The Real Face Of A Lovestruck Fool

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During the most vibrant years of my youth, I spent three years wrapping Beckett around my finger, or rather, letting him wrap me around his. Honestly, he was gorgeous, incredible in bed, and built like a god. So when he finally called it quits, I cried like my world was ending.

Babe, can we still kiss after we break up? If I call you over to hook up, will you still come?

Beckett sneered. "Is it really just me you can't live without?"

My eyes pooled with tears. "Babe, I love you!"

But after getting dumped that day, I walked away crying, clutching a five-million-dollar parting gift.

That same night, someone filmed me at a club and sent the video straight to Beckett.

In the video, I had my arms around six male models, my voice dripping with disdain:

"Beckett? Who'd actually like him with that trash attitude? I was only in it for his body."

A second later, my phone exploded with calls from him.

"Ordering male models the second we break up? You've got some nerve. Playing with my feelings? You must have a death wish."

"I'll be there in ten minutes. You better pray you can run fast enough."

Hearing the word "breakup," my nose tickled, and the tears started falling. No one knew how good I had it during those three years with Beckett.

"Do we really have to?"

Beckett was shirtless, leaning against the headboard, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers.

"Yeah."

Maybe because of the storm wed just weathered in bed, his voice was still low and raspy.

I crouched on the floor, sobbing dramatically. Beckett knit his handsome brow.

"Don't cry. I can compensate you. Is five million enough?"

I kept sobbing, unable to stop. "I don't want your money. I want your love."

My hand drifted over his abs, my fingers tracing the sharp lines before swirling over his skin.

"Babe, can we still kiss? If I text you for a late-night hookup, will you still show up?"

Beckett stared at me, his gaze dark and unreadable.

After a long silence, a dry chuckle escaped his throat. "Is it really just me you can't live without?"

I looked up at just the right moment, my eyes wide, wet, and utterly innocent.

"Babe, I love you..."

But contrary to what I expected, Beckett didn't soften. He coldly pulled my hand away.

"How much?"

"So much I can't breathe."

"Then put my face and body aside. What do you actually like about me?"

I froze.

I looked up and met his sharp, piercing gaze. A sudden wave of guilt washed over me, rendering all my usual sweet-talk useless.

Honestly, I couldn't bring myself to lie to a man.

I stammered, "I... I can't put them aside..."

Beckett was famous for his terrible temper. Combined with his wealthy family background, he was arrogant and reckless with everyone. But he was just too damn good-looking.

At first, half the girls at our university were head over heels for him. But his sharp tongue and volatile moods quickly sent them running. Back then, no one expected that a completely ordinary girl like me would be the one to tame him.

For a while, rumors flew about how incredibly calculating I must be.

In reality, there was no master plan. My goal had been crystal clear from the moment I laid eyes on him: I wanted him in my bed.

When you're doing something bad, you don't get tired. So, of course, I could tolerate all his flaws. His petulance and sensitivity actually felt endearing to me.

I wanted to know about his childhood, his past pains, and his joys. I secretly listened to his favorite songs, quietly noting down every hobby and habit he casually mentioned. I tracked his star sign, his favorite flowers, watched the movies he loved, and took screenshots of everything related to him. I loved him, including his fragility and his dark sides.

Day after day, under my relentless campaign of affection, Beckett finally cracked.

To the point where, one night, when I casually asked, "By the way, are you big down there?"

Beckett didn't get angry. Instead, his ears turned red as he grabbed my wrist:

"Are you coming back to my place tonight to keep listening to me talk about my dysfunctional family?"

I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him.

"You can talk forever. I'm always listening."

...

Now, hearing my honest answer, Beckett fell silent. He stubbed out his cigarette, looking down at our clothes scattered across the floor.

Finally, he looked up, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

"Three years together, and there isn't a single thing about my personality that attracts you?"

"There is," I said, my face flushing under his intense gaze. "It's just... you're really sweet when you want to be."

I had to admit, Beckett changed his mood faster than he took off his clothes.

After I said that, he got furious for some reason. He shoved a credit card into my hand and kicked me out.

