Page 64 of Famous Last Words
Still looking in the drawers, crouching down to inspect the runners like I have any idea of the mechanics of a fucking drawer, I offer a noncommitting sound.
“Jesus, will you stop!” Fran shouts, slamming the drawer closed with such force she almost jams my damn fingers.
Standing to my full height, I tuck my hands into the pockets of my jeans, forcing myself to meet her eyes. And I’m a little shocked to find that her gaze no longer holds any hint of sadness; she’s totally pissed.
“What the fuck, Robbie?” Fran throws her hands in the air. “You’ve barely said more than two words to me all week, and now you won’t evenlookat me!”
And of course she’s hot when she’s pissed; I swear the universe is against me.
“What. Is. Going. On?” she presses, annunciating each word.
I stare at her, blinking once. “What do you expect me to say?”
“You flipped a switch!” she exclaims incredulously. “We were… I don’t know… friends.”
I snort. “We wereneverfriends, Keller.”
She looks at me like I’ve just slapped her, and I snap my stupid mouth shut because even I know that was uncalled for.
“Was it the kiss?” Her voice is small. Reluctant.
I scoff. “No.”Lies.
She continues watching me, saying nothing, and I assume she wants more.
“We’re fake dating. Why wouldn’t we fake-kiss? It’d be weird if we didn’t.” I shrug another shoulder. “It’s all part of the deal, right?”
The anger in Fran’s eyes makes way for something else, but before I can figure out what it is, she looks down, tucking a loose lock of her blonde hair behind her ear. “Maybe we should forget it.”
Panic consumes me. “Forget what?”
This time, it’s Fran who lifts a shoulder, looking up at me, her blue eyes seemingly bigger. “This.” She waves a finger between us. “I mean, you’re back to being the revered hockey star everyone loves. And I… well, I sold a property. I’m not fired…yet.” With another heaving sigh, she looks around at the apartment before meeting my eyes again.
I’m shaking my head before I even realize. “No.”
She balks, clearly surprised by my response. “Excuse me?”
“We have an agreement,” I remind her. “Alegally bindingagreement.”
Her cheeks flush and that anger is back, eyes narrowed, gaze steely.
“The deal was to stay together until my probation is up.” I drag my teeth over my bottom lip.
She glares at me, folding her arms across her chest, and I force myself not to look at the way it makes her tits even more pronounced.
“This is bullshit.”
I shrug. “A deal’s a deal, Keller.”
She laughs, but there’s little to no humor in the sound. “You are fucking delusional if you think I’m going to put up with this.”
“Suit yourself. But you’re mine until the holidays.” And I know I’m being an ass, but I can’t stop myself as I add, “I’ll have Andy send you a copy of the agreement so you can read it again.”
Fran stares at me long and hard. And if looks could kill, I’d be nothing more than a pile of smoking ash on the gleaming white floor. But I remain impassive, staring down at her.
“You’re a fucking asshole,” she finally mutters, pushing past me.
I turn, watching as she collects her bag and her jacket before storming for the door.
