The Sweetest Revenge

Chapter 6 - Hangover Latte's

My head feels like it's been stuffed with cotton. I blink, trying to force my eyes to focus on the sunlight streaming through the curtains. What the hell happened last night?

Groaning, I roll over, my brain foggy from the vodka haze. The room spins slightly, and I regret every drink I had. I vowed never to drink again, but somehow, I always forget that promise after a few months. Vodka is my kryptonite. The faint memory of Liam's offer filters through the haze.

Fake boyfriend? Did that really happen?

I fumble for my phone, fingers trembling slightly as I unlock it. A text from Sophie reads, "How's the head this morning? 😂". I grimace, not ready to deal with that level of energy just yet. Instead, I dial her number and flop back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling, waiting for her to pick up.

"Emmaaaa!" Sophie's voice is annoyingly cheerful, especially for... what, 9 AM? How does she manage to sound so awake? And so loud?

"Soph, please don't yell," I mumble, wincing at the pounding in my skull. Even her voice makes my head hurt more.

She laughs, completely ignoring my pain. "Hungover, huh? How are you holding up? You got carried out like a princess last night! I saw you leaving with Jason's hot coworker."

A princess. Yeah, right. "I'm... alive, barely. And I'm never drinking again," I mutter, rubbing my temples, trying to massage away the hangover. "What happened to you last night?"

Sophie lets out a mischievous giggle. "Well, funny you should ask. After you left with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome, I stayed a bit longer with that guy I hooked up with." I can hear the smile in her voice. "God, Em, he was... amazing."

Despite the room still spinning, I prop myself up on my elbows, intrigued. "Oh? Do tell."

Sophie sighs dramatically, launching into the story as if she's about to describe the plot of a rom-com. "So, after we left the club, I told him I was hungry—because, duh, I needed snacks. We went and got burgers and fries at this 24-hour diner. And get this, he wasn't just after one thing. We actually sat down, ate, and talked."

"Wait," I interject, blinking in disbelief, "so he didn't just bring you home and, you know...?"

"Nope! We ate. Then we went back to his place, and we watched a movie. Can you believe it? A movie! Like, he didn't jump me the second we walked in the door."

I can almost see her shaking her head in disbelief. Sophie's never had a guy treat her like more than just a one-night stand, and she's never expected much more either. "Wow," I murmur. "That's... different."

"Right? It felt... weird, though. Because then we, you know, did the deed, but it wasn't rushed. It was slow, like he actually cared." Sophie's voice softens for a moment, and I can tell she's thinking about it more seriously. "Em, I almost wanted to break my rules for him."

That catches my attention. Sophie's rules are practically law when it comes to guys. "Wait, what? You never break your rules."

She sighs. "I know, I know. But he was... different. He wasn't just in it for my body, at least it didn't feel like that. He asked about me, and when I told him I was hungry, he didn't roll his eyes or anything. He actually listened."

I fall silent, thinking about Sophie's rules. After all the jerks she encountered in college, she set up a series of guidelines to protect herself.

Rule 1: Always be the one to leave first.

Rule 2: No staying over at their place for the whole night.

Rule 3: If he asks about your personal life, run.

Rule 4: Don't let them get attached.

Rule 5: Don't fall in love. Ever.

"So," I start slowly, "are you saying you're considering breaking all your rules for this guy?"

Sophie is quiet for a moment. I can almost picture her biting her lip. "No, I won't, but it was just... different. But enough about me. What about you?"

I laugh, trying to deflect the question for now. "I'll tell you about me later. Meet me at Java Jive in two hours?"

"Sure thing, see ya later, party girl."

"Bye, Casanova," I reply with a smile, hanging up.

I know she's about to ask a lot of questions, and I know I'll have to answer them. I groan, flopping back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Did I really agree to a fake boyfriend last night?

Shaking my head, I decide to shake off the remnants of my hangover and get ready for the day. I drag myself out of bed, swaying a little as the headache pulses behind my eyes, and head for the shower. The hot water feels like salvation as it washes away the remnants of last night—both the vodka and the regret.

After drying off, I pull on a pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt, keeping things simple. My hands fumble with my hair for a moment before I decide to twist it into a loose, messy bun. I take a quick glance in the mirror, grimacing at the dark circles under my eyes, then swipe on some mascara to look less like the walking dead.

Satisfied enough, I grab my bag and head out the door, bracing myself for whatever Sophie is about to pry out of me.

