I'll Be That Girl: A Gender Swap Romance by Sophie Pert

Author:Sophie Pert
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2022-11-02T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIVE

Okay so I'll own up to closing the door hard enough that you could call it slamming it, but aside from that I have to say I think I did more than alright.

I played the game. I made him look good. I was the perfect girlfriend on the ride over, while we were there, and on the ride back. No one even noticed that he abandoned me for his ex the first moment he could.

They were flirting. They were fucking flirting the whole time. She was doing that stupid thing she does where she laughs and slaps him playfully on his chest and pushes her hair back behind her ear and he was fucking eating it up and he can't deny it.

But I guess he didn't think I noticed, because it isn't until I shut the door a little too hard that he jumps and looks at me and apparently finally notices me for the first time.

"Is everything okay?"

I could ask that question fifty different ways with the tone mocking him in some unique manner each time and still not come close to how stupid he sounds when he asks it. Looking at me like I've made some kind of a mistake or like I don't know what I'm doing.

"Yeah," I reply back, "Fucking peachy. We've got a few hours before we have to be down at dinner so I'm looking forward to whiling away the time with a drink."

I storm over to the minibar and swing the door open, noticing that it hadn't been stocked since last night when we'd shared a bit of liquid courage together.

"Fuck this place," I sneer, slamming it shut, "Stupid fucking rich hotel couldn't have a full-sized fucking fridge with some decent drinks in it. This whole weekend is bullshit."

And yes, for the record, I know when I flump myself down into a chair and close my arms over myself it looks like I'm pouting and yet that might be because I am pouting but I don't give a damn how it looks because this room is my sanctuary for the evening and the only place I can be where I don't have to put on a front and pretend that I'm head over heels in love with Caleb Rogers.

Who, by the way, is now standing shocked in the middle of the room looking absolutely dumber than I've ever seen him before.

"Something is wrong," he says, and I think it might just be him confirming it to himself, the single hamster on a wheel in his brain working overtime to make connections.

Maybe, if he'd own up to it, I'd let him off the hook. If he made the apology without me having to point it out I might have been able to accept it without much more drama and then we could go down to the bar, get a drink, and start working up a plan of attack for the rest of this.

But he had to go and play a game at pretending

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