Good Girl Complex: a heartwarming modern romance from the TikTok sensation

by Elle Kennedy

  “I can forgive her for being dumb, but she’s so painfully boring,” Heidi says, laughing. “And Cooper’s no fun at all anymore. All he wants to do is pretend they’re married. He hardly ever comes out anymore.”

  Little waves of anger ripple through me. This shit. Every time. Not once have I stopped Cooper from hanging out with Heidi or asked him not to invite her somewhere, because I can at least tolerate her for his sake. Why she’s so committed to not giving me the same courtesy, I don’t understand. Instead, it’s always dirty looks and passive-aggressive bullshit. And, apparently, trash-talking behind my back.

  “I still don’t know how she bought Cooper acting like he never met that guy.” Heidi laughs again, smug now. “I mean, wake up and smell the conspiracy, right?”

  Wait, what?

  Is she talking about Preston?

  “I’d feel sorry for her if she wasn’t so gullible.”

  Screw Heidi. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Still, I’d rather know what other bile she’s been spewing behind my back, so I hug the shadows as I creep up the steps, keeping bodies between myself and Heidi, hiding among the other people lingering on the stairs talking.

  “Okay, but it’s been long enough,” another girl says. “He must be into her, don’t you think?”

  “What does it matter?” Heidi offers that dismissive shrug she does. “Eventually she’s got to figure out he’s been lying to her from the start. That he only got with her as a means for revenge.”

  “Leave them alone,” Alana says. “You promised to let it go.”

  I stop dead. Did I hear her right? Because that sounded suspiciously like confirmation.

  What else could it mean?

  “What?” There’s a coy note in Heidi’s tone.

  I’m barely three feet away now. So close I’m shaking.

  “I didn’t say I was going to tell her. Not on purpose, anyway.”

  My heart thumps erratically against my ribs. Alana is standing right there, mouth shut. Not disputing Heidi’s version of events.

  Which means, if I’ve read it right, Cooper has been lying to me since the moment we met.

  Worse, he lied when I confronted him directly. He lied to my face. And he made all his friends—our friends, I thought—go along with the lies. Evan. Steph. Alana.

  I feel small, like I could fall right through the space between the deck boards. Utterly humiliated. Who else knew about it? Have they all been laughing at me behind my back this entire time? Poor, dumb clone.

  “Go on, then,” I say, charging forward to confront the group. “Don’t wait for word to get around, for something to slip—why don’t you tell me to my face, Heidi?”

  Alana has the decency to look contrite. Heidi, however, doesn’t even pretend to hide her smirk.

  Seriously, this girl makes me want to boob-punch her. I’ve tried with her. I really have. Make conversation. Be civil. Give her time. But no matter how much or how little I give, she’s flatly refused to budge from her total contempt. Now I understand why—she and I weren’t in an uneasy truce, but a cold war to which I was oblivious. That was my mistake.

  “I get it, you hate my guts,” I say testily. “Find a new hobby.”

  She narrows her eyes.

  I dismiss her from my gaze, turning to Alana instead. “Is it true? This was some sort of revenge plan against my ex? Cooper lied?”

  Saying it out loud makes me queasy. All the alcohol I consumed tonight churns dangerously in my belly as I replay the events of the last six months. My memory flips through a dozen early conversations with Cooper, wondering what obvious clues I ignored. How many times was the answer right in front of me, but I was too enamored of his fathomless eyes and crooked smile?

  Ever enigmatic, Alana reveals no emotion. Only hesitation. I thought we’d grown close, gotten past the rough patches to actually become friends. Yet here she is, silent, her expression shuttered, while Heidi makes me the butt of her jokes. Guess I really am dumb. They all had me fooled.

  “Alana,” I press, almost cringing at the helplessness I hear in my voice.

  After an interminably long pause, her aloof expression slips, just enough for me to glimpse a flicker of regret.

  “Yes,” she admits. “It’s true. Cooper lied.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  COOPER

  I catch a glimpse of Mac through the flames of the bonfire, a glowing fleeting glimpse, before a wave of beer smacks me in the face.

