Hard Bastard(155)

“God, you’re frustrating,” she said, taking a deep sip of her wine.

“Only because I’m right.”

“You’re definitely not right.” She looked around the place and leaned in. “You’re an arrogant dick. Now, please, will you sign the divorce papers?”

I gave her a long look, leaning back in my chair. I sipped my drink and pretended to think about it. She looked at me apprehensively, clearly on the edge of her seat.

I knew what the right answer was. I should just divorce her and be done with it. I was not interested in having a wife, much less a wife that was also my fucking stepsister. Plus all the drama with our parents. I didn’t need any of that shit.

But the look on her face was just too damn much for me. She was all sex, pure fire and sin, and I couldn’t help myself when I was around her. It was too much damn fun stringing her along, playing this little game, and I didn’t want to give it up just yet. I wanted to get her to the point where she was begging me for it before I finally gave it to her.

It was a challenge. I wanted to make her mine, finally and fully mine, while denying her the thing she truly wanted. In the end, she’d get what she wanted, both the divorce and my cock. But for the time being, I wanted to see how it all played out.

“No,” I said finally. “No. I think we’ll stay married.” I smiled broadly at her. “Wife.”

The look on her face was more than worth it.

I knew it was the wrong thing. Part of me wanted to just be done with it all.

But sometimes the wrong thing was too much damn fun. And I was the type of guy to give in to the wrong thing more often than not.

Maybe I could teach her a little more about living like the future wasn’t coming. Either way, I knew it was going to be a fun summer.





Chapter 5





Alexa





I was speechless. After Cole told me that he wasn’t going to give me a divorce, that he believed me but just didn’t care, I was absolutely speechless.

I wasn’t even angry, at first. It just seemed like a nightmare, some kind of bad joke, and it didn’t register. We finished up our meal and went home without much more happening. I even barely noticed the motorcycle ride.

Back alone in my room, it began to sink in.

The asshole believed me. He had just been messing with me the whole time.

Worse, he wasn’t going to sign the papers. He wasn’t going to make this easy for me, after all the stress and worry I had gone through, after everything.

My chance to divorce him and be done with the whole embarrassing episode was right there, but he refused to help me.

Asshole. Arrogant, self-center, unbelievable dickhead.

What made him think he could say no? We weren’t married, not really. Sure, okay, legally we were married, but what did that even mean? It wasn’t like we were in love or had any sort of connection. The man had disappeared into the jungle as soon as the vacation was over, rendering any sort of relationship impossible.

Yet somehow he felt that he could call me “wife” and move into my house and boss me around. Who the hell was this guy?

Aside from my husband and my stepbrother, of course.

I was practically fuming as I sat at my desk, scrolling through Twitter.

some people need to understand BOUNDARIES I tweeted. I was so annoyed that I had succumbed to random acts of vague social media complaining. I hated when people said really generic things that were obviously aimed at specific people, but I couldn’t help myself.

sometimes what you want isn’t as important as you think it is I tweeted next. It made me feel a little bit better, even if nobody understood what I was talking about. Actually, that was part of it. I liked that I could complain about my secret in public without anyone knowing anything.

quit being so arrogant. You’re not that cool and motorcycles are stupid. #mmaisforlosers. I grinned at that one before finally hitting send.

It didn’t change anything. I was still in the same situation as I was before, except now I had just sent out some passive-aggressive and vaguely bratty messages to a bunch of strangers. Still, it made me feel a little better to vent. Maybe I needed to give Lacey a call. She knew all about my situation and definitely loved a good bitch-session. If anyone was going to appreciate me being mean about Cole, she definitely would. Plus, I was looking forward to hearing her surprise at my insanely impossible situation.

A few minutes later, I checked my feed again and stared at what I saw. Somebody had liked my last tweet, but it wasn’t someone I recognized.

His username was FighterColeMMA.

I clenched my fists. There was no way it was him. He couldn’t be stalking me online, too, could he?

I stood up, deciding not to waste any time. I pushed open my bedroom door and then banged on his door. “Cole!” I said.