Page 28 of Don't Date Your Nemesis

And that’s when I saw it. The hickey on my neck. It was a light shade of purple and looked very obvious.

“You gave me a hickey, you… you dirty dog!” I spun around and grabbed the nearest pillow, launching myself at him.

We crashed onto one of the broken beds, and I smacked him repeatedly with the pillow while he laughed, trying to defend himself.

“You need to find new insults if you’re using Bollywood dialogue on me, Sharma!”

“I’ll show you Bollywood⁠—”

We rolled, and suddenly he had me pinned, hands above my head, both of us breathing hard. His face was inches from mine, flushed and beautiful and… stupid.

His eyes dropped to my lips, then back to my face. “Are you slacking off, hm?”

“Let me go,” I said, squirming and trying to ignore how his weight felt on top of me, how right it felt despite everything.

He hummed, licking his lips in a way that should be illegal. “I don’t think I want to.”

“Let me go now or I’ll scream.”

His smirk turned wicked. “Like last night?”

And then the absolute menace pitched his voice higher, mimicking me, “Oh, Liam! Right there! Hurry up, please!”

I am going to murder him.

He must have seen it in my eyes, because he loosened his grip, and I immediately smacked his chest, shoving him away.

“You’re sick! Sick in the head! Sick everywhere!”

He rolled onto his back on the broken bed, still laughing, and I grabbed my purse, shoving everything back inside that he had emptied last night in his haste to find⁠—

I paused, staring at the two empty condom wrappers on the nightstand. We had done it twice.

I need to cleanse myself in the River Ganges.

I took a deep breath. This was fine. Everything was fine. We were both adults. Adults who made a spectacularly poor decision, fueled by champagne, tequila and seventeen years of unresolved tension.

“We tell no one about this,” I said, turning to face him.

He was buttoning his shirt, fingers moving efficiently. “Duh. It’d be a disaster if we did.”

“Complete disaster,” I said.

“Not to mention, it’ll ruin my reputation.”

“Your reputation?” I asked, crossing my arms. “You mean the one that’s already ruined with your playboy image?”

His jaw tightened. “You should worry about yourself, Sharma. I’m not the one whose boyfriend slept with my identical twin sister⁠—”

The words hung in the air.

His face changed immediately, realizing he had gone too far, but the damage was done.

My expression went cold, all the warmth from moments ago evaporating. “I’m leaving.”

I grabbed my purse and headed for the door, vision blurring slightly because I would not cry in front of Liam fucking James.

Before I could reach the door, his hand wrapped around my wrist.