his help for anything.

I step in his way and attempt to take the cart back from him.

“Why can’t I help you?” he demands, his eyebrows stitched together.

“Because then I’ll have to say, “thank you”.

He shakes his head. He thinks I’m being difficult. "Fine," he mumbles and starts talking with his luggage trailing behind him.

Am I being a little ridiculous?… maybe. But I don’t want to owe him anything. I want to be able to hold onto this grudge for as long as I want to and not feel guilty about it because Brent keeps doing nice things for me.

I can either feel hurt by what Brent did to me, or I can hate him for what he did to me, but I refuse to feel both. And feeling hurt is more vulnerable than I’m willing to be with him—so hate is the only option.

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