Pretend We're Over (Pretend 2)

“Yes. We have therapists and doctors who are better at helping people. But sometimes my job is convincing people they should be here in the first place. And to deal with them when they get physical. I don’t want my staff to be in danger, and I don’t like drugging patients to calm them down. I must look like a mess, and I’m really sorry we are going to be late.”

“You look like my Sebastian. And I think everyone will understand why we are late.”

“Nope, they won’t understand because everyone outside these walls only sees the asshole, the playboy, the jerk. They don’t get to see this side of me.”

Millie links her fingers through mine, startling me, but damn does it feel good to be connected like this. “Got it. Back to being your usual controlling mean self once we leave.”

I nod as we walk outside, taking in her appearance for the first time. She’s wearing jeans, a black V-neck shirt, and flats. She’s not extremely girly, and she’s not wearing a dress, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to jump her in the back of my Porsche before we go.

No, control yourself. We are already late.

We pull up in front of the club where we are meeting our friends, and we’re over an hour late. Millie leans over to me. “Just so you know, I like you when you’re caring and also when you are a prick. It makes no difference to me.” And then she kisses my cheek.

I grab her wrist and pull her back to me. “Oh, yea?” I kiss her hard, yanking her bottom lip into my mouth as I nip until her lip is swollen. I drive my hand into my hair, fussing it up so everyone assumes why we were late. “I think you like it when I’m an asshole more than when I’m being sweet.”

“Maybe I do.” And then we both step out of the car and enter the club hand in hand. I use Millie as a crutch instead of using my actual crutches I hate.

Our friends holler at us from a circle of couches in the corner of the room as we arrive. It’s mostly everyone who was at Oaklee’s wedding with a few more of my co-workers I usually hang out with.

“You finally made it! Now, you can cover our drinks, you asshole,” Boden shouts at me as he raises a glass from his seat.

I feel Millie glare at me. “You invited Boden?”

“Yes? He’s my friend, and I thought we were trying to get Oaklee and him back together.”

She shakes her head. “You’re an idiot.” She pulls away and goes to talk with Oaklee.

I run my hand through my hair, messing it up even more. My shirt is wrinkled and stained with a drop of my blood, and I haven’t slept in twenty-four hours. I look like hell. I guess we are going to show our friends how incompatible Millie and I are tonight.

Millie and Oaklee head out onto the dance floor, while I walk over to Boden and take

a seat.

“Be nice to Oaklee and Millie tonight,” I say as I sit.

Boden rolls his eyes. “When am I anything but nice? And Oaklee’s my ex. I’ll be nice but not friendly. We’re over. There is nothing that will cause us to get back together.”

“Why? What happened?” I don’t understand how you go from wanting to marry someone to not wanting to be in the same room with them.

Boden takes a swig of his beer. “Really? The king of one night stands is asking me why I don’t want to give my ex a second chance.”

“I’m not that guy anymore. I’m married now, remember?”

Boden laughs. “Okay, right.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means marriage doesn’t change anything. One woman, especially a woman like Millie, won’t keep you satisfied for long. You’ll be looking for something new and exciting in a matter of weeks if you haven’t already.”

I stand up and knock his beer from his hands.

“Hey, what was that?” Boden asks, bewildered.

“That was me holding back from kicking your ass. Don’t you dare talk like that about my wife ever again. I’m not going to punch you because you’re my friend, and it would ruin everyone’s night, but keep your mouth shut if you don’t want a black eye and a fat lip. Also, I won’t be paying for your drinks tonight, so don’t you dare start a tab under my name. And if you knew what was good for you, you’d leave now and apologize tomorrow if you want to remain friends.”

I storm off. My rage is flowing through me. And for the first time in years, I want to drink. I want to pick a fight. I want—

My eyes catch Millie out of the corner of my eye, dancing, swaying her hips to the music. And then she sees me. And her body changes. Her eyes tell me to come to her. She’ll fix it.