Page 69 of My Irresistible Enemy

Aiden shrugged. “It’s fine. But I still don’t get why you don’t want to find out what happened.”

“Because I don’t want to know!” I shook my head. “Because I want it to go away. I want to forget it ever happened. Asking around, turning it into the investigation that you have in mind? That’s the opposite of what I want. Do you get that?”

“I guess. But if someone slipped something into your drink, they shouldn’t be able to just do that and get away with it.

“Look, I know you’re young, so maybe you haven’t realized this yet, but the world is seldom fair.”

“I’m nottwelve, I know life isn’t fair. I just don’t get why you don’t care more.”

“Sometimes caring doesn’t look the way you expect it to,” I said heavily.

Something buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled out my phone. I had a text from my mom.

MOM: Hey, you free now?

“Look, I have to make a phone call,” I told Aiden. “I know we’re supposed to practice our bakes today, but can we push it off for an hour? I’d like to shower after I’ve talked to my mom.”

Aiden looked at me incredulously. “You really want to go down to the tent and practice baking right now? Like nothing even happened?”

“Yes.” I looked him right in the eye. “Yes, I really do.”

“Fine.” He shrugged. “If that’s what you want. I’ll see you in an hour, I guess.”

He slid off the bed and left the room, closing the door behind him. I lay down, curling up and hugging my knees to my chest. I was alone. Finally. All alone.

I needed to call my mom back. And I would. In a minute.

But first, I just needed to lie here. Lie here, and watch the door, and fall apart in private.

11

Aiden

“So, here’s the thing about croissants,” Nolan said a week later, when we were back in the tent, practicing our bakes.

Improbably, I’d made it through another week. Wade had been eliminated just this morning, after a disastrous baguette incident that had somehow trumped even my mildly raw ciabatta for terribleness. Next week was pastry week, and we’d just gotten our assignments for Monday.

Nolan had drawn profiteroles out of a hat, which I’d never even heard of. I’d gotten croissants and been relieved at first, until I saw the face that Nolan made. It screamedyikes. Vivian had put her hand on my shoulder and said, gently but firmly, “Please practice this one, Aiden. I’m begging you.”

In truth, I thought things would be weird with Nolan after last week. But he really did seem to mean what he said about forgetting what had happened at the harbor festival. He hadn’t mentioned it once. I’d worried he’d be prickly about things, or want to call it quits on our fake relationship, but if anything, he’d been a little nicer to me this week than usual.

I didn’t know what to make of it.

“Hey. Are you listening?” Nolan asked, snapping his fingers near my face.

“Did you justsnapat me?” I asked, indignant. So much for him being nicer. “Like I’m a dog or something?”

“It got your attention, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, but so would saying my name, or dearest, or love of my life, or man who makes me question how I functioned before I met him, guy who I can’t dream of living without anymore, soulmate whose very essence has mingled with mine under the light of the stars and across galaxies, will you please, please, do me the honor of gracing me with your attention?”

Nolan glanced over his shoulder. Looking for a camera, no doubt. Currently, there were two in the tent, but they were both clustered up front where the other bakers were working.

“I think I’ll stick to snapping.”

I smiled sweetly. “Snap at me again and see what it gets you.”

“Is that a threat?” He arched an eyebrow. Em’s camera was drifting towards us now.

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