Page 89 of Forget Me

24

MIMI

I was alonein my apartment that night finishing up the final budget for the gala when my laptop screen blinked to black. My hand automatically went to wiggle the cord, but it wasn’t there. And in a flash of frustration, I realized where I’d left it.

Mateo’s place.

I’d been working on my spreadsheets for the foundation on his couch late Saturday afternoon after my nap when he’d kissed the back of my neck. An innocent kiss at first, but then he’d trailed down my shoulder, and work was done for the day.

He only checked that I’d saved my work before he closed the screen, unplugged the cord that stretched across the couch, and then laid me down and given me the best oral of my life.

Second-best oral? Also Mateo. And third. He stood in triplicate on the Olympic podium of cunnilingus.

I had to memorialize him like that. Like Han Solo in carbonite, flash-frozen with his head between my thighs.

We couldn’t keep going. Not when Larissa thought we were a couple and she could conscript Mateo into free labor whenever she wanted. When she actually wanted him instead of me.

I’d been ridiculous this morning when I’d thought Mateo was going behind my back to steal the assistant director position. He wasn’t like Byron. He didn’t want the position, and no matter how much Larissa liked him, he wasn’t qualified. Jackson would never approve it.

But would I still be in the running for the job without Mateo’s help?

Probably not. And that made my skin tingle in a way very unlike the way Mateo’s oral did.

In a way that reminded me how I’d felt when the big bosses told me they’d given the promotion to Byron.

I stared at my reflection in my laptop’s dead screen. I wanted the foundation job more than anything. But I wasn’t acting like it. I’d let my performance lapse. Now, at least in Larissa’s view, the best part of me was that I came as a package deal with Mateo. In a way, my mom was right about the benefits of having a helper.

But I didn’t want that. I wanted to shine on my own. Not with Mateo’s reflected light.

And there was only one way to do that, to prove that I deserved the job on my own merits.

I had to end it. The real relationship and the fake one.

A weight sank into my chest. He’d be hurt. Hell, I would, too. Those fledgling feelings of mine already cried out at the thought of what I was about to do.

Maybe we could still be friends. Though, after what we’d done together, how would that work?

In my reflection on the dark screen, the stubborn twist to my lips told me it wouldn’t. Every time I saw him, I’d remember how kind, how gentle he’d been. How beautiful he’d made me feel.

I thumbed my phone awake and pulled up the photo. The one he’d taken of me in the pink-sequin dress. One of his enormous hands held my phone to capture us in the mirror, and the other splayed reverently across my ribs.

I hovered my thumb over the delete icon. I should really get rid of it. Toss it out along with these irritating feelings.

Instead, I swiped away the photo app. Someday I’d be strong enough to use it as a reminder of how I’d let my emotions lead me astray.

Someday in the far distant future. Like, when I was old and gray and driving a flying car.

For now, Mateo and I would go back to being acquaintances, stuck in Ben and Cooper’s social circle, always a little too careful around each other.

I slammed my laptop shut so I didn’t have to look at my lips curling down at that idea.

I picked up my phone. I could call Ben and ask him to bring me my charger. But that was the coward’s way, and I was no coward. I’d suck it up, get back my cord, and break things off.

Levering off the couch, I changed my lounge pants for a pair of jeans and reluctantly strapped back into my bra. I wiggled into a black turtleneck. No more distracting neck-kisses.

The pink sequins winked at me from my closet. I had to pay Mateo back for the dress, too. He’d refused to take my money over the weekend, but since we wouldn’t be dating anymore, I couldn’t let that stand. I’d use a cash app to pay him. Then he couldn’t refuse.

I tapped under my eyes with my cold fingertips to stop their prickling. It wouldn’t do to show up with red eyes and a runny nose. He’d comfort me, and there would go my resolve. Sniffing, I focused on what I had to do. Get my charging cord from Mateo. Pay him back for the dress. Break up with him. If I looked at it as three items on a checklist, it wasn’t so bad.

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