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Dear Reader, if you’ve found this diary, then I must be dead.
Shit. If you’re reading this…please don’t end up like me. Be smarter than I was and don’t trust anyone.
What the hell was going on? He was like something straight out of a sex dream—tall, broad, gorgeous smile…and I was about to get my hands all over him. I needed to get my shit under control, or this would get me fired.
“Ashley, this is Royce D’Arenberg and Heathcliff Briggs—oh, wait, you already met Heath, didn’t you? Intimately.”
“I wish I could say it was lovely to meet you all, but frankly I’ve had more pleasant experiences stepping in dog shit.”
“I’m irritated, Jade, that’s how I am. Get the fuck out of here and stop picking fights with my little Spark.”
“Callum Buckingham the Fourth thinks I have a bad attitude? Whatever will I do? Gosh, this will make me lose sleep, for sure.”
“I wouldn’t make it quiet or easy.” Heath chuckled, a delicious sound that I really wanted to hate. “I’d expect nothing less. You look like you’d be a screamer.”
“You’re right, we’re nowhere near as well acquainted as you two are,” Royce agreed, smirking. “I’m not against it, though. What’s the going rate? Six grand?”
“I’m so flattered, Royce, but I’d rather jump into a pond of starving piranhas while wearing a suit entirely made of bananas. Oh look, there’s my friend.”
“Are we inducting Ashley?” Carter asked and I needed to clap a hand over my mouth to keep from gasping. “She’s an Essex now, after all, and legacy dictates—” “She is not an Essex,” Nate spat with palpable venom. “Neither is Carina, no matter what the marriage certificate says. She doesn’t get a free pass into the DBs just because my dad is cuntstruck.”
“Yep. Congratulations, Heathcliff, you just became my boyfriend.” Because not only would it infuriate Nate, it would possibly offer me some insight into the Devil’s Backbone Society. Heath’s eyes widened. “Um…” “In name only, of course, I’m not actually interested in dating you.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. His lips curled into a grin. “Fake dating? I love that trope. Count me in.”
“You scared the fucking life out of me, Spark. Never, ever do that again.”
“I wanted to tell you that our fake relationship wasn’t working out,” he finally said, his voice a low murmur and his gaze lowered. “That I didn’t think we should fake date anymore.”
“Because I can’t fake date someone that I want to actually date,” he cut me off. “And I legitimately can’t get you out of my head, Ashley. Pretending I’m kissing you for appearances isn’t enough and to be frank, it’s fucking with my head.” My lips parted to respond,