*****

The smell of coffee hits me instantly, wrapping me in its warm, familiar embrace. It's one of my favorite things about this place—that immediate sense of comfort and routine. Every time I walk in, it feels like a hug in a cup, always greeting me with that rich, earthy aroma, promising a moment of peace.

I scan the room and spot Sophie sitting at our usual booth by the window. Jason isn't working today—probably because he pulled a shift last night. I make my way over and slide into the seat across from her, offering a quick smile as I greet her.

Without missing a beat, Sophie gets right down to business. "Why did you sound so serious on the phone? You don't usually wake up this early after a night like that."

I swallow, unsure how to phrase it. "Well... I might've found a fake boyfriend."

Sophie stares at me in silence for a second before bursting into laughter. "What? You're kidding me. I thought you decided not to go through with that plan!"

"I never said that," I correct her. "You just assumed."

Her laughter fades, replaced by curiosity. "Okay, okay. So, who is it?"

I open my mouth to answer, but before I can, the door by the kitchen swings open, and in walks Liam. I freeze, my words catching in my throat as I watch him stride across the café with a casual confidence, a coffee in one hand.

"Hey, Emma," he greets, setting a cup down in front of me. "One cinnamon latte."

"Um, thanks, but I didn't order anything yet," I say, blinking up at him.

"It's on the house. Thought we could talk."

Sophie and I exchange glances, her eyes widening in silent communication. Is this him? her expression screams.

I give a subtle nod, feeling my cheeks heat up. Sophie's eyebrows shoot up in approval. Oh yes. Say yes, her look seems to say.

Liam extends his hand to Sophie. "You must be Sophie, I presume. Liam."

She shakes his hand. "Yes, nice to officially meet you, Liam." She smiles and glances at me.

"I hope Daniel didn’t give you a hard time last night," he says with a grin.

She smirks back. "Oh, he definitely did."

I laugh at that.

Liam turns back to me, flashing that easy smile. "Mind if I sit?"

Before I can answer, Sophie jumps in, "Oh, please do. I actually have a phone call to make." She slides out of the booth, giving me a wink. "Be right back!"

I give her a wide-eyed what are you doing look, but she just smirks and leaves me alone with Liam. Great.

Liam sits across from me, folding his hands on the table. "So, how's the hangover?"

"Survivable," I mutter, taking a hesitant sip of the coffee. It's delicious, and despite myself, I appreciate the gesture.

"So... you wanted to talk?" I ask, trying to hide my nervousness.

"Yeah, about last night."

I look at him, confused. "Nothing happened though, at least not that I remember."

He smiles, a small, knowing grin. "No, nothing happened. But I wanted to talk about my offer."

Oh, so that actually did happen. I was hoping I'd imagined it.

I stare at him, "But why? Why are you doing this?" I ask, my voice softer than I intended. Why would he want to get involved in this mess? I wonder, my mind swirling with doubt.

He raises an eyebrow. "Doing what?"

"This," I gesture between us, "wanting to be my fake boyfriend. you barely know me."

Liam leans back, crossing his arms, his eyes steady on mine. "Let's just say I've had my fair share of cheating partners. I'm tired of seeing people like them always getting what they want. And people like us... we end up hurt."

I blink, caught off guard by his honesty. "People like us?"

He gives me a sad smile. "People with hearts bigger than their smiles."

That hits deeper than I expected, and for a moment, I just sit there, trying to process his words. Is that really why he's doing this? Does he see himself in me? I've been so focused on my own pain and my need to get back at Jake that I never considered someone else might understand.

But still... why would Liam care? I can't help but feel skeptical. After all, my endgame is clear: I want to show Jake what he missed out on. To make him regret everything. So why would someone like Liam, who barely knows me, jump in to help with something so petty? I'm still so confused...

Liam seems to read the doubt on my face because he leans forward slightly. "I'm not asking for an answer right away," he says, his voice gentle. "I just want you to think about it. It might help, you know?"

I nod, biting my lip. "Maybe." But would it really help? Or would it just make things more complicated?

Liam checks his watch and stands up, stretching his arms. "Look, I've got to get back to work. But how about I pick you up later? We could go for a walk in the park and talk more about it."

I open my mouth to decline, but he grins before I can say anything. "Great, I'll pick you up at one."

And with that, he's gone, leaving me sitting there, wondering if I've just been swept into something I'm not ready for. There's no way someone like him actually wants to help me, right? He barely knows me. Maybe he's just bored or looking for some distraction of his own.

There's no way this is real. Right?

Right?