13. Elodie

ELODIE

I was awake all night, thinking about Hunter. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him, felt him. The way he kissed and touched me last night? It was like I was precious and important to him. He keeps showing up for me, taking care of me and being his amazing self. I’ve never been with someone who’s treated me like that, like I matter. Especially not from any of the guys I was in a real relationship with. It’s starting to feel too real between us, and I’m confused as hell.

After endless hours of ruminating about our every interaction, I’ve come to one glaringly obvious conclusion—I’m falling for Hunter. But fate’s a cruel bitch to give me the one person I’ve always dreamt of but for our entire relationship to be built on a bed of lies. I don’t know what he wants to talk about this morning, but I’m scared he wants more from me. More than I can give, not with so many secrets sitting between us.

My phone pings, drawing me out of my thoughts.

S: How was last night? Did you find the pans?

Me: Yes, thank you for that. I was embarrassing myself in front of Hunter, not able to find anything.

S: Did you have a date?

Me: Kind of? He surprised me.

S: And? I need details!

Me: It was good. Hunter is turning out to be an amazing guy.

S: I’m so happy for you. Aria only had great things to say about him. I think you should live it up to the fullest.

Me: Maybe. How are you feeling?

S: Good, but I want to talk about YOU. Let me live vicariously, would ya?

I laugh and splash some water on my face. I’d love to make something for Hunter for breakfast. Maybe some muffins and eggs? I head into the kitchen, ready to do just that, but he’s already there. Cooking.

“Morning, beautiful,” he says, looking far too sexy in low-slung black shorts. “Hope you like omelets.”

“Yeah.” I clear my throat and force myself to look at his eyes, and not his abs, or that sexy indentation at his hips. “I love omelets.”

“Come here.”

I hesitate, not sure if that’s a good idea. Last night, we crossed a line, yet again, and I don’t know where we stand in the light of day. Should I just act like it never happened? Or maybe I should apologize for getting caught up in the moment and making it weird.

“Are we good?” I ask, slowly walking over to him.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” When I get close, he slides his hands in my hair. “Sleep okay?”

I nod, and then shake my head, and then nod again. He grins and kisses me senseless. Even if there’s no need to kiss him with no one around, it doesn’t stop me from fucking melting into him as he kisses me like I’m his oxygen and a critical part of his survival. My phone buzzes and I ignore it, completely lost in him. He pulls away before I’m ready and kisses me once, twice, three times more. Small pecks, but as addictive as the other kinds of kisses he’s given me.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“Hi.” He chuckles at whatever expression I have on my face. “Would you like some tea for your throat, or coffee? ”

“Tea.” Even though I need the coffee to wake up, I do need to take care of myself. My throat is sore, and I still have to perform tonight. I prepare him a coffee and me a tea before checking my phone.

S: TELL ME EVERYHTING IN 5.

No matter how many times I reread it, I don’t understand what she means. Will she call me in five? I glance at the time on my phone. Her message came in four minutes ago.

The front door unlocks, and Hunter turns to me and whispers, “Are you expecting anyone?”

I shake my head, and he moves so fast, I can’t compute what’s happening. One minute I’m standing by the counter, and the next I’m behind him while he brandishes a knife in one hand and a frying pan in the other. His body vibrates with energy, as if he’s ready to cut down whoever is walking our way.

Kai, Stella’s bodyguard, draws up short when he rounds the corner. “What the hell?” Kai focuses on Hunter. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Hunter says. “No one is allowed in the penthouse except Stella.”

“Elodie?” Stella shuffles inside the kitchen. “I can’t wait for you to tell me—” Her eyes go comically wide as she takes in Hunter. She gulps. “Sorry, wrong house.”

Stella tries to turn back toward the front door, but Kai stops her with a shake of his head. Hunter spins to face me and looks between Stella and me in shock.

Kai steps in front of Stella, ready to block her from whatever is about to go down.