  “Asshole.”

  Confusion jolts through me. Staggering backward from the firepit, I wipe my eyes with sandy fingers. I blink a few times, using my forearm to mop beer off my face. I blink again, and Mac is directly in front of me, holding an empty red cup in her hand. As our friends all stand there staring at us, I struggle to understand what the hell is happening.

  “Lying asshole,” she repeats with seething ferocity.

  Evan tries to approach her. “Whoa, what was that for?”

  “No. Fuck you too.” She points a warning finger at him. “You lied to me. Both of you.”

  Beyond her slender shoulder, I spot Alana weaving her way through the crowd, trailed by Heidi. Alana looks guilty. Heidi’s expression is one of pure apathy.

  Mac’s expression? Sheer betrayal.

  And now I get it. Reading her face, I feel like I’m falling. It’s like that second when our brains jerk inside our skulls and we experience a frozen moment of terror before the descent, because we know: This is going to hurt. There’s nothing to grab on to now. She’s got me dead to rights.

  “Mac, let me explain,” I start hoarsely.

  “You used me,” she shouts.

  Her arm thrusts forward and the empty cup bounces off my chest. A stunned audience stands silent, retreating to the opposite side of the pit.

  “It was all about revenge this whole time.” She shakes her head repeatedly, the emotions in her eyes running the gamut from embarrassed to incensed to disappointed.

  I think about the first night I approached her, how irritated I was at having to feign interest in some stuck-up clone. How she snuck up on me with her smile and wit.

  What the hell did she ever see in me to make it this far?

  “It started that way,” I admit. I’ve got seconds, maybe, to get this out before she runs off and never speaks to me again, so I drop the bullshit and lay it all on the table. “Yes, I found you because I wanted to get back at him. I was stupid and pissed off. And then I met you and it blew up my whole life, Mac. I fell for you. It’s been the best six months of my life.”

  Some of the hardest months too. All of which she’s endured with me. Despite me. I’ve thrown more shit at this girl than she had any reason to withstand, and still she found her way to love me regardless. Of course I was gonna mess that up. How could I ever think otherwise?

  But holy fucking shit, it hurts worse than I ever could’ve imagined, the thought of losing Mackenzie. My heart feels like it’s being crushed in a vise.

  “And, yeah, I should have come clean a long time ago. But goddamn it, okay, I was scared.” My throat starts closing in on me, cutting off my airway. I suck in a ragged breath. “I was scared of this moment right here. I made a terrible mistake, and I thought if you didn’t find out, it wouldn’t hurt you. I wanted to protect you.”

  “You humiliated me,” she spits out through tears and rage. I want to throw my arms around her and take her pain away, but I’m the one doing this to her, and every second she levels me with that look of devastation rips me apart. “You made me look like an idiot.”

  “Please, Mac. I’ll do anything.” I grab her hands, squeezing when she tries to turn away. Because I know the second she takes that first step, she’s gonna keep walking forever. “I love you. Let me prove it. Give me a chance.”

  “You had a chance.” Tears stream down her cheeks. “You could have told me the truth months ago. You had a million opportunities, including the day I asked you point-blank if you knew Preston, if he got you fired. Bu
t you didn’t tell me the truth. Instead you let everyone laugh at me behind my back.” Mac pulls her hands from mine to wipe her eyes. “I might have been able to forgive you for everything else if you hadn’t lied right to my face. Got to hand it to you, Cooper. You did it so well. And then you got everyone I thought was my friend to lie too. Put me in this perfect little glass house of bullshit for your own amusement.”

  “Mackenzie.” I’m grasping at a rope as it’s sliding through my fingers. With every breath I take, she’s slipping further away. “Let me fix it.”

  “There’s nothing left to fix.” Her expression flattens to an eerie dullness. “I’m going into the house and I’m packing up my stuff and I’m leaving. Because that’s the only thing left for me to do. Don’t try to stop me.”

  Then she turns her back and disappears beyond the glow of the fire.

