Fake Dating My Ex’s Brother

~~~Thrill~~~

***

I hear the moans.

I should leave. I should turn around, walk back to my car, and pretend I never came here to surprise Jason on our two-year anniversary with a cake and a promise I was finally ready to lose my v-card to him.

But my feet don't listen. My hand turns the knob anyway. The door swings open, and my heart slams so hard against my ribs as I watch Jason in shock. My Jason. With some girl's legs wrapped around his waist and her back pressed against the headboard I picked out for him last Christmas.

I can't move. I can't breathe. The cake box slips in my sweaty hand. I try to catch it, but I miss.

It hits the floor. The sound is loud across the room.

The girl gasps when she sees me. Jason's head whips toward the door, and our eyes meet. His eyes go wide like he's seeing a ghost. Horror. Pure horror. "Malibu…"

I'm shaking at the betrayal. The tears are rolling down and I can't stop them. I thought he was different. He showed me he was different from other guys. He said he'd wait for me until I was ready. He never pushed me. Never rushed me. Treated me with care.

But seeing this? That fantasy flies out of my mind. He's just like other guys.

Jason quickly climbs off the girl and sits there with fear in his eyes. "You—"

My voice comes out breaking. "You couldn't wait for me just a little bit? It's our two-year anniversary, Jason."

"Malibu, I can explain—"

"Explain what? I saw everything."

His face changes immediately. The fear doesn't go away, but something harder takes over. "Two years, Malibu. Two years I waited. Do you know what that feels like? Do you know what that does to a man?"

My head jerks back. "So… this is my fault?"

"I—I'm not saying that—" He runs a hand through his hair. "I waited," he says again, quieter this time. His voice sounds like he's about to cry. "I was patient. I never pushed you. I did everything right. And you still—" He stops himself. Shakes his head. "What was I supposed to think? That you didn't want me? That something was wrong with me?"

"You can't put this on me. You could have communicated."

"I—I made a mistake." He's looking at me with pleading eyes now.

I scoff. "A mistake?"

"Malibu. We can communicate now. It was the devil. I swear it."

He's blaming the devil now?

"Just forget you saw this. It's that simple. I don't even like her." The girl looks at him in disbelief. But he doesn't take his eyes off me. "I love you." His voice breaks. "We can go back to how it was. I'll be better. I swear, baby, I'll be better. I'll wait longer for you until you're ready. Just —"

"No!" The word comes out of my mouth unexpectedly. I wipe my eyes. A shocked look crosses his face. "No. This… is over." I gesture between us. "We're done, Jason."

I don't listen to whatever else he has to say. I turn and run.

He calls my name. I hear him trip over something as he chases after me. But I don't look back. I throw myself into my car.

My hands shake so hard I can barely get the key in the ignition. I try once. Try again. It won't go in. The key drops from my hand and falls somewhere between my feet.

I don't reach for it. Instead, I slam both hands against the steering wheel and scream.

The horn blares.

The tears come again — the kind that burns your throat and leaves you gasping for air.

I don't remember parking. I don't remember walking up to the sorority house. I don't remember opening the door. But I'm here. Standing in the doorway of our room.

I walk in. I don't even look at Paris.

"Malibu? How was —"

I fall onto my bed and press my face into the pillow, sobbing hard. I can't stop seeing it. Jason. Fucking that girl. On the bed where we used to fall asleep watching movies. Where he told me he loved me for the first time.

"What happened?" Paris asks.

I turn my head just enough to breathe. "Jason." A sniff. "I caught him cheating."

She goes still. Then her voice rises as she throws her hands in the air. "That bastard! I never liked him." She pulls me upright. Tears still streak down my face. "It's okay," she says.

I slowly shake my head. How do I heal from this? The memories play over and over. Two years I waited. What was I supposed to think? That you didn't want me?

Maybe he was right. Maybe something is wrong with me.

"Hey." Paris grips my shoulders. "Don't let him inside your head. You know what?" She tilts her head and gives me a small smile. "How about you come with me to the Halloween party?"

My brows narrow. Is she serious?

"I—I can't, Paris." My voice cracks. "I just watched my boyfriend of two years inside another girl."

"That's exactly why you need to go."

"I can't even look at myself right now." I pull away from her and lie back down. "I just want to stay here."

"Then what?" Paris stands over me, hands on her hips. "Cry your eyes out while he's out there having the time of his life? If you stay here, you'll replay that moment over and over until it breaks you." Her voice softens with a sigh. "He cheated. Not you. He's trash. He doesn't deserve your tears." She sits on the edge of the bed. "Come with me. One hour. If you hate it, we leave."

I close my eyes. Jason's face flashes behind my lids. His desperate begging. I love you. I'll be better.

Liar.

I open my eyes. "Okay." A breath. "One hour."

Forty minutes later, we enter the house where the party is happening. I'm dressed in Paris's Wonder Woman costume. She wears Cat Woman.

Her boyfriend — one of the hockey players who lives in this dorm — meets us in the doorway. He kisses her, then looks at me.

"Nice costume, Malibu."

"Thank you, Oscar."

His arm wraps around Paris, and he walks us inside.

The party is lively. People are dressed in all kinds of costumes. Music shakes the walls.

"Come." Paris stretches her hand out to me. "Dance with me." I hesitate. But she won't take no for an answer. I put my hand in hers. She drags me to the front, and I dance with her. But her boyfriend is all over her, so I end up dancing alone.

Out of nowhere, a hand grabs my waist.

I freeze. The warmth of his grip sends a chill down my spine — not the good kind. I turn around.

It's a stranger. His hold is firm. His dark gaze makes my stomach drop. I take two steps back. "I'm… not in the mood for a dance."

"Come on. Just one dance." His tone is dismissive. He sounds drunk.

I shake my head and retreat further, but he lunges forward and grabs my hand before I can walk away. Panic surges through me as I fight to break free.

Suddenly, a hand seizes his wrist and yanks it away from mine with surprising strength.

"The young lady doesn't want to dance." His voice is low, regulated. "A no is a no."

I raise my head to look at him. My breath catches.

He is tall. Very tall. Handsome, with a sharp jawline and dark wavy hair. He is dressed as Green Arrow.

"Are you alright?" he asks, bringing me back to reality.

I nod immediately. “Thank you.”

"You’re welcome?" He smirks. "I'm Rafael." He extends his hand toward me. "Nice costume."

I hesitate. Then I finally put my hand in his. "Thrill."

My hand is quickly snatched away from behind. Paris drags me several feet back, away from him.

"What are you doing?" she hisses.

"What? I was clearly having a conversation." I pull my hand back. "Isn't that what you wanted? For me not to sulk but to have fun?"

"Yes. That's what I want. But not with Jason's brother."

My eyes widen. My heart slams against my chest.

Jason's brother?

My head whips toward the handsome, gorgeous guy, then back to her. "Jason has a brother?" My voice comes out small.

Paris looks at me weirdly. "You didn't know?" She blinks. "Gosh, Malibu. He was your boyfriend for two years!"

"I —" My words catch in my throat.

I'm unbelievable. I don't know anything about Jason. I've never met his family. Never seen a photo. Never been to his house. He always said soon.

Soon never came.

"You've got to be kidding me." Paris gestures toward him. "That's Rafael Carrington. Jason's brother. And the captain of the hockey team." She stares at me. "Everyone knows this."

Everyone knows this?

I don’t know this.

I stare at him. He's still watching me with those dark eyes.

Paris tugs my arm. "Come on. We should go."

But I don't move. Because as I stare at him, a stupid, reckless, terrible thought crawls into my head.

What if I use him to get back at Jason?