Fake Love: NYT Bestselling Author

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Fake Love: NYT Bestselling Author Page 6

by Contreras, Claire


  “Happy anniversary, Cory.”

  “Happy anniversary, Ev. To endless more.”

  Also by Claire Contreras

  Also in Kindle Unlimited:

  The Consequence of Falling - enemies to lovers, office romance

  Then There Was You - sexy, angsty duet

  Kaleidoscope Hearts - brother’s best friend romance

  Paper Hearts - ultimate second-chance romance

  Elastic Hearts - forbidden second-chance romance

  The Player - sports romance (Kindle Unlimited)

  The Wilde One - music industry romance (Kindle Unlimited)

  Complete Hearts Series - all three bundled up in one

  * * *

  Want a little suspense with your romance?

  There is No Light in Darkness - a little mystery, a lot of love.

  Because You’re Mine - sexy mafia romance

  Chapter One of The Consequence of Falling

  Maybe I was being overly dramatic and petty, but I was having the worst day imaginable. First, I lost the photography contest to Jamie, which meant she was going on an all-expenses-paid trip to China while I spent the summer at home pretending to breeze through my summer reading list. Actually, I’d just buy the CliffsNotes and pay someone to do my report for me. Then, my parents told me they were getting a divorce. Actually, the word they used was separating, but everyone knew that was a nice way of saying they hated each other and wanted to eventually divorce—eventually meaning when Dad figured out a way to keep Mom from taking all his money. Lastly, I was getting soaked while I waited for one of them to pick me up from cheerleading practice. It was ridiculous, really. They’d picked me up after school, and in the break I had from getting drilled by teachers and then by my cheerleading coach because I was off my game, they laid the news on me. And now, they were late to pick me up.

  This was exactly how kids ended up traumatized by divorce. It resulted in splitting their time between two houses and being forgotten all the time. If our parents couldn’t be trusted to make something as big as marriage work, how could they figure out how to schedule their lives around their children? I was already seething, but that thought made me rage. How could they just decide to not be together? It was May. We were only a month away from our annual family trip to Europe. Dad had chosen San Sebastian as this year’s excursion after I’d traced our genealogy back there to the Basques and connected with second cousins. We couldn’t not go. We’d been looking forward to it all year. Instead of going back inside or trying to find cover from the rain, I walked forward and sat on the steps, letting the storm consume me. I wanted them to see the effects of their selfishness. If I got sick, it would be a bonus. Maybe I could skip the stupid end of school year dance this weekend and the field day performance while I was at it. Suddenly, being captain of the cheerleading squad just seemed stupid. All of this was stupid.

  The sound of a car approaching made my head snap up. It was Dad’s tinted black Mercedes. I ground my teeth together as I stood, pulling my now-soaked backpack with me. I hoped everything in it was water damaged. My entire body shook as I stomped to the car and pulled the door open, letting the backpack drop in the feet compartment of the passenger seat and sitting down as heavily as my body allowed. That was when I saw the person in the driver’s seat was not my father, and my anger was replaced by panic.

  “Who the hell are you?” I reached for the door handle.

  I’d seen enough suspense movies to know a kidnapper when I saw one, and even though this guy was younger than I would’ve imagined a kidnapper being, and a hell of a lot cuter, I jumped out of the car and ran back to the front of the school.

  “Presley.” He called my name as I tried to open the front door, which was locked. Of course they fucking locked it.

  “I need to go back inside.” I pulled the handles with both hands and shook the door.

  “Your dad sent me.”

  “Yeah right. I’ve heard that one before.” I slapped my hand on the glass as I looked inside. “Help!”

  I heard his footsteps behind me and froze, grabbing the handles even tighter. I wasn’t going down without a fight, that was for sure.

  “Your father sent me to pick you up,” he said. He was literally right behind me. Panic crept into my throat, blocking out the yell I wanted to produce.

  “Stay the fuck away from me.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you.” He chuckled, then that chuckle turned into a full-on laugh. “You look crazy, you know that?”

  “I don’t care about how I look. I’ve heard of people getting kidnapped for ransom, and I’ve had a really bad day already and refuse to succumb to your bullshit.”

  “I’m not going to kidnap you.” He put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed, not roughly, but not lightly either. “I’ll get your father on the phone.”

  “You have his car.” I shot a narrowed look over my shoulder. He dropped his hands. “You could’ve kidnapped him first. Call the police and have them send an escort.”

