Page 66 of The Enemy of My Enemy Is… My Fake Boyfriend?

"Yeah. Sorry. I should never have done that."

That stung. The regret lacing his voice stung. The implication that touching me had been a mistake. The whole thing.

"No big deal," I said with a shrug, trying my best to keep it casual.

His brows shot up. "No big deal? Me touching you intimately like that was no big deal?"

"Yeah. Exactly. No biggie."

His narrowed eyes studied mine for a long time before he finally said, "Okay. You're right. No big deal."

I returned his gaze with a practiced smile, one that barely reached my eyes, a façade I reserved for uncomfortable moments like this where I was lying through my teeth.

"Do you even want to do this anymore, Stratton?" he asked.

His words gave me pause, taken by surprise that he'd gone there, that it seemed like he wanted to end this whole charade.

Conflicting emotions tugged at me because I never in a million years imagined that Ethan and I would have crossed the physical boundaries we'd put in place on night one. And with that blurring came a tangled web of unexpected feelings, feelings I most certainly did not want.

What had begun as a ruse to get revenge on Chase had spiraled into something far more complex and dangerous, a confused mess of emotions and uncertainties, going against my own vow to never get involved with a man again.

I didn't have an answer for Ethan—not yet, at least.

But as the plane hurtled toward New York, I knew I needed to figure it out soon. My heart felt heavy with the weight of my indecision, knowing that whatever choice I made could change the course of my future. The doubts gnawed away at me, not exactly helping my hangover, a relentless reminder of the chaos I'd found myself in.

Twenty-One

Aria

"Well, as Mom always says, 'Jet lag is a choice,'" I said.

Astrid's peal of laughter sounded in my ear.

"And truthfully, we weren't there long enough to even adjust to Paris time. I think I'm just worn out period—physically and emotionally."

"Of course you are after everything that happened," she said, her sympathetic tone making me glad I'd called her and not Annalise for a post-trip analysis. "And do you want to know what I'd do?"

Putting her on speaker, I placed my phone down on the bathroom counter, ready to listen while focusing on my eye makeup. "What would you do?"

"Well, first, let me give you a little backstory."

"Backstory?"

"Yeah. Backstory," she repeated. "So you know how the annual Midnight Masquerade Ball is coming up this winter?"

"Yes?"

"And you know how I've sworn off men in general, right?"

"Right?" Where on earth was she going with this?

"So, uh, lately, I've been having sort of a problem."

I put my mascara down and turned up the volume on my phone. "What sort of problem?"

"I've been craving, um, companionship."

A sudden giggle burst from me before I could clamp a hand over my mouth. "Is that the trendy term now?"

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