"There's five million on this. Don't ever look for me again."

The door slammed shut.

Beckett always had a bad temper. Even though hed thrown fits and told me to leave before, this time felt different.

Not for him, but for me.

Maybe I was just getting older, running out of energy. I felt a deep, heavy exhaustion.

Outside, a light drizzle was falling. I opened my ride-sharing app, but the wait times were insane. Steeling my resolve, I decided to walk back in the rain.

The moment my foot hit the wet pavement, a large black umbrella bloomed over my head.

My heart skipped a beat. I spun around.

"Beckett?!"

Instead, I was met with his assistant's blank face. He made a polite gesture toward a waiting car.

"The young master said you walk too slow. He doesn't want to see you around, so he ordered me to get you out of here as fast as possible."

My throat tightened. "Oh."

I looked up at the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse. Catching my gaze, a shadow flitted behind the glass and vanished.

The assistant was true to his word. Smooth and fast, he dropped me off in ten minutes.

My best friend, Roxy, blinked in shock when she saw me.

"Aren't you supposed to be with Beckett?"

My chest felt heavy, like wet cotton pressing down on my lungs. I took a deep breath, forcing a smile, and flashed the card.

"We broke up. And he gave me a massive severance package."

"Come on, babe. Let's go spend some money."

Roxy reached out and gently touched my face. She looked like she wanted to say something, but stayed quiet. I knew she felt bad for me, but when it came to love, you just had to let things go.

That night, I dragged her to a club known for having the best-looking guys in the city.

"The fastest way to get over an old flame is to find a new one."

"Who cares about Beckett? We're here for a good time, not a long time!"

We hadn't even been seated long before we ran into a bunch of familiar faces.

A group of trust-fund babies sat in the VIP booth next to ours. Most of them were from Becketts social circle. Throughout our three-year relationship, they had been the most vocal skeptics.

With Beckett around, no one dared to say anything to my face. But now, they wasted no time crowding around me with smirks.

"Well, if it isn't Paige, the ultimate clinger!"

"What are you doing drinking here? Did Beckett finally throw you out?"

"Did you really think you could secure the bag? He was just using you for a good time."

"If she hadn't spent every day groveling at his feet, Beckett wouldn't have looked at her twice."

The air grew thick with their snide remarks and laughter.

Roxy, who had already had a few drinks too many, didn't hesitate. She slammed her glass down and stepped right up to them.

"Did you guys forget to brush your teeth tonight? Your breath smells like pure trash!"

"Calling her a clinger? You'd crawl through broken glass to get Beckett's attention, but he wouldn't even look in your direction!"

"And besides, Beckett is nothing. Paige is the one who dumped him!"

I pulled her back, looking coldly at the crowd. "If you're so upset on Beckett's behalf, why don't you go tell him?"

The ringleader of the group stiffened, his smug grin faltering.

Once, someone had actually dared to talk trash about me to Beckett. Beckett had beaten him so badly the guy ended up in the hospital. Since then, no one dared to cross him.

"What are you acting so smug for? You think he's still going to protect you?"

I ignored his provocation, turning my attention to the tablet the host had handed me, scrolling through the profiles of the hosts.

Once I had selected six male models of completely different styles, I looked up.

"Why don't you try me and find out?"

Borrowing Beckett's terrifying reputation was incredibly effective.

We had broken up and gotten back together countless times. They couldn't be sure if this was just another one of our dramatic spats.

The trust-fund babies scattered quickly, terrified of offending Beckett.

Six handsome models crowded around Roxy and me, calling us "gorgeous" in sweet, honeyed voices. We each had three of them draped over us, laughing.

One fed me fruit; another poured my drink.

One, wearing a sheer white shirt, was dancing right in front of us. Sweat and alcohol clung to the fabric, highlighting his perfectly sculpted muscles.

I suddenly realized that spending three years obsessing over Beckett had been a colossal waste of time.

So when Roxy, still angry, started venting and cursing Beckett, I joined right in.

"Beckett? Who'd actually like him with that trash attitude? I was only in it for his body."

The more I drank, the more animated I became.

