Writing the Rules: A Fake Dating Standalone Mariah Dietz (best novels to read .txt) 📖

the spotlight. Imagine how she’s going to feel when she’s on the front page of a tabloid with a lie splattered across her face. And you’re going to be traveling around the country, playing every weekend, and she’s going to be here, still going to school for another two years.”

I still have six months, and if everything goes as planned, I’ll be staying here in Seattle, but once again, I don’t voice this to him. “Why is this any of your business? You have absolutely no reason to be over here trying to preach to me when your girlfriend is somewhere, waiting for your ass to find its way off of my back and back into your own damn lane. Mine and Poppy’s relationship is none of your concern.”

“Or maybe you need to start worrying, considering I was who gave her a ride when you weren’t here to help her out.”

Panic slips past my defenses, and I stare at him, looking for signs that he’s lying. “What happened?”

“Shouldn’t you already know since you’re her boyfriend and all?”

Frustration and aggression course through me simultaneously, exacerbated by my concern for Poppy. “She’s over you. You need to back off. She’s made her decision, and it’s not you.”

“Decision?” Candace asks, approaching us with a raised brow. “It’s all fake. What’s the decision?”

“There’s nothing fake about it,” I argue. “I told you that.”

“No, you told me you guys set up a fake relationship to benefit you both,” Candace says.

“That’s not what I said.”

Mike stands there like he’s listening to someone revealing a treasure map, listening to each damming word and preparing to steal the fortune.

“You had rules, Pax. Rules about how often you saw each other and communicated, and about not telling people—”

“That’s not what they were for,” I interrupt her.

“Then what was it? Just call a spade a spade. My post about Paulson pissed you off, and you were trying to get back at me.”

“It wasn’t about you,” I tell her. “God. For the first time in three years, this had nothing to do with you. Poppy and me and me and Poppy together have absolutely nothing to do with you,” I seethe, shaking my head and feeling the exhaustion of the past three years hit me in one giant reality check. “What did you say to her?”

“Nothing that she and everyone else doesn’t already know.”

Anger tickles my senses, and deepens my voice. “What does that mean?”

“We do this, Paxton. We break up, and then we make up. I’ve been with you for three years. There’s no way you’re going to end things with me now, not when you’re this close to being drafted.” She holds up her thumb and forefinger, exposing a small gap.

I shake my head. “Are you hearing yourself?” I ask. “You make it sound like all you’re caring about is the money.”

She shakes her head. “Things will be so much easier once you’re drafted. You won’t have all of the pressure and stress.”

“How would that change things between us?” I ask. “Don’t you realize how toxic we were for each other? All we did was fight. I tried to be a good boyfriend and care about you in the ways you deserved, but you never seemed to care about the effort I was making, and that made me just stop trying, and that wasn’t fair to you. And it wasn’t fair to me, either. We both hurt each other. We both made mistakes.”

“So I got to date you while you were a no-one who cooked meals on dates and brought cheap ass flowers, and she gets you a second before you make millions? Do you really think she’s not there for the money?”

“Is that all you care about?” I know the answer as soon as I ask the question. What’s shocking, though, is that I hadn’t before right now.

“Of course, it’s not all I care about, but don’t you think I deserve it for being there through everything? You drank too much, made out with random girls, blew me off.”

It doesn’t make it better to argue we were broken up during those occasions because we were broken up nearly as often as we weren’t. “You’re right. I was a shitty boyfriend. I take responsibility for that, and I wish I could go back and do it over, be a better man in general. But in all honesty, if I could reverse time, I’d never have dated you. I’d have been with Poppy this whole damn time if I had just paid attention and stopped this crazy carousel ride we were on. We lied to each other and to ourselves by saying we were happy and made each other happy—because that never happened.”

“I gave you three years of my life,” she argues, eyes slit with anger.

Her words cause reverberations in my thoughts, ones that carry frustration, regret, and bitterness. “I didn’t want you to hate me, and I didn’t want to hate you, but this is over between us. It’s been over for months. We’re never going to get back together. This shit is done.”

I turn, realizing that dickface Mike is gone.

Shit.

I head down to the beach, searching for Lincoln, knowing that wherever he is, Rae will be. It only takes me a few minutes to find them because I can hear Arlo easily over the crowds and see Lincoln beside him.

“Were you just hanging out with Candace?” Rae asks. Her gaze is hard and accusing—a reflection of Poppy’s from this afternoon.

“It’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Tell me you’re not getting back together with her.”

I shake my head. “No. I’m looking for Poppy.”

“And you thought she was going to be with Candace?”

“She approached me,” I tell her again. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

Rae shakes her head. “She’s upset about something, and I don’t know what is going on, but I’m guessing it has to do with you since you don’t know where she’s at.”

Maintaining my sister’s stare is like gripping onto a hot coal—the longer I hold it, the worse I’m