I Hate You Too

Ch. 6: Dallas

Looking around with wide eyes, I can't help noticing how massive Amara's house is.

The large rooms feel empty without the crowd of a party. Though beautiful, the emptiness is almost . . . lonely.

"Check Instagram," Amara says.

I reach into my pocket for my phone as Amara sets down her car keys. Wordlessly, she sashays into the kitchen.

I follow her lead, my stare glued to my phone.

Sunset Scandals has updated again. It's an image of me climbing out of Amara's car in the driveway.

"Wow." My voice echoes in the stillness. "They're like paparazzi."

"You're getting exactly what you wanted." Amara shoots a pointed glance at me over her shoulder. Raising a brow, she asks, "Right?"

Swallowing hard, I realize she's right. Honestly, the news spreading this quickly kind of scares me. But I can't admit that out loud.

Forcing a smile, I nod. "Right."

Amara eyes me in silence. Shifting, she turns her back to me. "My room is upstairs."

Butterflies flap around in my stomach, and not the good kind. I'm nervous. My plan is working, but things are moving faster than I expected.

I'm not exactly prepared to spend so much time with Amara. Being spotted together was the easy part of the plan. Having to actually be around Amara—and pretend I like it—is much harder.

Amara leads me up the spiral staircase to her room. As we step through the doorway, I briefly look around. Her decor is designer, the walls decorated with pictures of her friends.

It dawns on me that I'm standing in Amara Singh's room. Suddenly, I feel dizzy.

Amara takes a seat on her bed. The duvet is fluffy and white.

Looking at me, she furrows her eyebrows. "Are you going to sit down or keep looking around like you just landed on another planet?"

Reaching for the chair by the vanity, I take a seat.

Amara wastes no time getting to the point.

"So, if we're going to do this then we need to get our story straight." Amara eyes me coolly. "How'd we fall in love?"

A dry laugh escapes me. "Would it kill you to be a little nicer, sweetheart?"

Wrinkling her nose, Amara offers a glare.

"I am being nice," she says. "Besides, there's no point in pretending. We both know this is fake. What's important is getting our facts straight, or else this won't work."

"We're not going to be able to come up with anything believable if we can't get along," I argue.

Amara's expression is full of rage. "Don't forget I'm doing you a favor, Cooper."

"Dallas," I correct flatly. "My name is Dallas."

Amara rolls her eyes. "Whatever, Cooper. Can we just get this over with?"

I shake my head, rising from my seat. "You know what? I actually don't need this. Forget it. Let's just tell people we had a short-lived fling that fizzled out. I'm—"

"Wait!" Amara cries as I turn to the door. The desperation in her voice stops me. I glance over and meet her stare.

"You're right." Amara sighs. "Arguing will get us nowhere. We're in this together. We just need to . . . figure out how to work together."