Page 103 of Wicked Lord

I huffed out an exasperated breath. “Chill, Ax, I’m fine. I was up late so I turned off my phone so I could sleep in.”

“Up late doing what?”

Drowning the pain in a bottle of wine, trying not to imagine the incredible make-up sex he and Cordelia were surely having. Nope, I couldn’t very well tell him the truth. Lie, it is then. “Just hanging out at the house. Some ATO’s stopped by, and we were drinking?—”

“Seriously? Not you, too?”

“What do you care? The fake dating scam worked, right? I figured I was a free woman now.” Part of the stipulation of the agreement was a public breakup. I hated the idea of everyone thinking he went back to Cordelia while we were still together.

I dreaded the thought of what was to come…

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” he gritted out. “Can I come over?”

“Um, yeah, I guess.” I drew in a steadying breath, reminding myself I needed to ask him this favor before I lost my nerve. “There’s something I need to ask you, too. I just need like half an hour. I’m still in my pjs.”

“It’s twelve-thirty in the afternoon and Lorelei Battenberg isn’t dressed yet?” A hint of the teasing Axel I knew and loved snuck through.

“Everyone deserves a minute of downtime, right?”

“Right, yeah, of course. I’ll even give you an hour if you want.”

“Perfect, see you then.”

The idea of seeing Axel again had a horde of angry butterflies lashing at my insides, but it was better than the alternative. Dropping my phone back on the nightstand, I slid to the edge of the bed and dragged my fingers through my hair.

You can do this, Lorelei. Just one more day of pretending. We just had to plan a nice, public breakup, but I had to make sure to keep it amicable. Because if Plan B was to work, it meant Axel and I would have to be friends.

Again, my stomach twisted at the thought.

Would I be able to withstand seeing Axel and Cordelia together day in and day out without losing it?

Throwing my shoulders back, I pushed myself off the bed and marched to the bathroom. I had to. I was Lorelei fucking Battenberg, and I would do what I must to survive.

The knock at the door came much too quickly. Or maybe it was because I’d spent the last hour panicking. I hazarded one last peek at the mirror before marching to the door. Hair perfectly curled – check. Makeup applied flawlessly but not overdone – check. Lips a light pink gloss – check.

I tugged on the hem of my cute floral sundress, which had an annoying tendency to ride up, one final time before forcing my feet to the door.

It's just Axel. Your friend. Who you’ve seen literally every day the entire summer.

You’ve got this, Lore.

With one hand on the knob, I drew in a steadying breath and forced the practiced smile into place.And open it. I willed my wrist to twist, but my entire body was frozen with fear. Was I scared to lose the one decent guy I’d ever had in my life? Yes. Terrified to be forced into the arms of a psycho? Also, yes. My heart kicked at my ribs, desperate to escape the skeletal prison.

“Lore? You okay?” Axel’s voice grounded me, jerking me back from the brink of a total meltdown.

“Yeah, just a sec,” I forced out.

Heaving in another deep breath, I yanked the door open before I lost my nerve. Axel stumbled in, as if he’d been pressed to the other side of the dark timber. His hands curled around my shoulders as he steadied himself, a faint rosy hue blossoming across his cheeks.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered as he took a step back, releasing me.

Then his bright blue eyes razed over me, scorching a trail from the tip of my nose, down to my strappy sandals. Hestudied the slight dip in the scoop neck of my sundress, and a wicked grin tipped up the corners of his lips. For some reason, it made my stupid heart double in size. Once he finished the slow scrutiny, his eyes lifted to mine once more.

“Well, blondie, you sure don’t look hungover.”

I shrugged. “I clean up well.”

“You sure do.” He stood just inside my room, not quite in the doorway but close enough where I couldn’t quite shut the door. Running his hand across the back of his neck, he remained, eyes intent on mine. His jaw worked, a tendon feathering as if he was about to speak but nothing ever came out.