Fake-Dating A Star

THREE

Lila didn’t waste any time. As soon as she saw Matt pulling away from the other woman, she marched toward him, her heels clicking against the deck’s wooden floor. Her stomach churned with anger, the betrayal slicing through her holiday calm like a blade. She didn’t care who saw or what people thought—she only wanted answers.

“Matt!” she called, her voice sharper than she’d ever heard it.

He turned, his eyes widening as he saw her standing there, fury etched into her face. For a moment, he just stared, his face betraying a flash of guilt before it twisted into defensiveness.

“Lila… hey,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh really? Because it looked like you were just making out with her,” she shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. She could feel her cheeks heating, both from anger and the sting of embarrassment. “How could you?”

The lady he had been making out with was taller and way hotter than she was. She had long glossy hair and long creamy legs which was slightly exposed from the long slit of her black dress.

Matt sighed, exasperated, as though he were the one being inconvenienced by the whole thing. “Listen, it wasn’t my fault, okay?” He glanced around, trying to keep his voice down as other passengers slowed their steps to watch. “You’re acting like you haven’t been pushing me away for months now.”

“Pushing you away?” she repeated, disbelief cutting through her anger. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, Lila! You’re so… so cynical about everything,” he said, his voice rising. “The holidays, romance, our relationship. I’ve tried, over and over, to make things work with you. I’ve planned trips, I’ve done things I knew you’d like, but you just never seem to care!”

Her arms dropped to her sides as his words hit her, each one stinging more than the last. “I never asked you to change, Matt. I thought we were fine the way we were.”

“But we’re not, Lila!” he burst out. “We’re… boring. It’s like I can’t make you happy no matter what I do, and it’s exhausting. Do you know how that feels?”

Lila’s throat tightened as she stared at him, every ounce of anger fading into hurt. She’d thought they were comfortable, steady. She’d thought their easygoing relationship was what made them work. But standing here now, looking into Matt’s frustrated eyes, she realized he’d been holding back so much, building up a wall of resentment she’d never even noticed.

“Fine,” she whispered, her voice thick. “You know, all you had to do was talk to me, all you had to do was tell me we weren't what you wanted."

He looked away, the silence between them growing heavy. And just like that, whatever they had slipped through her fingers, leaving her feeling hollow.

Without another word, she turned and stormed off, her head spinning as she tried to process what had just happened. The holiday lights blurred past her as she stalked through the ship’s corridors, not caring where she was going. She just needed to get away from him, from the image of him with the other woman, from the accusations still ringing in her ears.

Without realizing it, she wandered into a different part of the ship, away from the main decks and into a more secluded lounge area. She didn’t care where she was going—she just wanted to be far away from Matt and the hollow disappointment that had taken his place in her heart.

She had never really cared about her looks and all, but the fact that Matt had gone for a hotter woman ached her—made her so much more aware of the fact that she could look better.

She wasn't tall, and maybe she was a bit too thick; she could lose some weight.

As she entered the lounge, the lights were low and soft, the plush seats inviting yet empty. The faint hum of jazz music filled the air, the kind of soundtrack meant for quiet conversations and half-hidden glances. Her footsteps slowed cautiously.

"Took you long enough." She turned, surprised to find a man watching her from a corner booth, his eyes lazy. He was devastatingly handsome, with dark hair that fell effortlessly across his forehead, piercing eyes that seemed to see right through her, and an easy, confident posture that spoke of experience and charm. He looked familiar, but she wasn't thinking straight at the moment. “Did you get lost on your way here?”

“Uh… yeah,” she managed, feeling her cheeks flush. She tried to pull herself together, hiding her disheveled emotions beneath a cool exterior. “I think I got turned around.”

He smiled, a slow, knowing smile that made her pulse quicken. “Well, you’re here now. Do join me for a drink first?."

Normally, she’d decline. She’d walk away, embarrassed and trying not to make a fool of herself. But the anger still simmered within her, and this man's piercing gaze felt like a lifeline, something to distract her from the turmoil swirling inside her.

“What’s one drink?” she said, sliding into the booth across from him.

He nodded approvingly, signaling for the bartender. “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” she replied, accepting the glass he handed her.

She studied his face once more, he definitely looked familiar. Narrowing her eyes, she asked "Do I know you?"

His brow arched, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"You're either really weird, or you've got a great sense of humor." He replied. "Not what I was expecting."

She took a long sip of her drink before setting it down and shaking her head. Whatever. "What were you expecting?"

He shrugged. "Not this much chit chat. I'd think we'd be on our way to my suite by now, and you'd be out of that pretty dress." He replied easily.

She caught onto his offer quickly. Her heart pounded, a wild, rebellious thrill coursing through her. This was reckless, and yet… she wanted it. She wanted to forget Matt, to lose herself in something—or someone—who hadn't just hurt her so much.

Without a word, she took his hand, allowing him to lead her to his suite.

He wasted no time in backing her against a wall and crashing his lips onto hers. His tongue mingled with hers till she tasted the drink he had been having earlier, she loved it.

His hands roamed, he kneaded and massaged every curve an edge, and he hummed approvingly on feeling the thickness of her thighs. The look in his eyes told her he wanted to be between those very thighs immensely.

"You have a therapeutic body." He laughed richly. "Come here."

It happened quickly; one moment she was backed against a wall, and the next she was being guided to lie on an all too welcoming bed.

The night passed in a blur of tangled sheets, whispered laughter, and moments that felt almost surreal. He had f****d her slowly—had taken his time like they had forever, it was almost as though she wasn't some stranger he'd met on a cruise but a lover of his or something.