"My love for him was real, but he's not the only fish in the sea."

"Beckett's hot, amazing in bed, great body, but I'm bored of him now."

"Hey, Roxy, look at one o'clock. I think I just spotted my dream guy."

"He's easily as hot as Beckett. Should I go talk to him?"

Before Roxy could answer, her expression went dead serious. She picked up my buzzing phone and held it in front of my face.

Someone had filmed me touching a model's abs and saying those exact words, and they had sent it straight to Beckett.

He was calling me repeatedly.

The messages kept popping up on the screen:

Paige, stop playing dead. Answer the phone!

Unbelievable. So everything you said about loving me was a lie?

Hiring models the second we break up? You've got some nerve. Playing with my feelings? You must have a death wish.

I'll be there in ten minutes. You better pray you can run fast enough.

I was completely wasted. I squinted at the screen for a long time before finally grasping the words, then casually turned the phone off.

Roxy's eyes went wide.

"Are you crazy? He's going to lose his mind!"

"Let him."

"Should... shouldn't we run? If Beckett catches you, he's going to kill you."

I giggled, my brain completely foggy. "Kill me how? We already broke up. What's he going to do, double-dump me?"

...

The most entertaining dynamic in the world is definitely a toxic ex-boyfriend who hasn't fully let go. Especially since Beckett was entirely my type. As long as he didn't find someone else, hooking up with him occasionally after the breakup didn't sound like a bad plan.

Ignoring Roxy's exasperated look, my eyes caught onto something across the room, and I practically floated over to it.

Instantly, the scent of expensive blue cologne mixed with raw male hormones filled my senses.

The guy standing there looked about fifty percent like Beckett. But his hair was styled in soft, messy curls, his lips were pink, and he looked incredibly sweet and innocent.

He was the complete opposite of Beckett's wild, arrogant vibe.

"Remember me?" I purred.

The handsome stranger looked a bit startled, studying my face closely.

"I'm sorry, I just got back to the country. My memory's a bit rusty. Who are you?"

"Don't you remember? When we were kids, you played at your house, and I played at mine. We've been strangers since childhood."

He stared at me for a second, then burst into a warm, genuine laugh.

I suppressed a smirk. If I could tame a wild beast like Beckett, a cute little puppy like this was child's play.

"It's fine if we didn't know each other back then. How about we get to know each other now?"

I winked, slipping a shot glass into his hand before tossing my own back.

He hesitated for a moment before drinking his.

"Aren't you moving a bit fast? Aren't you afraid I might be a bad guy?"

"What kind of bad guy? A handsome distraction?"

"No, a guy who might take advantage of a beautiful girl."

"Well, I'm already dizzy from how gorgeous you are, so feel free to try."

He laughed, his sharp little canine teeth showing. He looked clever and cute, a classic puppy-dog type.

After dealing with a wild wolf for so long, a sweet, slightly mischievous dog felt like a breath of fresh air.

His ears flushed red under my direct gaze.

"Is this what they call flirting with the innocent?"

I leaned slightly against the bar table, resting my chin on my hand, looking up at him with a hazy, bedroom gaze.

"Flirting? I just thought my ability to read a guy's subtle emotions was a gift from above."

"Oh? And what did you read?"

My fingertips brushed over his palm, and he suddenly gripped them.

"I read that you have a lot you want to say to me. And that my gift only works when I'm with you."

He gently played with my fingertips.

"You're the most interesting girl I've ever met."

"I'm not just interesting, I'm a great listener," I said, suddenly pulling my hand back. "So, I'm ready to listen to all about your childhood traumas and your lonely past."

He looked at his empty palm, amused. "My childhood?"

I lightly grabbed his collar and pulled.

Caught off guard, he leaned forward, his chin brushing against the crook of my neck. The fresh, woody scent of his cologne washed over me.

I leaned close to his ear, my warm breath tickling his neck.

"But you know what we're doing after you finish talking."

I pulled back slightly, watching his Adam's apple bob.

Just as I was about to say something even more shameless, a strong hand violently ripped me away.

Beckett stood there, his face dark and his eyes completely bloodshot.