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              “Colt.”

              “Colt?”

              “Are you really approaching me to talk shit about my name, Princess?” His voice is slightly softer than when he spoke to Gregory, but not much.

              “You’re right. I just…” Have no idea what to say. But then I think of how Gregory looked with Maxine. The heated anger that passed between him and Colt. The way I felt when I walked in on Gregory with her.

              “So...that guy in there?” I say. “The one who was sort of a jerk to you?”

              “Frat boy, dickhead? What about him? Friend of yours?” He smirks.

              My recklessness fades, leaving the panic that I hate. It pisses me off. I’m not supposed to lose the strength. The new Cheyenne is all strength.

              “You know what? Never mind.” Turning, I take a few steps away from him.

              “Suit yourself,” he says behind me. I don’t know why, but his response surprises me. Isn’t he the least bit curious what I was going to say?

              “Do you have a girlfriend?” I blurt. This stops him.

              Colt turns and looks at me, one of his eyebrows cocked. “Are you hitting on me, Princess? No thanks. I’m not the kind of guy you can piss off your parents with by slumming.”

              And just that simple, he starts to walk away. I’m still trying to figure out what just happened. This guy didn’t even give me a chance to explain. That’s not the part that pisses me off though. I run to catch up. “You don’t know me, so don’t pretend you do. I don’t have parents to piss off. And, I wasn’t hitting on you.”

              I expect him to ask about the parent comment. I’m a little surprised I even said it, but he doesn’t. Amusement bounces off his words when he says, “You weren’t hitting on me, but you followed me out of the coffee shop and now want to know if I have a girl? I don’t know whether to be offended or flattered.”

              His words and our fast pace make me stumble. He reaches out his hand and catches me. It’s warm and calloused and I jerk my arm away. “You don’t have to be an asshole about it. Not that I was flirting with you, but still.”

              “Listen, if there’s a point, you need to get to it. I have somewhere I need to be.”

              It takes a minute for me to reply. I consider walking away, but I can’t get Maxine and Gregory out of my head. The way he threw me away. I swore I’d never be thrown away again.

              People always fall at Gregory’s feet. I loved that about him. This guy? He didn’t. That’s what I need.

              My head high, I tell him, “You never answered the question.”

              He groans as though he’s about done with me, but then he answers. “No, Princess. I don’t have a girl. I’m not looking for one either.”

              The princess thing is about to piss me off, but I let it go. “Good. I’m not either.” He grins and I realize what I’ve said. “I’m not looking for a boyfriend! You know what I mean.” Do lesbian jokes ever get old to men?

              “Tick tock.”

              “I have a question for you and its very private…Colt. It wouldn’t be good for this to get out.”

              Which is putting it mildly. Talk about ruining my reputation—my plan. Having it get out that I’m trying to score a fake man would do that more than anything.

              He crosses his arms and I try not to study his tattoos. “I’m all ears.”

              Or all attitude.

              “That guy you just got in an argument with?”

              His jaw tightens and he nods. Someone walks around us on the sidewalk and I wait until they’re gone until I finish. He’s going to want all the answers. I know it. A guy like him won’t be willing to do this regardless. I’m nauseous at the thought.

              “He’s my ex-boyfriend. We’ve been together forever and I just found out he cheated on me. I walked in on it, actually, and I kind of made him think I had another boyfriend to make him jealous. So now I need that. A boyfriend I mean.”

Oh. My. God. My stomach drops out. I said it. I really put it out there.

              Colt’s eyes get huge, and he stares at me for what feels like forever. He opens his mouth and I’m waiting to hear what he’ll say, but it’s not words that come out. He laughs. Hard. Much harder than he did in the coffee house.

              My face is hot. I’m not sure if it’s anger or embarrassment or both.

              “Very funny, Princess.” When he tries to walk away, I grab his arm. His corded muscles tense beneath my hand.

              “I’m serious! Do you think I would make something like that up?”

              He stops and studies me. I almost want to turn away. No one really looks at me like they’re trying to figure me out. They all know who I am now, but this guy, it’s like he’s looking for something deeper. Something I don’t want to be there.

“You really are serious, aren’t you? Didn’t I just tell you I’m not looking for a girl? I have much more serious shit on my plate than playing this game with you.”

              “I don’t really want to be your girlfriend! It’s a charade. Hello? I would figure that much would be obvious.” Is he dense, or what?

              Colt moves and his arm pulls out of my grasp. “And why would I do this? I don’t even know you and I’m definitely not that hard up.”

              Ugh. Perv. “It’s not like I really want you either and I could find someone I like, if I wanted. The point is, I don’t.”

              I’m never giving someone that kind of power over me again. The more I think about it, the more appealing a fake boyfriend is at the moment.

              “Forget it,” Colt says. “Good luck, Princess.”

              He’s walking away. My one chance to save face is walking away, and I can feel myself clinging, needing something, anything.

              “I’ll pay you!” I say to his back.

              He freezes. Turns. By the way his face hardens and his jaw ticks, I can tell my offer didn’t go over very well.

              “Wrong answer. I don’t need your money.”

              And with that, he walks away.

~CHAPTER FOUR~

Colt

              I don’t do pity. I don’t know or honestly give a shit if that chick is seriously about what she just asked me, but I can tell you, offering charity isn’t going to fly with me. Even though honestly, the money would be nice. It would help.

              Regardless, it’s not like I would play some stupid game with her anyway. I have too much shit going on to add a spoiled princess to the stack.

              Even if she is hot as hell.

              I’ve always been into girls with dark hair. Her skin is a smooth, even shade of brown with legs that are short, but firm. I can definitely picture them wrapped around my waist.

              Luckily for me, she spoke and ruined it.

              Pity isn’t the only thing I don’t do. Princesses are high on my list too.

              Though if she was on the real, it would feel good to stick it to Pretty Boy.

              Again.

              I hate assholes like him who think they own the fucking world and can get away with whatever they want. He’s a bully and I hate people who throw their weight around like that. So I showed him how it felt to be picked on.

              I walk across the street tossing a look over my shoulder. Princess is walking away, her hips swaying back and forth as she goes. She knows how hot she is.