Page 17 of The Southern Submission

My phone vibrating on the table next to my mug cuts her off. We both look down at it and she chokes out a laugh when she sees the name on the screen with the FaceTime request.

“Well, it looks like your annoying new friend wants another chance to video chat. Maybe he’ll start with the lower half of his body this time and you’ll see what he’s packing and decide if it’s worth it to get back into the dating pool for that alone.”

“Shut up." My cheeks heat as I snatch the phone and leave the kitchen, heading for my room as she laughs at my retreating back.

“At least let him take you out and show you what his intentions are. Just go with it!” she yells before I slam my door.

I swipe to accept the call. “What?” I snap, mad at what Della said but taking it out on Payton. He deserves it, anyway.

“Still so grumpy? I thought I gave you plenty of time to handle your business and unwind.”

I roll my neck, feeling more than the tension he’s referring to, trying to get my emotions under control. I’m a professional. I have a solid poker face, and I can usually keep my reactionsin check and make it through any interaction without letting them get the better of me, annoying caller be damned. He manages to get under my skin so easily, despite all that.

“This is how I am. If you want to fake date me, get used to it,” I snap, running a hand through my hair and pacing around my small room.

“I’m not complaining. I like you just the way you are. I just thought you’d be a little…less on edge if you did what I expected you to. Unless you like being edged. Which I can work with.”

“Payton,” I warn, my eyes meeting his, humor crinkling the corners. “I don’t want this to turn into another conversation full of innuendo and sexual overtures. Stop it right now.”

“Anything for you, Muffin,” he agrees with a slow smile and darkening of eyes that dry my mouth more effectively than his playful, sexually explicit words managed to. “Are you working today?”

“No. It’s Sunday. Even I manage to take a day off. I bet you’re working because you don’t have a life,” I deflect.

“Good. I’m coming to get you. We’re going to the lake for the day. I need to get out of the city and we need to work out our relationship details. I’ll be there in ten.”

“What? No! How do you even know where I live?” Horror jacks up my heart rate as I look around my room and then down at myself, still in pajamas.

“You put your address in your contact yesterday like a very good girl.”

I narrow my eyes at him calling me a good girl like a fucking dog despite the quickening of my pulse at the words. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Nine minutes, Spitfire. Put on your favorite bikini. It’s time we start this fake relationship.I’ll text you when I’m outside your apartment. Don’t make me wait or I’ll come up and get you myself.” He ends the call and I’m left staring at the blank screen, my body shaking with adrenaline at the thought of Payton on his way to pick me up to take me out to a lake. What the fuck? I’m overwhelmed and unable to process. I can’t do this on my own.

“Della!” I yell, opening the door before turning back and looking at my room without knowing what to do first.

What the hell is wrong with the man, and why am I falling into the web he’s weaving around me? I’m smarter than this. Yet…I’m too curious to know who the real Payton Olsen is to give up the opportunity to find out when he’s providing it to me on a silver platter. There’s a story in there somewhere, and I can unlock it, all his sexual innuendo be damned. And he’s right, we have to work out the details of our fake relationship before we start pretending. God, that makes me feel so shitty to even think about it because I’m curious enough to go along with his dumb plan.

“What’s wrong?” she says, hurrying into the room and seeing me on the edge of a panic attack. “What did he say this time?” She suppresses a smile as I vibrate in frustration.

“That jackass is on his way to pick me up to take me to the lake. In ten minutes. I did not consent to go anywhere with him. He’s such a jerk. What do I wear?”

She bursts into laughter and walks me back to my rumpled bed to sit. “I think asking what you should wear is giving consent, Ains. If you didn’t want to go, you wouldn’t even be worried about that. You have clean bikinis, right?”

“Of course. Top left drawer. But how dare he make decisions for me when I want nothing to do with him? He’s unbelievable.”

Della throws a white bikini on the bed along with a fewmore items. “Put that on and brush your hair. I’ll get sunscreen and a towel. You have flip-flops by the door. You’ll be fine. Just have fun, don’t think too hard about this, and enjoy your day at the lake, whether or not you want to call it a date.”

“Dell, what am I doing?” I ask, panic setting in again. Maybe getting his story isn’t worth my sanity. Payton sets me on edge. He gets under my skin, slides through my defenses, and penetrates my guarded walls with ease, and it pisses me off. I don't want him inside with me, seeing what I keep buried, or why it needs to stay locked up.

“You’re having something calledfunthat most people partake in on a regular basis. It’s good for you. You need it more than most. Please, I beg you, let down your guard enough to enjoy yourself a little bit, for me. Now scoot. You have a few minutes left if your countdown is correct.”

I look at my phone and gasp. He’ll be here in three minutes. I grab the clothing she picked and race into the bathroom to change. I brush my teeth, splash water on my face, run a brush through my hair, and grab my pink Yankees hat just as my phone vibrates with a new text.

Annoying Payton: I’m outside. Ready for me, or do I need to come get you?

I roll my eyes as my heart slams against my ribs. I type out a hasty reply.

Me: Don’t get your panties in a twist, asshole. I’ll be down in a minute.

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