  There’s silence in her wake.

  “Forget what she said,” Evan blurts out, shoving my shoulder. “Go after her.”

  I stare out at nothingness. “She doesn’t want me to.”

  I know Mac well enough to see when she’s made up her mind. Anything I do now will only chase her off faster, hardening the hatred. Because she’s right. I was a shit person when I met her.

  Nothing I’ve done since has proven different.

  “Then I’ll go,” Evan growls, throwing off my attempt to stop him.

  Whatever. He won’t succeed in changing her mind. She’s leaving.

  She’s gone.

  Everyone else slowly wanders away until I’m left alone on the beach. I sink down to the sand. I sit there for I don’t know how long—so long the bonfire is reduced to cold embers. Evan doesn’t return. No point telling me what I already know. The sun peeks above the waves by the time I trudge back to the house through the remnants of the aborted party.

  Daisy doesn’t come running to be let out when I walk inside. Her water bowl isn’t in the kitchen.

  Half the closet is empty in my room.

  I throw myself on the bed and stare up at the ceiling. I feel numb. Empty.

  I wish I’d known then how hard it would be now to miss Mackenzie Cabot.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  MACKENZIE

  I lived my whole life without Cooper Hartley. Then, six months together and I’ve forgotten what it was not to know him. Six months, and only minutes to shred it to hell.

  One overheard conversation.

  A single devastating admission.

  Quick as blowing out a match, my heart went numb.

  After leaving Cooper’s house in a despondent haze, I sat in the back of a cab with Daisy and paid the guy to drive through town for nearly two hours. At some point, the cab dropped me off at Tally Hall. I showed up at Bonnie’s door with my bag in one hand and Daisy’s leash in the other, and with a sympathetic pout, she welcomed us home. Lucky for me, her new roommate sleeps out most nights. Less lucky, the moment people started getting up for class and trudging through the halls in the morning, Daisy began barking at the unfamiliar foot traffic. In an instant, the resident advisor was on us, demanding that we vacate.

  For Bonnie’s sake, I told him we’d only popped in for a few minutes to say hello, though I’m not sure he bought it. By the afternoon, Daisy and I were in the backseat of another cab, searching for a plan B. Turns out there isn’t a hotel in the Bay that allows pets. Something about a dog show years back that went horribly awry.

  So that’s how I find myself at Steph and Alana’s house. Daisy, the little traitor, hops right onto the couch and into Steph’s lap. I’m a bit more reluctant as I sit down next to Steph, while Alana pleads their case. They’d sent a dozen or so text messages after I’d stormed out of the party. It wasn’t so much the content but the persistence that convinced me of their sincerity.

  “In our defense,” Alana says, standing with her arms crossed, “we didn’t know you’d end up being cool.”

  I have to hand it to her, she’s unapologetically herself. Even in admitting that she had no small part in crafting the revenge plot, she doesn’t have it in her to mince words.

  “For real, though,” she continues. “By the time Cooper told us you two were really a thing, it seemed meaner to tell you the truth.”

  “No,” I say simply. “It was meaner to lie.”

  Because while the truth hurts you, the lie degrades you. When I realized Preston had slept around on me, I understood what it was to be That Girl. For years, our friends had smiled in my face, knowing all along I was his patsy, while I remained oblivious to his “extracurriculars”—his parade of Marilyns. It never occurred to me that Cooper would turn around and lie to me as well. Or that, yet again, the people I called friends would play accomplices to my ignorance. Some lessons we have to learn twice.

  Nevertheless, I’m not entirely without mercy. The mathematics of loyalty are tricky, after all. They were Cooper’s friends first. I can’t not factor that into the equation. It would be well within my rights to hate them both for their part in this charade, but I also see where they got caught in the middle. They should have told me the truth, yes. It was Cooper, though, who swore them to secrecy. It was his ass they were covering.

  If anyone deserves the brunt of the blame, it’s him.

  “We feel awful about it,” Steph says. “It was a crappy thing to do to someone.”

  “Yep,” I agree.