My stomach twists uncomfortably at Kai’s move. Because what about me? Who’s here that’ll protect me from the fallout we’re all barreling toward at an alarming pace? Hunter sets the pan and knife down on the counter with measured movements and takes a large, deliberate step away from me.

In that one step, everything becomes crystal clear. It becomes a rejection more profound than any angry outburst, a silent scream that echoes in the hollowness of my heart.

“What the fuck is going on?” he asks. “And who the fuck is Elodie?”

“Umm…” I say like an idiot. “I’m Elodie?”

“Then who the fuck is she?” Hunter asks, pointing at Stella.

“The real Stella.” Stella sways to the side, paling by the second. “Can we move this convo into the living room?”

Kai immediately picks her up and carries her to the couch. She protests, but Kai won’t hear anything about it. Once she’s deposited on the couch, she runs a hand over her limp ponytail, as if she’s self-conscious about her appearance.

“Are you okay?” I ask, rushing to her side. “Should we call the doctor?”

“I’m fine. Just not used to walking for long.”

“You pushed yourself too hard,” Kai says. “I should’ve carried you.”

Stella rolls her eyes. “Why don’t you go stand in the corner and act like you’re not here.”

Kai gives her a long look, one that clearly states how displeased he is with her, but he still follows her request.

“I don’t understand,” Hunter says, sitting on the couch on the other side of the room, as far away from me as possible. The distance between us hurts like a physical blow. I try to keep my face blank, knowing there’s a chance we’ll end before we can begin because of this lie.

“Elodie’s been helping me out while I’ve been recovering from surgery,” Stella says.

“Have I dated both of you?” He looks ill at the thought of that.

“No,” I say. “It’s only been me from the beginning. The night at the gala was my first night as Stella.”

Hunter stands. “Can I speak to you alone, Elodie?”

Nerves overtake my body as I nod. I lead the way to the room he was staying in, but when he passes Stella, she stops him with an arm on his and whispers something to him. He nods and follows me into the room .

Closing the door behind us, he takes a seat on the bed, and I wring my hands together. Where do I start? How can I make this right? As I have an internal meltdown, Hunter just stares at me in silence. The minutes tick by, and I can’t take it anymore.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “It killed me to lie to you.”

“But you did.” A muscle pulses in his jaw as he shakes his head. “You could’ve told me in the beginning, when we first made the agreement. I would’ve understood.”

“I get that, and you’re right. But it also wasn’t my place to decide who to trust and who to tell. This isn’t my life, but Stella’s, and I had to respect that and her privacy.”

A bitter laugh escapes his lips, the sound echoing in the tense silence. “Who were you, then? All our conversations… Who was I having them with? Some made-up version of Stella, or you?”

“Me. I was me the entire time, much to Rachel’s dismay. The only time I pretend to be Stella is when I’m on stage.”

“I want to believe you, but you’re so good at lying. I don’t even know what to trust anymore.”

His words scrape down my throat like a mouthful of thorns. Of course, he doesn’t believe me. I’d have a difficult time believing him if our roles were reversed.

I remain silent and he says, “I just need the truth.”

“The truth?” I scoff. “The truth is I’m a dirt-poor nobody with a sick mom who’s pretending to be Stella for money.” And then I tell him everything. Starting with the TikTok to now. When I finish, he’s silent for a long time.

“Say something,” I beg. “I’d understand if you want out of our dating agreement or?—”

“I need some air,” he finally chokes out, his voice raw and tight with barely contained anger. It isn’t a question, but a desperate plea for escape. He doesn’t wait for a response, his long strides eating up the distance to the door. I watch, helpless, as his hand grips the knob so hard his knuckles turn white.

The door shuts quietly behind him and the weight of his unspoken words, the betrayal in his gaze, all crashes down on me like a tidal wave. Tears prick my eyes, blurring the already distorted image of the empty space where he once was.

I sink to the bed and stare at the door, as if willing him to walk back through it. I should go check on Stella, but I can’t bring myself to move. I’m stuck, still frozen in the conversation.