It All Started With A Lie

{2}

He rolled his eyes, "Okay, deal?" 

"Deal? After thirty minutes of me chasing you around this place, begging you to help me? Deal?" I scoffed, shaking my head, "It's your turn." 

"My turn?" he asked. 

"Beg," I smirked. 

"I don't beg," he said, leaning in. 

"Sure you do. Come on now, don't be shy," I teased, pinching his cheek. 

He smacked my hand off his cheek, pinning my wrist down to the table, leaning in even further, threateningly. "Olivia, whatever your middle name is, Carrington. I will never beg for you or your help, got it?" he whispered. He's so close. 

I smiled, "Okay, don't beg. But you have to say 'please.' I said it about twenty times," I said. 

He scoffed, looking around while rolling his eyes. "You can't be serious," he deadpanned. 

"You bet I am," I replied, "Take it or leave it, Miles," I sighed, "I don't got time." 

"No," he shrugged. 

"Oh, come on, Miles. You've known me since pre-school, we've had a good enmity since then when you pushed me off the goddamn swing. Let's push that aside while we're helping each other, we'll pick it up later, hmm?" 

"I hate you with every single nerve in my body," he mumbled. 

"Why? Am I out of your league? Does that bruise your ego?" I frowned. 

"You? Out of my league? Impossible." 

"Now, that hurts my ego. And if you want my help, don't hurt my ego and character. Say please, Ethan Miles Archer." 

He turned to me, his eyes flickering to mine. "Olivia Carrington, will you please help me?" he sighed in defeat. 

I grinned, "Of course, I'll help you." I straightened up in my seat, "Give me your phone." 

"Why?" I stared at him, waiting for him to catch on. He gave it to me and I typed in my number, handing it back to him. "She-devil, there we go," he smirked, giving me a call so I could have his number. 

"Devil's bellboy, there we go," I grinned, flicking my hair over my shoulder. 

"Very original," he nodded.

"Thank you," I said, watching the people walking by. "Now that we're putting our hate for each other on pause, what do you think of Annabelle and Justin?" I asked, looking straight ahead of me. 

"I think he's a dick who sleeps with anything that breathes, and Annabelle is lonely and desperate enough to do the same," he answered. 

"So, why would she cheat on you? Oh, that's right. You didn't love her, or something like that, wasn't it?" I asked. 

"I don't love," he rolled his eyes. 

I looked at him incredulously. "That's so cliche fuckboy of you to say. 'I don't love,'" I said mockingly, rolling my eyes. 

"What about you, Oliver Twist? Why'd he cheat on you?" 

"Because I refused to give him a blowjob," I shrugged. He stared at me. "I'm kidding. I refused to sleep with him," I answered honestly this time. 

"Wow, Oliver Twist is Virgin Mary?" he taunted. 

"Do you presume the She-Devil to be a virgin, bellboy?" I asked, raising a brow at him, "I had a boyfriend before him and I was with Justin for no more than two months. I'm no Virgin Mary," I said, looking at my nails I painted earlier today, "Just picky," I smiled.