  “We’re sorry, Mac. I’m sorry.” Tentative, she reaches over to squeeze my arm. “And if you need a place to crash, you’re welcome to stay in our spare room, okay? Not just because we owe you, but because you really are cool, and I, we”—she glances at Alana—“consider you a good friend.”

  Despite the awkward implications, staying here is the most attractive option until I find a more permanent solution. Besides, Daisy already seems quite at home.

  “And we won’t discuss Cooper unless you want to,” Alana promises. “Although for what it’s worth, he’s pretty torn up about everything. Evan says he sat on the beach all night in the cold, just staring at the bay.”

  “Am I supposed to feel sorry for him?” I ask with a raised brow.

  Steph laughs awkwardly. “Well, no, and we’re not saying you don’t deserve to be pissed. I’d have complete sympathy if you wanted to torch his truck.”

  “The whole revenge plan was juvenile bullshit,” adds Alana. “But he wasn’t faking liking you. We told him he wasn’t allowed to pretend to fall for you, so that part was completely real.”

  “And he is sorry,” Steph says. “He knows he messed up.”

  I wait a few seconds, but it seems they’ve wrapped up their pitch. Good. Now we can set some boundaries.

  “I get that you two are stuck in the middle of this and that sucks,” I tell the girls. “So how about we set a house rule: I won’t get weird every time someone mentions his name or bitch about him in front of you, and you guys agree not to campaign for him. Deal?”

  Steph gives me a sad smile. “Deal.”

  That night, I allow myself to cry alone in the dark. To feel the pain and anger. Let it rip me open. And then I put it away, bury it deep. I wake up in the morning and I remind myself that there’s a lot more to my life than Cooper Hartley. For the last year, I’ve complained about all the things keeping me from concentrating on my business. Well, there’s nothing stopping me now. I’ve got time in the day and more than enough work between my websites and the hotel to fill it. Time to wipe up my smudged mascara and be a bad bitch.

  Fuck love. Build the empire.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  COOPER

  “Hey, Coop, you in here?”

  “Back here.”

  Heidi finds me in my workshop, where I’ve been holed up for the past six hours. Orders keep pouring in for new furniture pieces via the website Mac had set up for me. She’d asked someone who worked on her apps to design it, and one of her marketing people created an advertising account for my Facebook business page too. Just another way she’d changed my life for the better.
The orders are coming almost faster than I can fill them, so every second I’m not on one of Levi’s jobsites, I’m in here busting my ass to push out new work. Can’t say I mind the distraction. It’s either keep myself occupied, or wallow in self-destructive misery.

  My head jerks up in a quick nod of greeting. I have a raw piece of oak from a fallen tree that I’m chiseling into a chair leg. The repetitive motions—long, smooth strokes—are all that keep me sane these days.

  “Why does your porch look like a funeral home?” Heidi says as she hops on my worktable.

  “Mac. She keeps sending my gifts back.”

  For two weeks now, I’ve tried sending flowers, baskets. All kinds of shit. Every day, they end up on my front porch instead.

  Initially, I was sending them to the hotel, knowing she was out there daily checking on the work Levi has one of his crews starting on. But then I wore Steph down and she told me Mac is staying with her and Alana. I thought for sure I’d at least get one of them to accept delivery. No such luck.

  The intensity with which this chick refuses to let me apologize is fucking ridiculous. She even took our dog. I still wake up in the middle of the night thinking I hear Daisy barking. I’ll roll over and ask Mac if she’s taken her out, only to realize neither of them are there.

  I miss my girls, damn it. I’m losing my mind.

  “Guess that answers the question of where you two stand.” Heidi draws a sad face in the fine yellow dust. “Not for nothing, but I told—”

  “I swear to God, Heidi, you finish that sentence and I better never see your face here again.”

  “Whoa, what the hell, Coop?”

  I put too much force behind the chisel and crack the wood. A huge gash opens down the middle of the chair leg. Dammit. The chisel flies out of my hand and pings off the floor somewhere across the garage.