Page 53 of Sincerely, Your Enemy

What the fuck, Mattson?

TJ

If I did something, just fucking tell me.

TJ

Lacey, I hate this.

I can’t believe I thought I could get away with never talking to him again. We’ve been seeing each other for our lessons andtalking all the time for weeks now. As much as I hate to admit it, we’ve become friends.

My gaze strays to the bar on my right before I can get a grip.

Sure enough, a pissed-off TJ is staring bullets at me, his phone clutched in his hand and his jaw locked tight. He looks down at his phone long enough to send me another text.

TJ

Meet me in the back in five.

He wants to do thisnow? Right in the middle of my date? Defiance mixes with the irritation in his dark eyes, a warning reflecting in them.

His next message tells me he’s not messing around.

TJ

Ignore me again. I fucking dare you.

“Is everything all right?” Aaron picks up on the anxious energy pervading the air.

I clear my throat, putting my phone down. “Don’t worry about it.”

He doesn’t seem satisfied with my response, but he doesn’t insist. We spend the next five minutes flipping through the menu, but all I can think about is meeting TJ “in the back.”

What does that even mean?

Does he want to meet in the bathroom?

In the dirty alley behind the restaurant?

Our waiter drops by to take our orders, and seconds after I’ve chosen my meal, I notice TJ telling his coworker something from the corner of my eye. Then he’s heading for the narrow corridor near the entrance.

That’s the way to the bathroom.

What do I do?

He made it clear I shouldn’t ignore him again.

I wait a few minutes before excusing myself to the bathroom. I don’t see a soul as I amble down the hallway. Three doors surround me. I assume TJ’s waiting for me behind one of them until a strong hand locks around my arm.

The next thing I know, I’m being pulled behind a door labeled “Employees Only.”

Lacey

The room is shrouded in darkness, and the only thing I can see is a sliver of light shining through the gap underneath the door. I only realize what’s happening once the person who grabbed me in the hallway turns the lights on.

My breath catches in my throat when TJ comes into view. My fake boyfriend stands mere steps away from me, his eyes blazing with anger and a hint of satisfaction that sends a surge of anxiety through me.

I take in my surroundings. Rows of gray lockers adorn the walls, and wooden benches sit in the center of the space. This is the Grill House’s employees’ locker room.

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