Page 8 of Don't Date Your Nemesis

I was mortified that my nemesis knew my deepest, darkest secret. So I had done what any mature fourteen-year-old boy would do. I lashed out.

“At least I’m not stuffing my bra,” I smirked.

Her face had gone white. “What?”

And because I was an idiot, I doubled down. When we emerged from the closet, someone had asked what happened, and I said, loud enough for half the party to hear, “Nothing much. Just learned Deepika’s a thirty-four-b.”

The room had gone silent except for the few guys who laughed at Deepika. But I knew I had messed up big time when Kiara and Ethan glared at me while her cousin’s eyes, the glittery ones, filled with tears.

I had realized, too late, that I had crossed a line I couldn’t uncross.

She left the party. Just grabbed her coat and walked out into February in San Francisco, which wasn’t even cold, but she looked so small and hurt that I felt sick.

I wanted to follow her and apologize, but I was frozen, surrounded by people laughing. And by the time I worked up the courage to go after her, she was gone and I couldn’t find her.

We never spoke again.

“Liam?” Kiara asked. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Just... thinking.” I said, forcing a smile. “I’m sure Deepika and I will be perfectly civil.” Very civil. No punching or throwing each other off the balcony.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Kiara muttered, but she was already being pulled away by someone else who wanted to admire her ring.

Ethan appeared at my elbow, grinning like an idiot. Love looked good on him. It made the sharper edges of him softer, his differently colored eyes shine.

“Dude, Kiara’s cousin is coming tonight. You remember Deepika, right?”

Not again.

“So I’ve been told,” I said, taking a long drink of champagne.

I’d need the alcohol if I had to face her.

“Maybe you two will finally get along.”

I looked at my best friend and tried not to laugh hysterically. “Sure, we will. It’s your and Kiara’s special day after all.”

“Good,” he said with a small smile. “Because if you ruin it and make Bella angry…”

I shuddered, thinking about it. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Ethan sighed and nodded. “She’s really hoping you two can be friends. You know, for the wedding and stuff.” He clapped me on the shoulder and wandered off to greet more guests.

Friends with Deepika Sharma? The girl I spent my entire childhood tormenting, culminating in the most mortifying moment of both our lives.

This was fine. Everything was fine.

I checked my phone, and it was half past seven, and Miss Uptight was officially late.

Maybe she wouldn’t show. Maybe she was attending someone’s funeral on the weekend at night. Maybe she was communing with the Devil⁠—

“Liam, darling, this party is charming, but when do we eat? I haven’t had carbs since Thursday.”

Valentina, my date for the night, said, sliding beside me. She was six feet tall in heels, legs for days, and bone structure that made photographers weep. And unfortunately, completely wrong for me in every possible way.

But she photographed well, and Xavier had suggested I bring someone ‘visually impressive’ to counter the latest tabloid disaster. Valentina was a model I had met at a campaign shoot. She was nice enough, smart enough, and crucially aware that this was purely transactional.

“There are appetizers circulating,” I said, gesturing vaguely.