Page 12 of Don't Date Your Nemesis

I felt it happen in stages. The impact, losing balance, and the horrible realization that I was falling, and then⁠—

Frosting.

Cold frosting in my dark, wavy hair, down my dress and smeared across the side of my face.

I gasped, sputtering, and wiping chocolate mousse from my eyes.

The rooftop had gone silent.

Everyone was staring. I could see phones out, already recording, because of course they were. This was going to be on gossip sites within the hour.

And suddenly I was ten years old again, covered in birthday cake at Ethan’s party, with Liam James standing over me looking smug.

Something inside me snapped.

I grabbed a cupcake from the ruined dessert table (it was red velvet with cream cheese frosting) and launched it directly at Liam’s head.

It hit him square in the face.

Bullseye.

Ha, take that, jerk!

His expression of absolute shock was the most satisfying thing I had seen in six months, and it made my body light up.

“Deepika, honey—” Marcus warned, but I was already grabbing another cupcake.

“You want to play?” I said to Liam, who was wiping frosting from his eyes. “Let’s fucking play.”

“You’re insane,” he said, but he was already reaching for ammunition.

This was it. This was my villain origin story. I was going to murder Liam James with baked goods at my cousin’s engagement party, and honestly? So fucking worth it.

Somewhere in my peripheral vision, I saw Ethan and Kiara watching us, mouths open.

Kiara leaned over to whisper something to Ethan.

Ethan said loud enough for me to hear, “Should we stop them?”

My cousin replied, “Let’s see how this plays out.”

I appreciated that about my cousin. She understood the value of chaos.

“You’ve been a fucking nightmare since we were eight years old,” I said, stalking toward Liam with another cupcake.

“Me? You pushed me into a pool!”

“You lost my grandmother’s ring!”

“You destroyed Ethan’s birthday cake!”

“You told everyone my bra size!” My voice cracked on the last word, and oh god, I was going to cry. Not here. Not now. Not in front of him and Yash and Diya and everyone with their phones out.

Liam froze, cupcake in hand. Something flickered across his face. Regret? Guilt? It was gone too fast to tell.

“Deepika, I⁠—”

“Don’t.” I held up my hand, covered in frosting, throwing it at his suit, smiling at the satisfaction it brought me to see his stormy gray eyes clear and soften and widen all in the span of five seconds. “You’re an asshole. Always have been.”