  “Wha . . . I . . . do they do that?” His brows furrowed. His genuine shock made me loosen the grip on the handles. That and my hands hurt.

  “Call them.”

  His eyes widened. He looked unsure of what to do. I could practically see his thoughts ping-ponging back and forth—would he call or not? After what felt like an eternity, he pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and dialed. I knew from the way his back straightened and the way he was talking that he’d called my father. I didn’t know this guy, but I knew that much, because it was what they all did when my dad was on the line. I rolled my eyes as he stepped forward and pressed the phone to my ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Presley Carina Rose, I swear to all that’s holy that if you don’t get your ass in that car right this second, I’m going to ground you for a month.” He was fuming. I felt my eyes narrow as I let go of the door and yanked the phone out of the driver’s hand, stomping toward the car.

  “You know what? Fucking ground me. Send me away to boarding school. Send me to live with Aunt—”

  “Did you just curse at me?”

  I stopped walking and slapped a hand over my mouth. I’d just cursed at him. I never did that. I opened my mouth to apologize, to say something, anything. Instead, I hung up the call and closed the car door. The guy slid into the driver’s seat. I didn’t turn to acknowledge him, but I heard the click of his seat belt before he started driving. I hated—no, loathed—when my parents hired people to drive me around or watch over me when they went out of town as if I was a child. Technically, at fifteen years old, I was, but I hated being treated as such.

  “He means well . . . your dad,” the driver said.

  My arms, crossed over my chest, tightened. “What do you know about him? You just met him.”

  “I know a lot more about him than you think,” he said. “And I didn’t just meet him.”

  My eyes widened. I glanced at him. “You’re not like, my half-brother or something, are you?”

  “What? No.” He made a face like he had a million sour things in his mouth. “Are you seeing a therapist? Because you should. You jump to crazy conclusions about perfectly normal situations.”

  “I don’t need a therapist. I need the people in my life to get their shit together.” I looked out the window. “And for the record, you don’t know me or what conclusions I jump to on a regular day, which this is not, so I’d appreciate it if you kept your preconceived judgments to yourself.”

  “Preconceived? You jumped out of this car saying I was trying to kidnap you. You wanted me to call the cops to escort us to your house, which I’m still not certain they’d do.” He shot me a stern glance. I looked at his mouth. I don’t know why I did that, but I did. His lips were plump and soft looking. It was hard not to look at his mouth. He didn’t notice. “You were also sitting in the rain when I got here. Who the hell does that?”

  “Someone who’s trying to make a point.”

  “By catching pneumonia?


  “Maybe.” I tilted my chin upward as if I’d made a great point, but it really did sound stupid now that I was playing it back. “Anyway, he didn’t tell me he hired a new driver and you look too young to be employed by him.”

  “I’ve been employed by him for years.”

  My face twisted. “How old are you?”

  “Eighteen.”

  “And what the hell could you have possibly doing ‘for years’?”

  “His dry cleaning.” He caught me staring at him, waiting for him to expand on that, so he did. “My uncle owns a dry cleaning business.”

  “Oh.”

  “Would it kill you to be a little more grateful for everything you have? Your parents work hard to maintain the idyllic lifestyle you have. Some people would kill to trade places with you.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about, and I’d appreciate it if we keep this conversation to a minimum until you drop me off. I don’t need to be reprimanded by one of Dad’s employees, and I definitely don’t need to explain my gratitude to you.”

  “I’m just saying, you may want to ease up on him. He’s going through a hard time right now.”

  “Let’s make something clear.” I turned my glare toward him. Thankfully, we were turning into my driveway and this little conversation would soon be over. “You don’t know me and despite what you think, you’ll never know him either. Whatever façade he’s showing you is just that.” I reached for the door handle and grabbed my backpack when the car came to a full stop. “And next time he sends you to pick me up, ignore him. I’ll gladly walk home.”

  I opened the door and slammed it behind me. I ignored my mother’s voice when I heard her calling from the kitchen and stomped upstairs. I needed to shower and get rid of the stench of the day. What I wanted to do was punch something, no, someone. I wanted to punch that stupid driver. I didn’t even get his name, and I didn’t want to know what it was anyway. I would forever associate him with my most fucked-up day of the century.

  Read the rest here: The Consequence of Falling

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to the ladies at Read Me Romance Podcast for asking me to write this exclusive story for them! Wishing you all the success in the world.

  Also, thank YOU for listening and reading this! Xoxo

 

 

 


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