8

"What the hell, why didn’t you say that was the reason you were holding me so tightly?" I whisper-yelled, face flushed in shame, as I grabbed the dress holding it infront my naked body.

"If you weren't too much of a bitch, maybe I would have." Jace irritating voice drags me out of my thought. I bite down on every comeback screaming in my throat, now’s not the time.

"Can you please turn around?" I asked, and to my surprise, he actually did. Clutching the dress tightly around my arm, I rushed to the wardrobe corner, where I'd left my black dress.

After minutes of wondering how I'm going to face Jace again, I slowly made my way back to the studio. He was still there, standing exactly where I left him, his back to me.

I swallowed. "You can look now."

He turned around quickly, that stupid smirk on his face. Great, if only the ground could swallow me this instant.

"So..." he began, his gaze dragging over me like I was still naked.

I crossed my arms over my chest. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to Jace, but curiosity always had a way of winning, "So what?"

"Let's settle this." He mumbled, causing me to roll my eyes, but again my curiosity won.

"Settle what?"

"Our differences, I suggest friendship. We didn't have a good start at the elevator, then the mess of today. And I know you hate me for reasons unknown to me, but I would like us to put everything aside, atleast for Ethan." He said, no hint of sarcasm in his voice.

I almost chuckled, of course he doesn't know why I hate him. I clenched my fists at the bitter memory, waiting for him to laugh about wanting to be friends after all the mess he put me through in highschool, but he doesn't. Wait? He's actually serious.

"I don't hate you." I lie.

"No?"

"No, I'm just particularly not happy over your existence." I shrug it off, and he laughs. A real laugh.

"So this is how we are going to play it." He says taking a step closer, as he extends his hand as if he wants me to shake it, "Shake it, or I'II increase you're workload at work." He says, looking down at his outstretched hand.

"Are you seriously threatening me?” I laughed, shaking my head.

"No, I..." He trailed off, then continued. "Yes I am threatening you, but only because you said you didn't care about my existence, and that shit hurt my feelings." He placed a hand over his chest dramatically.

Drama Queen.

There was only one way to shut this arrogant idiot up... and lucky for me, it fit my plan perfectly.

"Friends." I shake his stupid hands. All I have to do is pretend we are cool, while I plan his downfall.

"Just like that?" He asks like he doesn't believe it. Well, he shouldn't because it's a trap.

"Yes, so can you please just leave me alone now." I snapped, already walking out. His footsteps followed behind me, then his voice.

"You didn't bring a ride, come on, let me drive you.”

I turned around, squinting my eyes. "Really?"

"Sure. That’s what friends are for," he said, grinning like it was obvious.

I didn't say a word as we walked out of the studio, his hand placed on my lower back. Eight years it has been, and the boy who wrecked me still had no clue who I was. And maybe that should’ve made things easier. I had a fiancé, a plan, this was supposed to be just a game, just revenge. So why did one simple touch from Jace Weston still make my pulse race?