Fake-Dating A Star

ELEVEN

Somewhere along the line, Lila had drifted into sleep, and when she woke, Nigel was gone. The sheets still held his warmth, his scent, wrapping around her like a phantom embrace. She lay there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, her thoughts churning like the waves outside the porthole.

Everything had shifted so fast, like the ground beneath her feet was tilting, and she had no anchor. Her "perfect" relationship with Matt had shattered into a cruel joke. She despised him now, and yet, the sharp sting of his betrayal lingered, raw and unhealed.

And then there was Nigel—the teen heartthrob from those corny holiday movies she’d rolled her eyes at years ago. Now, she wasn’t just watching him; she was sleeping with him, unraveling beneath his touch.

It was absurd. It was exhilarating. It was terrifying.

In the quiet stillness of the room, the weight of it all pressed down on her chest. What would happen after the cruise? She’d return to her studio, spend hours inking bizarre requests from her clients, and then what? No Matt waiting at home, no predictable routine, no... great s*x.

Great s*x.

A bitter laugh escaped her as the thought settled. If she were honest, Nigel was miles ahead of Matt in bed. He didn’t just take—he gave, and with an intensity that made her feel like the only thing that mattered. He teased, edged, and consumed her until she burned for him. It was like he had memorized every inch of her body and learned how to play it like a virtuoso.

And yet, it was nothing. Or at least, that’s what she told herself. Nigel was an escape—a fleeting distraction. When the cruise ended, so would this... whatever this was. She’d go back to her life, and he’d return to the world of cameras and red carpets. That’s what she believed.

So why did the thought of it ache so much?

The knot in her chest tightened, and she bolted upright, unable to bear the quiet any longer. Being left alone with her thoughts was like inviting a storm to rage unchecked. She needed to move, to escape this room, these sheets that smelled like him.

Throwing on a sweater and jeans, she tied her hair into a loose bun and stepped out into the hallway. She didn’t know where she was going, only that she had to get away from herself, from this suffocating whirlwind of emotions.

Her feet carried her up the stairs and onto the deck, where the icy breeze greeted her like a slap. She stuffed her hands into her pockets, grateful for the warmth of her sweater as she breathed in the salty air. The soft sound of the ocean lapping against the ship was soothing, a contrast to the faint hum of celebration and laughter behind her.

Lila leaned against the railing, her gaze fixed on the endless expanse of water. The horizon stretched into nothingness, a reminder of how small and fleeting everything felt in the grand scheme of things. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to exhale, the tension easing ever so slightly.

“Lila?”

The voice shattered her fragile calm.

She blinked, her head whipping around to find its source. Standing a few feet away was the woman she’d seen with Matt. The woman who had been tangled up in his arms, his lips.

Her stomach twisted, the ache she thought she’d numbed roaring back to life.

The woman smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “We need to talk.”

Lila’s eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of the woman—tall, striking, and exuding a kind of effortless confidence that made Lila’s stomach churn. Her black hair was sleek, falling in soft waves over her shoulders, and her creamy skin seemed to glow under the soft deck lights. Despite the biting cold, Maggie wore a figure-hugging dress that barely grazed her mid-thigh, paired with knee-high boots and a leather jacket that looked more stylish than practical.

It was the kind of ensemble that screamed "I’m better than you," and Maggie pulled it off with ease.

Lila’s fingers tightened in the pockets of her sweater as she straightened her back, forcing herself to meet the woman’s gaze. The spark of insecurity that flickered in her chest was unwelcome but persistent. She thought of her loose bun, the plain sweater she’d thrown on, and the sneakers that had seen better days. She knew she wasn’t trying to impress anyone, but next to someone like Maggie, she felt like a caricature of herself.

“Whatever it is, I’m not interested,” Lila said flatly, turning away from the railing. She wasn’t in the mood for drama, not after the emotional rollercoaster of the past few days.

Maggie stepped forward quickly, blocking her path with a hand on her arm. “Wait. This won’t take long.”

Lila froze, her jaw tightening as she looked down at the hand gripping her sweater. Her instinct was to yank it away and leave without another word, but there was something in Maggie’s tone that gave her pause. It wasn’t anger or hostility—it was something else, something calculated.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” Lila said, keeping her voice calm.

Maggie let out a small laugh, but it wasn’t warm. “I’m not here to fight, Lila. I have an offer for you—one I don’t think you can refuse.”

Lila’s brow furrowed, her curiosity piqued despite herself. An offer? What the hell could this woman possibly have to offer her? She tilted her head, studying Maggie more closely now. Her striking features were unreadable, her red-painted lips curled into a small, knowing smile that made Lila’s stomach churn even more.

“What makes you think I’d want anything from you?” Lila shot back, her voice sharper than she intended.

Maggie stepped back slightly, her hands slipping into the pockets of her jacket as she surveyed Lila with the kind of confidence that only came from knowing you held the upper hand. “Because I know how this ends,” she said simply. “We both do. You go back to being a lonely nobody."

The response only made Lila’s irritation grow. She crossed her arms, the weight of the conversation beginning to chip away at her resolve to leave.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing,” Lila said, her voice low, “but I’m not interested in being part of it.”

Maggie smiled again, this time with a hint of amusement. “Oh, I think you’ll change your mind once you hear me out. But I get it—you’re tired, you’re pissed off, and the last thing you want is to deal with some ‘other woman’ drama.” She shrugged. “I can’t blame you.”

The words hit a nerve, and Lila’s eyes narrowed further. “Then why are you still here?”

Maggie smirked.

“Because I think you’re smarter than you look,” Maggie said, her tone smooth but cutting. “And I think you know that whatever fantasy you’ve built up in your head about this cruise, about Nige Lancasterl... it’s not real.”

The mention of Nigel caught Lila off guard, and she stiffened, her arms dropping to her sides. “Is that what this is about? You're jealous I got a better man?” she asked, her voice tight.

The b***h had some f*****g nerve.....