Fake-dating my F1 Racer Ex-boyfriend

Elena's pov

My headache pulsed in time with the elevator music as a girl chatted beside me. I flicked a glance in her direction, taking in her sleek brown ponytail and the tight McDonald's uniform and jeans that made her look more like a beauty queen than a part-timer. While I, on the other hand, look like a homeless person in my oversized hoodie and sweatpants.

Way to go, Elena.

I shifted my gaze to the elevator and took my long sip of my matcha, hoping I'd get to my floor as soon as possible.

Luckily, I did.

I hauled my luggage out and practically, dragged them and by them, I meant a pink dufflebag sitting on a medium sized box and a larger black box. I packed light this time.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I took it out.

Micah was calling.

I connected my airpod and answered. “I'm not dead.”

“Your line hasn't been reachable for hours. What happened?” He asked, worried about lacing his tone. Typical big brother.

I rolled my eyes. “Tell that to your landlord. The wifi in this building sucks.”

He laughs softly. “I'll keep that in mind. Are you at the apartment already?”

“Yeah.” I answered. My voice trailed off when I found the McDonald girl headed towards a familiar door.

“Hey, Micah?”

“Yeah?” My brother sighed. “What now?”

“Your apartment room number doesn't happen to be A103, right?” Because that's the door the McDonald chick was standing in front of.

“Yeah. It's A103,” he replied. “Is something wrong?”

“Kinda,” I stop dragging my bag. “Someone ordered McDonald's from that apartment and it's definitely not me. You know I don't like greasy food.”

“Oh shoot. It's probably the electrician. I told him to install nightlights in the guest bedroom. I know how you can't sleep without them.” He explained innocently.

“Nightlights? You still remember?” My hand flew to my chest dramatically.

“How would I ever forget? You're my sister.”

“I am.”

“You'll be good, right? If you need anything, don't hesitate to —”

“I'll be fine, Micah. I'm not a baby anymore.” I said, trying not to remember the accident that nearly took my life a year ago on the ice rink.

“If I need money, I'll let you know.” I added with a pep voice so he wouldn't get more worried than he already was.

He laughs and ends the call.

“Okay,” I exhale softly. “Let's go see some night lights installations.”

I dragged my box to ROOM A103 and knocked.

The door swung open.

“Thank you,” I said, reaching for the duffle bag. “My brother said you're installing nightlights in the guest bedroom and I'm worried about the colour. Don't tell me you used green lights because they're…”

The rest of those words got stuck in my throat because the man standing before me wasn't an electric. Hell, he didn't even look like one.

His torso was naked with 6 packs sprawled across his tanned stomach. A tattoo of the Medusa with a strange writing, probably Italian. I followed my gaze up his broad-shoulders, trimmed beard and then his grey eyes.

My jaws dropped when I recognized the 6’ foot giant standing before me.

No way. I was probably drunk but I only drank matcha. Maybe, it could be a dream and I haven't woken up yet. That's probably it. I closed my eyes, hoping to wake up in Saint-Pierre’s Sports Rehabilitation Centre when a deep voice called my name.

“Elena?”

I threw my eyes open and found him, still standing before me.

Why the hell is he here?

“Sir, your takeout’s ready.” The McDonald girl who didn't know how to read the room spoke from behind him.

“Thanks. You can leave.” He told her.

She hesitated and God knows why. “But…”

“Go.” His eyes never left mine while he spoke.

The brunette walked past him, shooting me glare before she paddled down the hallway.

I stared wide-eyed, my pulse racing. Unwanted memories of lips against lips and skin against skin filled my head and I shoved them back in the deepest recesses of my mind. That was all in the past. I've already moved on.

I clenched the handle of my box and glared. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment, Ethan?”

“That's no way to greet your ex,” he grinned. “And besides, this isn't your apartment.”

“No, it isn't,” I tilted my chin. “But the owner gave me a spare key and told me to stay here for as long as I can.”

Ethan had the effrontery to shrug. “Well, Micah said the same thing to me and he's my best friend."

“He's my brother.” I countered.

“Same thing.”

“No, it's not,” he shook his head. That insufferably composed face of his bright with a smile.

“Sorry to burst your delusional bubble, buddy but blood is thicker than water. Now, get out of my way!” I snapped at the end, which wasn't my intention because I was exhausted, jet-lagged and in need of a 24 hours sleep.

I shoved past him, dragging my luggage with me.

Ethan followed behind me, carrying the last box.

I snatched it from him with a hiss. “Boundaries!”

“Or you could say thank you.” He shrugged again.

Ugh!

“Isn't it time you left? You have a mansion in Manhattan as well as a full apartment complex, why are you here?”

He sank deep into a couch and put his feet up on the bronze centre table. “Well, I live here now.”

I blinked once, twice, then I let out a sharp, mirthless laugh.

“You live here?” I repeated. “Since when!”

“It's been 6 months.”

Something in my soul fractured, like a delicate piece of glass shattering on a marble floor.

I dropped my suitcase. “Absolutely not.”

He cocked his head. “That looks like your suitcase.”

“I don't care what it looks like!” I snapped, taking a step forward. “You need to leave.”

He tilted his head. “I do not.”

I froze. “You do not?”

“I do not.” He shrugged as if to spite me, knowing how much I hated seeing him do that!

