Page 108 of Relationship Goals

“Our favorite,” Luke agrees. “We can listen to Yo-Yo Ma on the way.”

I want to punch him in his handsome lying face for mentioning Yo-Yo Ma. How dare he speak about Yo-Yo Ma in front of me so glibly!

I inhale deeply, centering myself. Focusing.

He might be a better actor than my ex. I’ll have to keep him away from any industry pros, the asshole.

“I’ve been on a heavy metal kick lately,” I lie. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to hear the cello again without crying.

Luke’s forehead creases in confusion, and a little mean part of myself relishes in it.

“She has. It’s been driving me crazy.” Michelle entwines her fingers and stretches them in front of her. “You two have fun.”

“Am I driving?” Luke asks me as I stand up and make my way to the door.

“I rented a car,” I tell him.

This is the part of the plan I hate the most, but I want him to go down in a big way. If I can soften him up enough to break up with me in public, it’s worth it.

“Did you?” He grins at me, and I flinch when he grabs my hand as we leave Michelle’s office.

I tuck it into my chest.

“I, uh, burnt my fingers this morning.” I am an awful actress at the moment—not winning a fucking thing for this performance, that’s for damn sure.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, babe.”

“Don’t call me babe,” I blurt. Then I smile. “Please. I like it when you say my name.”

Now that, that’s the truth, and I hate him for it.

I hate us both a little bit.

“Okay, Abigail.” Hurt and confusion flit through his expression, and guilt makes my breath hitch. “Sorry. Can’t seem to get it right today.”

“No worries. I know you’re under a lot of pressure to make this work.”

Fuck me. Why did I say that?

He blinks rapidly. “What?”

Smooth as a crunchy peanut butter sandwich, Abigail.

“With me,” I forge ahead, practically running to the lobby and the car I rented parked outside. “I know you want this to work with me, because I’m just the freaking best.”

Yeah, play up the weirdness and fake confidence. That will do the trick.

“That’s true,” he says, but his gaze lingers on me for a bit too long.

I clear my throat and fish the keys to the rental out of my bag. “I hope you’re ready.” The car alarm beeps as I hit the button on the fob, and I hold back a laugh worthy of a supervillain as he stops dead in his tracks at the car.

“Holy shit, Abigail. You rented a fucking Maserati?”

“Yeah, I did,” I say with a snort and a flip of my hair. One of my rings gets stuck, and I curse under my breath.

Luke stares at me. “Can you drive a stick?”

“Can’t everyone?” I dodge the question, frowning as I try to extricate my hand and my ring from the curls the studio did for the last screen test.

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