Fake Dating The Bad Boy-Chapter 10: Played

Justin

I turned my attention back to the screen, trying to act like she wasn't there, like I wasn't completely aware of every damn breath she took beside me.

The rain outside hammered against the windows, the storm still in full force. She should've left. I should've made her leave.

But I didn't.

Instead, I grabbed the remote and turned up the volume. Drowned out the thoughts. Drowned out the fact that for the first time in years, someone other than me was inside this apartment.

She shifted beside me, pulling her knees up to her chest. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her staring at the screen, her expression blank. But I wasn't stupid. She wasn't watching.

I ignored it.

For a while, we just sat there. The only sound in the room was the dialogue from the TV and the heavy rain outside.

Then, out of nowhere—

"I hate him."

Her voice was low, sharp.

I didn't react. Didn't respond.

"I hate that I begged." She exhaled, shaking her head. "I hate that I cried in front of him. In front of everyone."

Still, I said nothing.

I could feel the anger rolling off her, thick and suffocating, mixing with whatever the hell was brewing inside me.

She let out a bitter laugh. "You think I'm pathetic, don't you?"

I finally turned to look at her.

Her eyes were red-rimmed, her jaw clenched tight. But it wasn't just from crying. It was anger. Shame.

I leaned back, exhaling slowly. "It's none of my business."

Her lips parted slightly like she expected a different answer. Maybe she wanted me to agree, to confirm whatever self-loathing bullshit she had going on in her head.

Not my problem.

She scoffed, shaking her head. "Figures."

I didn't bite.

I wasn't about to play therapist. Not my thing.

But she wasn't done.

"He was with her, you know." Her hands curled into fists against her knees. "My best friend. The person I trusted most. He left me for her."

I clenched my jaw. Not because I cared—because I didn't. But because I'd already put the pieces together, and hearing it confirmed only pissed me off more.

"I gave him everything," she continued. "Every part of me. And he just—" She snapped her fingers. "Like I was nothing."

Something dark twisted in my gut. Not sympathy. Not pity. Something else.

I shouldn't have cared.

I didn't care.

But for some reason, watching her break apart like this right in front of me... it did something to me.

She was angry.

But me?

I was fucking furious.

I gripped the armrest, my fingers curling around the fabric as I forced myself to breathe. Forced myself to keep my emotions locked down where they belonged.

June inhaled sharply, like she was trying to compose herself, then wiped her face. "Forget it," she muttered. "I shouldn't have said anything."

I didn't respond.

She sighed, pulling the sleeves of my hoodie over her hands before tucking her legs tighter against her chest. Then she turned her attention back to the TV, pretending like the conversation never happened.

Fine.

Good.

I didn't want to talk about it either.

But that rage? That thing simmering deep inside me, burning hotter by the second?

Yeah.

That wasn't going anywhere.

The storm outside hadn't let up. The rain kept pounding against the windows, filling the silence between us. The movie kept playing, but neither of us were really watching.

June shifted beside me. I could feel her staring, even before she spoke.

"Do you think he'll regret it?"

I didn't look at her.

"Do you think Bart will realize he made a mistake and... and come back?"

My fingers twitched on the armrest. My jaw tightened.

I should've ignored her. Should've let the question hang in the air, let it dissolve into nothing.

But I didn't.

New novel 𝓬hapters are published on freёwebnoѵel.com.

Instead, I turned my head slightly, just enough to glance at her. Her eyes were locked onto me, wide and expectant, waiting for an answer.

"Do you want him to?" I asked flatly.

She blinked, hesitating, before her lips parted. "I just... I just want to know if he'd ever beg the way I did."

Something dark and ugly coiled in my gut.

She wasn't asking because she wanted to move on. She wasn't asking because she wanted revenge. She was asking because she wanted him back.

I looked away, exhaling slowly, controlling the burning fury creeping up my spine.

This entire time, I knew she was using me. I knew she had some stupid, petty reason for dragging me into this mess. But this?

This was worse.

She wanted to make him jealous. She wanted to make him regret it. But not because she wanted to hurt him. Because she wanted him to crawl back to her.

I should've said something. Should've told her how fucking pathetic it was to even think about taking him back after what he did.

But I didn't.

Because I didn't care.

Not my problem.

Not my fucking business.

"People like him don't beg," I said finally, voice even, controlled. "They don't regret. They just move on to the next."

She swallowed, her eyes dropping to her lap. "So that's a no?"

I exhaled sharply through my nose and stood up, ignoring the urge to say something cruel.

Instead, I walked to my bedroom, yanked a duvet from my closet, and came back. She was still sitting there, looking small in my hoodie, curled up like a lost fucking puppy.

I tossed the duvet onto the couch next to her.

"Sleep there," I muttered. "I'm going to bed."

She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, maybe argue, but I didn't wait to hear it.

I turned and walked away, shoving my bedroom door shut behind me.

The second I was alone, I let my hands curl into fists, let the anger simmer just beneath my skin.

I fucking hated this.

I hated that I agreed to this stupid plan. I hated that I let her drag me into this bullshit. I hated that I let myself think, even for a second, that she wanted something different.

But most of all—

I hated that a small, twisted part of me was furious at the idea of her wanting him back.