Chapter 2 Dangerous ProvocationsDangerous Provocations
## Chapter 2: Dangerous Provocations
The morning after the wedding, I woke to three missed calls and seven texts from men whose names I barely remembered. None were from Aidan. Perfect. Let him think I'd been busy.
I uploaded a carefully selected photo to Instagram: me at breakfast with a masculine hand visible at the edge of the frame. In reality, it belonged to the elderly waiter who'd served my avocado toast, but strategic cropping worked wonders. I captioned it with a heart emoji and nothing else. Subtle enough to create questions, vague enough to deny intention.
My phone buzzed within minutes.
Tina: *Umm, who's the mystery man??*
I smiled and didn't reply. The seed was planted.
Over the next two weeks, I executed my strategy with military precision. Monday: photo with my gay best friend Oliver, his arm slung possessively around my shoulders. Wednesday: a check-in at an upscale restaurant with the caption "Perfect evening." Friday: a close-up of two champagne glasses clinking.
None of it was real. Oliver had laughed when I explained my plan.
"You're seriously trying to make some guy jealous by pretending to date other guys?" He'd shaken his head. "That's middle school tactics, honey."
"It's not about jealousy," I'd corrected him. "It's about control. Perception."
"Mmm-hmm." His skepticism was palpable. "And have you checked his social media yet?"
I hadn't. That would show weakness. But curiosity eventually won.
Aidan's Instagram was a masterclass in strategic ambiguity. Photos at upscale bars with glimpses of feminine hands holding drinks. A woman's silhouette against a sunset, face conveniently turned away. And most infuriatingly, a post from three days ago: "Date night with the one who's always had my heart" featuring a close-up of entwined hands.
"Long-term girlfriend my ass," I muttered, scrolling frantically through his feed for evidence of this mysterious woman.
"Stalking already?" Oliver peered over my shoulder. "That didn't take long."
I locked my phone. "It's reconnaissance."
Advertisement
"Keep telling yourself that."
The game escalated when we both ended up at a mutual friend's birthday party. I hadn't known Aidan would be there until I spotted him across the crowded rooftop bar, deep in conversation with a stunning redhead.
"That's his cousin," said a voice beside me. I turned to find Jess, back from her honeymoon and glowing with newlywed bliss.
"I wasn't—"
"Save it." She laughed. "Mark told me about your little competition. You two are ridiculous."
I sipped my drink. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Right. That's why you've been posting thirst traps for two weeks straight." She nudged me. "He's been asking about you, you know."
My heart betrayed me with a little skip. "What did he ask?"
"Whether you're actually seeing someone. I told him your dating history could fill a small phone book."
"Thanks a lot."
"You're welcome." She grinned. "Now go talk to him. This mutual pining from across rooms is getting old."
I waited until his cousin left before approaching, timing my arrival with casual precision.
"Fancy meeting you here," I echoed his line from the hotel.
"Layla." He smiled, eyes traveling appreciatively over my dress. "Alone tonight? What happened to all your admirers?"
"I gave them the night off. And your girlfriend?" I gestured to his empty side. "The one who's 'always had your heart'?"
A flicker of surprise crossed his face, quickly replaced by amusement. "Been checking up on me?"
"Market research."
"Of course." He leaned closer. "For what it's worth, I don't have a girlfriend."
"And I don't have a lineup of men waiting for my attention." The admission slipped out before I could stop it.
We stared at each other, the first honest moment between us hanging in the air.
"So," he finally said, "we're both liars."
"Strategic embellishers," I corrected.
His laugh was genuine, warming something in me I'd thought long dormant.
Later that night, after too many drinks and surprisingly deep conversation, we ended up walking along the riverfront. The city lights reflected on the water, creating a moment so romantic it would have been perfect for one of my usual conquests.
"Why do you do it?" he asked suddenly. "The game, the constant chase?"
I considered deflecting but found myself answering honestly. "Control, I guess. If I leave first, I can't be left."
He nodded slowly. "My brother got engaged last year. His fiancée cheated two weeks later."
"Is that when you started?"
"No. I've been this way longer than I care to admit." He skipped a stone across the water. "But it became a principle after that. Don't get attached, don't get hurt."
We'd stopped walking, standing close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him.
"We're quite the pair," I said softly.
His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I thought he might kiss me. Part of me—a terrifying, unfamiliar part—wanted him to.
Instead, he pulled out his phone. "Smile."
"What?"
"For my Instagram. Let's give them something to really talk about."
He pulled me close, our faces touching as he snapped a selfie of us against the city skyline. I felt strangely exposed, not by the photo but by the moment of vulnerability that preceded it.
"Caption?" he asked, already typing.
"'Finally met my match'?" I suggested, trying to sound casual.
He looked at me with an expression I couldn't quite read. "Perfect."
That night, I lay awake staring at the ceiling, unsettled by how easily I'd let my guard down. This wasn't following the script. In my game, feelings were forbidden, attachments temporary.
My phone lit up with a notification. Aidan had posted our photo with my suggested caption, adding: "Game recognizes game."
I stared at our faces, pressed close together, both smiling with a hint of challenge in our eyes. We looked good together. Too good.
This was dangerous territory. I needed to regain the upper hand.
Tomorrow, I decided, would require drastic measures. If Aidan thought he could unsettle me this easily, he had another thing coming.
Game on.