I exhaled a slow, dangerous breath. “I believe you misunderstand me here.”

“I don't think so.”

“I said,” I enunciated each word carefully, “leave.”

“And I said, no.”

I glared at him. At this point, I wished the laser could out of my eyes and obliterate him from existence.

“Alright,” I said, my voice soft, “let me try this a different way.”

“I've had a very long flight,” I said, “I'm exhausted beyond human capacity and I am trying my absolute best not to turn into a monster.”

He nodded once. “That sounds like it could be difficult.”

“It is,” I agreed, “which is why you need to get out ASAP.”

He paused. “Still no.”

“What in heaven's name is wrong with you?!” I demanded.

He shrugged. “I’m hungry. You want some soda? It's pretty cold just the way you like.”

“I am allergic!” Which is a lie but I said that to piss him off.

His expression softened. “Oh. So much has changed in a year huh.”

“Two years actually. You broke up with me before the accident, remember?”

Ethan swallowed a wince. “I'm sorry.”

“Save it,” I held up my hand. “Just go.”

He rose to his feet and for a moment, I thought he was going to one of the bedrooms to grab his stuff but he paused by the kitchen counter and brought out a soda can.

What the —

“Soda makes you happy when you're upset and don't even say you're allergic. I know everything about you, El. You can't lie to me.” He handed me the soda.

When I didn't take it, he put it in my hand.

Damn him and his stupid retentive memory and boyish charms.

He gently reached for my elbow and led me to the couch where I sat.

“So what is this now? Some kind of intervention?” I scoff as I lean back on the couch. Damn, it's so soft.

A smile tipped at the corner of Ethan's mouth before he replied. “Yeah. We need that if we're going to be roommates.”

I shot up from the couch. “Room what?”

“Easy there, El,” he held my hand and made me sit back down. “I never wanted to be here in the first place.”

“And you think I want you here?” I scoffed.

“Absolutely not,” he sighed. “But Micah insisted.”

I froze. “He did what?”

“After your accident in the Grand Prix, Micah… nearly lost himself,” Ethan ran his hand through his hair. “He refused to leave your side for days. Couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. I'd never seen a man cry before but Micah did. He blamed himself for what happened.”

I swallowed hard. The memory of that night returned to me. The sound of my head hitting the ice. Micah's panicked screams. The relentless wail of the ambulance. The world is blipping around me in a shade of red.

I fisted my hands and steadied my breathing like my therapist taught me to whenever I was on the verge of a panic attack.

I lifted my gaze to meet Ethan's and he continued softly.

“Micah was worried something terrible might happen so he asked me to come stay with you.”

“That's it?” I arched my brow.

Ethan nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” I rose to my feet and walked over to my suitcase.

Behind me, I heard him rustle. “Where are you going?”

“Back to Australia.” I announced.

“You literally just got here!”

“Yeah,” I confirmed, pulling the door open. “But I can take care of myself. I don't need anyone.”

“Wait!”

I stopped and turned. “What now?”

“This is your brother's apartment,” he said, his voice low. “You have nowhere else to go right now, do you?”

I hated that he was stating a fact instead of a question. I hated that he was correct.

I clenched my jaw. “That is not your concern.”

He sighed. “It is if we're both living here.”

“We are not both living here.”

“We are.”

“We are not.”

Then, with an unnerving amount of casualness, he added, “We can set rules.”

I frowned. “Rules?”

“Yes.”

My eyes narrowed. “Such as?”

He seemed to consider it. “You don't touch my belongings.”

I scoffed. “Oh please, I wouldn't touch them if they were on fire.”

A small laughter broke out. “Good.” We're on the same page then.”

I hated that stupid smile on his face. I hated that timbre of his voice when he wasn't deliberately trying to antagonize me. I hated everything.

Then, as if it was the most obvious suggestion in the world, “We should add one more rule.”

I crossed my arms. “Oh? And what's that?”

“If one of us falls in love," he said, his gaze steady, "the other person moves out.”

I stared at him, then I laughed again. This time it was genuine.

"Me?" I said, incredulous. "Fall in love with you again?”

His face was impassive. "I didn't say myself."

I shook my head. “Well, that's the funniest thing I have ever heard in my entire life. Don't worry. I won't make the same mistake twice.”

“Great,” he smirked. "It should be easy for us to reach an agreement then."

I studied him for a solid ten seconds, then I broke into a slow smile. “Fine.”

His eyebrows went up fractionally.

“But hear this,” I said firmly. “If I do fall in love, it will not be with you.”

“I know.” He said, biting back a smile. Only God knows why.

I rolled my eyes and said. “I'm changing the locks.”

He nodded. “Fair.”

I picked up my suitcase again. “You're lucky I'm exhausted.”

"I know."

"And hurt."

"I remember."

"And mentally and morally depleted."

"That's a new one."

I walked past him toward what I assumed was my room, then I turned back around. He was still there watching me.

I pointed at him again. "This is temporary, pal."

He nodded. "Everything is."

I hated his answer, so I did the only thing I could think of.

I slammed the bedroom door shut so hard that the frame trembled, and heard his voice call from the other side.

"Welcome home, Elena."

And I instantly decided I'd rather continue skating on broken bones than spend another day in this apartment.