I Bought My Boyfriend

Back in college, I bought myself a boyfriend.

He stayed with me. I paid off his grandfather's sixfigure medical bills.

A fullride genius, swallowing his pride to be mine for four years.

Then my father got swept up in a federal financial fraud case. Everything vanished overnight.

When we broke up, he was cold. Didn't say a single word to make me stay.

Years later, I'm dancing at a strip club. He's the founder of a tech company, dating our college's former cheerleading captain.

He asks me: "Any regrets?"

"No."

"Well, I have one."

Of all the ways I imagined running into Evan Corwin again after graduation, this wasn't one of them.

I'm a dancer at a strip club. And tonight, he books me.

The lights pulse wild and electric. I twist inside a giant martini glass, water lapping against my skin, while the crowd below howls and whistles, hurling fistfuls of cash at the stage.

I'm the eye of the storm, same as always.

But my attention,every last shred of it,snags on him.

I can barely hold it together.

Before going on, I threw on a mask and a wig, desperate to keep him from seeing my face.

Now, I peel off one layer at a time, drawing fresh screams, more bills, hungry stares from every direction,and the whole time, I'm watching him from the corner of my eye.

Stella Voss sits right next to him.

They look disgustingly perfect together.

There's a plate of artfully sliced oranges on Stella's side of the table.

A long time ago, when I used to love oranges, Evan would always cut them for me. The way he handled a knife was almost obscenely attractive,each slice precise, uniform, arranged on the plate like a little work of art.

I used to joke that he had to be a secret assassin.

Back then, I thought he loved me.

Turns out it was just his perfectionism talking.

Four years apart. Feels more like half a lifetime.

Somehow, my routine drifts closer and closer to his section.

Damn it. I should be putting distance between us.

God knows if I get any closer, he might recognize me.

But clearly, one of Stella's hangerson already has.

She leans over, loud enough to be heard over the bass: "Hey,didn't Evan have a girlfriend in college? Four years together or something?"

My hand freezes midreach for my bra strap.

Evan doesn't take the bait.

The woman shifts in her seat, a little awkward, but pushes on: "Four years, though. That's gotta be hard to forget, right?"

Silence settles over their table like a still river.

After what feels like forever, Evan lets out a quiet laugh.

"Hardly."

"Honestly, Ev not hating her is generous enough."

Stella waves a hand, breezy and unbothered.

"I went to the same school. It was honestly... ugh, he deserved so much better. If his ex hadn't been in the way, Ev and I would've gotten together years ago."

"Exactly! Stella's got like a million followers, she's literally a reality TV star,no ex can compete with that."

The hangeron throws a smug little glance in my direction.

I snap a kick. Water arcs out of the glass and hits her square in the face.

The crowd goes feral. Whistles, stomping feet, guys throwing their arms up begging to be next.

Her cursing drowns in the deafening roar.

My set reaches its finale. The cheers crash over each other, wave after wave. Bills carpet the stage.

I blow a kiss for the curtain call. Inside, all I want is to get out.

But as I pass Evan's section, his voice cuts through the noise.

"Wait."

My body locks in place like someone drove a nail through my feet.

One second. Two.

Dana materializes beside me right on cue.

"Sorry,she's parttime. Once her set's done, she's off the clock."

Dana shoots me a look. I bolt.

She pulls me aside backstage.

"Heads up next time, okay? We've all been the new girl. One complaint and your whole night's pay is gone."

"Thanks, Dana. I owe you one."

"Don't worry about it. But that VIP room? Watch yourself. Every person at that table is a big shot. Especially the young one in the middle,the goodlooking one. Tech startup founder, been in Forbes. None of us can afford to piss him off."

The warning comes a little too late.

If there's one person on this planet who has already pissed off Evan Corwin beyond the point of no return, it's me.

I'm the ex he can "hardly" remember.